The above is an image from the Chinese Museum of Inventions in Beijing. It shows a rat torture device as it was commonly used in Chinese villages as punishment for extramarital penetration, and for public entertainment. To teach the young men a lesson on how painful penetration can be, a cage with a rat would be placed on his body. The cage would then be heated to make the poor animal uncomfortable. The rat would then bite and dig an escape channel through the living body of the culprit or suspect. Depending on whether the rat would bite its escape route through the heart or less vital organs, the young man would die immediately or maybe later. Anyway, when the rat was out, the suspect was free to walk away. Unlikely, though that he would ever molest girls again.
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Wallingford, Connecticut: The beautiful secret behind why arranged marriages last much longer than love marriages
Leonard G. Coughlan 1251 Raoul Wallenberg Place Wallingford, CT 06492
If you're anything like me, the idea of an arranged marriage is a foreign and, frankly, startling thought. The idea of someone else choosing my spouse is not one I like to entertain, but research suggests that there's a lot more to arranged marriages than we might suspect.
Take a look at these statistics:
40-50% of married couples from the United States or Canada end in divorce.
Only 4% of couples in an arranged marriage get divorced.
Couples in arranged marriages tend to feel more love for one another as time goes on.
Couples in love marriages tend to feel significantly less love for one another as time goes on.
Those stats say A LOT. Why are marriages arranged by parents or a matchmaker so much more successful than those initiated by love? Here's what the research says:
Whoever is arranging the marriage takes plenty of time to thoughtfully consider marriage options. They study how compatible potential pairs would be. They juxtopose life goals, important traits and family circumstances when making a decision.
This process helps foster a sense of determination in each individual. They couple plans on making it work, and when the going gets tough -- they do too! They make the conscious decision to stick together through better or worse.
As time goes on and these couples intentionally focus on loving their spouse, they gradually find they really do love each other. That love continues to grow over time.
Someone may choose who their supposed to love, but each individual seems to take it upon themselves to love that choice.
Why do our marriages fail too unsettlingly often? This article suggests that marrying for love indicates a heavy dependence on passion as a main motivator in a relationship. Research suggests this passion blinds us. As time goes on and the fire of infatuation dies, so does the relationship.
Dr. Robert Epstein of Harvard suggests that the growing love in arranged marriages surpasses the dying love of love marriages by about the fifth year after the union. He draws attention to the fact that the Western idea of marriage is largely based on lust or attraction.
In the West, we're more culturally inclined to seek after the Disney dream. We meet the person of our dreams, fall in love hard and fast and live happily ever after. In reality, the apparent fate-driven forces that bring us together may also set us up for swift failure.
When we no longer feel the same romantic love for our spouse that we used to feel, we may see it as a sign that the relationship should end. While harship may tear us apart, Epstein says that in arranged marriages, "They get married knowing they won't leave, so when times are harder - if they face injury or trauma - they don't run away. It brings them closer."
That's the takeaway. Love marriages are NOT destined to fail. No marriage is destined to fail. Do as arranged couples do and form your own destiny. Love is just as much a verb as it is a noun. If you're less in love with your spouse than you used to be, try working to love them. Make it purposeful. Plan on it.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Spooky Action at a Distance - The Strange Science of Radionics
Alfred R. Brien 4575 Garrett Street Philadelphia, PA 19123
I'm in a leafy garden behind a San Francisco coffee shop, holding on to a copper rod connected by a wire to a big wooden box. Inside the box are glowing knobs that look like red jewels. There's an empty glass beaker through which a shortwave ultraviolet light can be shown, and a flat piece of Bakelite that hides a copper coil. There are dials appointed with an elegant brass finish.
The box's owner, Joseph Max, is twiddling the dials and slowly rubbing two fingers across the Bakelite plate, eyes crinkled in concentration. When he hits on something, he writes down a score of 461 for my "general vitality" and then he checks my "aura coordination." It's 405.
"It's okay," he says reassuringly but with a hint of bemusement.
"I have a bad aura?" I ask, frowning.
"Maybe you're going through a lot of stress lately," he offers kindly.
The copper rod is getting warm in my hand. In true San Francisco fashion, no one around us—not the gym-rat hipster couple, not the French family—seems to care this is happening. Just blocks away on Haight Street you can buy weed from a dispensary, ogle multiple people whose leashed cats ride on their shoulders like parrots, or buy Victorian-inspired fetish gear. Our wacky box does not even register as interesting.
Max is dressed in all black: black polo shirt, black fleece vest, black slacks, black wristwatch. His snowy white hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail. He peers with light blue eyes through his round glasses at his radionics machine, the battery-powered device I'm currently hooked up to that is supposedly scanning my aura like so many bags at the airport.
Max carefully records my numbers on a form he has brought with him, and then we proceed to the main event. He wants to give me a shot at operating the mysterious box, and in order to do so a nearby shrub has to make a donation.
Max snaps a leafy twig off the plant behind us and pops it into the beaker—the "witness well." I clean my fingers with alcohol to remove any grease and slowly rub my right index and pointer finger along the surface of the Bakelite—what's known as a stickplate—while turning a knob on the machine with my left. It's a little bit like rubbing your stomach and patting your head at the same time. The idea, he tells me, is to detect life in the plant. When I start to feel the "stickiness" I'll stop turning the dial, and the number I land on will be the plant's rate—the measurement of its general vitality.
We are both sitting on the same side of a pair of green plastic tables, the box in front of us. Max is watching me expectantly, and I admit I want to feel the stickiness. For weeks now I have been told about The Stickiness, the magical, murky thrum that connects your body to the ether. And I do feel something. My finger catches, it trips along the bakelite plate a bit, and we decide that the plant's number is 381. (It is not a stellar number; but for an urban plant whose main job is to decorate a coffee shop, this is not surprising.)
I ask Max how he knows if I was right and he checks the leaf himself, settling on a slightly higher number. I nod and smile and sip my lukewarm vat of coffee. How did I get here, manipulating the innards of a tricked-out wooden box, comparing the vitality numbers about a plant?
This is the most common way people have explained radionics to me (and several people have tried): Radionics is a way of using a device to take your thoughts (or intention, or consciousness) and amplify and broadcast them into the ether to affect some kind of change in your own life or the lives of others. You could be seeking a romantic partner or a financial windfall or better health. Maybe you just want to find a diamond ring on a sandy beach. (This is something I was told a person asked for, and received, through a radionics device.)
To some extent, the user (or maker) decides how to use the machine and for what. Not everyone would take an aura reading; this is just Max's approach. The device is a cosmic ham radio—a direct, if fuzzy, line to the big Whatever that provides things when they are asked for in the right way. Radionics is also called psionics or psychotronics, and radionics machines "wishing machines."
The most common incarnation of a radionics device is a box outfitted with a stickplate, a witness well (the space where one places a physical representation of his or her intentions), and dials that allow the user to tune the box in to that intention. Inside the box there is often a combination of copper wires, circuit boards, and even crystals. The user places the witness in the well (it could be a hair clipping, say, or a photo of a house, if you're seeking a new home) and then gently rubs the plate while turning the dials, waiting for the all-important stickiness a physical sensation that has been described as a tingling or similar to that of rubbing a balloon or sensing a very high-pitched sound. Once stickiness has been achieved, the box may be left alone to broadcast the user's intentions to the universe.
There are as many variations on the radionics device as there are on your standard automobile. Boxes are common, but there are also bicycle helmets outfitted with crystal-topped copper rods. There are devices that employ pendulums instead of stickplates. There are belts and headbands. There are even entirely paper-based machines and radionics software. Design-wise, radionics devices look like a mashup of original-series Star Trek, Jules Verne, and 1950s science-fiction magazines. They have a charming ray-gun quality about them.
But you can't buy a radionics machine at Target—or any store, really. That leaves true believers to build the machines themselves or buy one from a handful of sellers. There is a whole community of makers who swap tips on Facebook groups and on sites like BerkanaPath.com about how to build the best stickplates and where to buy potentiometers and antique knobs. Radio Shack and eBay are staples within this community. Enthusiasts post YouTube videos and offer critiques and encouragement to fellow makers. There are conventions and associations.
A few have managed to turn radionics into a business, and, like the devices themselves, these organizations are eclectic. There are the sober sites that work hard to promote an air of antiseptic professionalism, and there are the admittedly more common rainbow-colored sites that promise riches and babes, usually with an excess of exclamation points. ("Yes, you can charge food radionically with sexual energy and intent!!!")
Radionics exists on the fringe and is dismissed by the mainstream scientific community. And the story of how this cast of curious characters and their DIY wishing boxes got here features orgasms, potato blight, and the death of at least one guinea pig.
Albert Abrams was born in 1863 in San Francisco, earned a medical degree from Heidelberg University in Germany in 1882, and returned home to become a professor of pathology at Cooper Medical College (later absorbed by Stanford University) and the vice president of the California State Medical Society. Abrams was a respected member of the San Francisco intelligentsia; his comings and going were fodder for the local society column, which dutifully recorded his Yosemite vacations and his wife's tasteful luncheons.
In 1916 Abrams published a paper espousing his discovery of what he modestly named "Electronic Reactions of Abrams." "Every individual, it is maintained," he wrote, "is enveloped in a radiance (Aura) invisible to the carnal eye and only perceived by the soul accustomed to it." As evidence of this, Abrams listed portraits of saints with glowing halos and luminescent fish and crustaceans. This radiating energy, or ERA, could be used to not only diagnose conditions but could be tapped into in order to treat and diagnose patients of any manner of things, including cancer and syphilis.
Thus, throughout the 1900s, Abrams rolled out a series of electronic devices that he insisted did just that, including the "Dynomizer" and the "Oscilloclast." These machines could diagnose illness even in a remote subject, as long as the patient supplied a drop of blood, according to Abrams. Maladies were assigned a "rate" and when patients were treated, the machines were tuned to that number.
Abrams garnered fans (including the muckracking author Upton Sinclair) and his machines were leased to practitioners around the country; he offered classes at his San Francisco outpost. At one point, he announced plans to found an "electronic college." (This did not come to fruition.) But many doubted Abrams, chief among them Morris Fishbein, editor of the Journal of the American Medical Association from 1924 to 1950. Fishbein devoted an entire chapter to Abrams in his 1932 book Fads and Quackery in Healing. In addition to calling Abrams a cultist, he wrote that: "It is the opinion of most of the electricians who have investigated Abrams' device, that Abrams knew little or nothing at all about the fundamental facts of electricity."
Suspicion grew to a point that the American Medical Association launched a sting operation against Abrams. The AMA mailed blood samples from a "virtuous, unsuspecting lady guinea pig" to an Abrams devotee in Oklahoma City, claiming they were from a "Mr. P." Fishbein reported with no small amount of glee that the practitioner not only failed to realize he had been sent guinea pig blood, but diagnosed "Mr. P" with several illnesses. (Unfortunately for the lady guinea pig, the very thorough AMA dispatched her in order to perform a postmortem and confirm that she wasn't suffering from any illnesses. She was not.)
In Jonesboro, Arkansas, a similar sting was undertaken on an Abrams practitioner using chicken blood. The practitioner was brought up on charges, and Abrams was expected to appear as a witness and defend his invention but he never got the chance. Abrams died in January 1924, an outcast from the mainstream medical community, the same week The British Medical Journal published an article excoriating his lucrative practices.
But Abrams' ideas didn't die with him. In 1927, not long after he departed this world, an Austrian psychoanalyst, Wilhelm Reich, published a paper called "The Function of the Orgasm." Nervous conditions, he wrote, could be resolved through "full genital gratification," and "sexual, vegetative energy is active in everything that lives."
Not long after arriving in New York in 1939, Reich announced the discovery of "orgone," something he described as "the primordial, cosmic energy." Reich believed that it floated throughout the atmosphere and that, if gathered and restored to the human body, its recipients would be infused with a number of health benefits. He built a contraption called an orgone accumulator, about the size of a phone booth, that he believed could collect and concentrate orgone. Patients sat passively inside, sometimes for hours at a time, hoping to be revitalized.
Among Reich's defenders were journalist Norman Mailer and artist Kansas City, Missouri, in 1949 received a patent for his homemade radionics device. Galen, who was trained as an electrician by the National Guard and worked as an engineer for the Kansas City Power and Light Company, was an acolyte of Dr. Abrams and started tinkering with electricity and plants in 1931. His Hieronymus machine was intended to detect and measure "eloptic energy" that emanated from all living things. The Hieronymus machine became the blueprint for today's radionics devices; Hieronymus introduced the idea of the stickplate and the well. He thought his machines were especially useful for agriculture and wrote that he had documented their effectiveness on curing crops of pest and disease, including aphids and potato blight. "To date, our research has not revealed any substance that does not lend itself to analysis by our instrument," Hieronymus wrote in his autobiography The Story of Eloptic Energy. Hieronymus died in 1988.
It is the legacy of these men—a pastiche of science, mysticism, and persecution—that set the stage for the modern radionics community.
Ed Kelly is perfectly aware of what people think about radionics. He runs what is probably the only legacy radionics company in the United States, but if a stranger at a cocktail party asks him what he does for a living, he usually says he's in the electronics business.
"I just leave it at that, because, you know, it's just so kooky," he says, resigned. "And if you have to go into a giant explanation they're probably going to either assume that you're a crazy person, or worse yet, that you're selling snake oil."
Kelly's father Peter founded Kelly Research Technologies (KRT) in 1984. The elder Kelly—who was "kind of a hippie," according to his son—discovered radionics during the early '70s and built what had started as a hobby into a career. He ran his business from a plot of land in Lakemont, Georgia, out of a pair of dome houses, where Kelly still lives with his wife and several cats. (One of which yowled throughout our phone conversation despite Kelly's reassuring asides.)
KRT's expertise is agriculture. In the United States, it's illegal to promote radionics for diagnostic or treatment purposes in people or animals, so the Kellys focus on crops. The company's machines are modeled after the Hieronymus version, and it publishes a book of rates for farmers. Say you want a corn seed that is most "harmonious" with your land: You could use the Kelly gadgets to tune in to samples and figure out which one vibes best with the soil.
In the realm of radionic aesthetics, the KRT brand is more Wheaties than Lucky Charms—its site is simple, rendered in sedate colors. Its machines, built on-site by Kelly and his three employees, are businesslike, gray and black, in simple wooden boxes. The most popular (and least expensive) is the $1,450 Personal Instrument. Kelly says the company sells a few hundred machines a year to farmers all over the world who want to tap into the free-floating energies of the universe.
"To me, that's been one of the greatest validators," says Kelly. "These are men and women who are interested in yield and what kind of results they get. And you're not going to pull some crazy esoteric 'put a crystal on it' kind of deal on a farmer who is interested in what kind of results they get."
Kelly is not a farmer, but he uses his machines to bolster the business. When things get slow, he places a photo of the dome on the witness well—remember, the spot where users place the physical representation of their intention—tunes up, and focuses on the idea of "those who need us find us." In half an hour or so, he says, it is not unusual for the phone to ring with a customer on the other line.
For an outsider, it is these kind of examples that are frustrating. Why not ask for a million dollars? A car? A house?
I called up Joshua P. Warren, who is a kind of paranormal jack-of-all-trades. He is a ghost hunter, he has dipped into cryptozoology and the study of the Bermuda triangle. He has made television appearances and written books about hauntings in his hometown, Asheville, North Carolina. He also sells wishing machines, which are built by a man he calls Dr. Mulder—a pseudonym borrowed from The X-Files. Dr. Mulder, Warren told me, is very private and not available for interviews. But Warren was able to provide examples of results he produced with his wishing machines. (It was Warren who told me that radionics had delivered to him a diamond-encrusted gold ring.)
Warren said that using the machine, he had obtained a second home in Puerto Rico, a pair of discounted high-quality headphones, and a deal to write a Star Wars-themed book about how to "draw on the universe's energy to achieve your dreams." Of course, you don't just tune a wishing machine and then wait for the keys of your beach house to arrive in the mail.
"You can't just kick back and wish for something and hope it's going to materialize," says Warren. "What you have to do is set the intention and then you go out and you interact with the world and see the opportunity present itself."
In the case of his vacation home, for instance, he says he placed a photo of a sandy beach on his witness plate, tuned the machine, and shortly thereafter accepted a ghost-hunting gig in Puerto Rico, where he just happened to meet a real estate agent who showed him the house he eventually bought. The kicker? The photo—which he chose randomly off the Internet—showed the beach where his new home would be.
Like a fusty skeptic, I asked him why this wasn't just a coincidence.
"The wishing machine seems to operate via coincidence," he told me.
These kinds of explanations can make you feel like you're running in circles. The people I talked to do believe there is a scientific basis for how radionics works—but that we just don't understand it yet. Several times the science-fiction author Arthur C. Clarke's famous line was quoted to me: "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." Quantum physics was mentioned frequently. But they also believe there is something more—energy, consciousness, or even magic—that makes explanation difficult or even impossible.
It is hard to investigate the ethereal thinking around radionics, but physics is something that can be parsed. So I got in touch with Chad Orzel, a physics professor at Union College in New York and the author of several popular science books, including How To Teach Quantum Physics to Your Dog. This sounded about my speed, and I ran a few ideas about physics and radionics past him, particularly "quantum entanglement," which several people offered as evidence that radionics is possible.
"Entanglement is a very strange phenomenon," says Orzel. "But it's a very real thing."
Basically, entanglement is the idea that two particles, separated by a great distance, can be shown to correlate with each other. By measuring one of the particles, you can be guaranteed to know the state of the other one, even though it's miles away. (Researchers in the Netherlands recently claimed to have proven this theory using particles encased in diamonds.) Quantum entanglement may be the key to building next-generation super-fast quantum computers, or to developing nearly unbreakable quantum cryptography. At the moment, though, it's a fascinating real phenomenon without many practical applications.
"People try to invoke this as a way of justifying ESP sorts of things: 'Well, maybe electrons in your brain are entangled with electrons somewhere else.' There's a couple of problems with it," Orzel says.
The main one is that the particles used in such experiments were at some point in contact with each other, and scientists took great care during their separation to maintain that relationship. (It is the conscious uncoupling of the science world.) The same can't be said of other electrons sloshing around in the universe.
"If you look at it in a slightly incorrect way, it seems like you're influencing things a really long way away," says Orzel. "But what you're really doing is you're just making manifest a correlation that already existed because these two things interacted in the past."
Suffice to say, Orzel is no fan of radionics.
"If you think carefully about it—it's just amazing that the universe works that way," he says. "But it's not quite as amazing as being able to use your thoughts to do magic. So it's frustrating in the way that it takes away from the wonder of the actual theory [of quantum entanglement]. Because it's not some crazy fictional version of magic. The reality is really pretty awesome in its own right."
It is easy, and typical, to laugh at people who buy into things like radionics. But despite their dubious scientific backing, related ideas have completely crossed over to the mainstream in recent years. The United States government has been so intrigued by the psychic possibilities of the mind that it has expended no small amount of effort investigating it. The 2006 book The Secret, which promoted the idea that sending good thoughts out into the world produced positive results, sold more than 19 million copies. (It was also drubbed in The New York Times.) On a regular basis, my yoga teacher encourages me (and the dozen or so other people in the class, who may or may not think of themselves as "woo-woo") to "set my intention" before practice, and broadcast groovy vibes to someone I love.
So, though radionics is on the fringe, the fringe is coming closer to the center. It's now just something everyone tolerates (everyone who does yoga, anyway). Which does not make it true, or even good. It just means that under the right circumstances we are all probably capable of believing in things that other people think are impossible or ridiculous.
Like anything, a belief in the metaphysical can be passed down through families. Kelly inherited his father's radionics business. Warren grew up listening to ghost stories. A man I talked to who runs an online radionics forum told me his father was a hypnotherapist and paranormal investigator.
But Max says that—if anything—he is rebelling against a straight-laced upbringing.
Here on the bright San Francisco coffeehouse patio, there is little to reveal this rebellion. Max is soft-spoken and modestly attired. Sitting in front of a stack of his papers, we could be a couple of teachers going over our lesson plans. We could be doing our taxes.
Max was born in Detroit. His father worked for IBM and his family moved around a lot (IBM stands for "I've been moved," he jokes.) He got a degree in theater arts and became an audio engineer. He tried New York but ended up in San Francisco where he fell into the late-'70s punk scene, working both on and offstage, playing bass and synthesizer. Eventually Max would go on to do audio engineering for acts like Destiny's Child and tour the world with Daft Punk. He still works as an audio engineer.
Max first learned about radionics while reading science fiction magazines as a kid. He filed it under interesting, but there wasn't much he could do about it then. Then his newly acquired engineering skills collided with the Bay Area's permissive acceptance of alternative philosophies. ("It's hard to be classified as crazy for doing anything in Berkeley.") He got into steampunk, started playing the theremin and—almost on a whim—built a Hieronymus box. He did it as an experiment, as much an art project as anything else. Then he tried to use it and felt the telltale "stick".
Hooked, Max delved into the radionics community. He started a blog ("Aetheric Arts"), he moderates a Facebook group, he went to a convention.
"I found that, for me," he says, sighing, "a lot of the people involved in it are also involved in the kind of fringe I don't have a lot of respect for. There were a lot of anti-vaxxers and anti-GMO people and government conspiracy theorists, and that's not my cup of tea."
He has distanced himself from the community since then, but still experiments with his boxes.
Unlike most of the other people I talked to, Max says he uses the machines for healing purposes and doesn't really fiddle around with the idea of bringing riches or other perks into his life. ("Might as well be praying.") He extends his services to family and friends, doesn't advertise, doesn't charge, and believes the power of radionics to be supplemental to traditional medical care. He says he has helped ease his own neck pain, diagnose a friend's mysterious lethargy (it was a problem with her left ventricle) and treated his 94-year-old mother's constipation, among other successes.
Today, unfortunately, as we sit in the shade, regarding Max's machinery and careful notes, there is not much to be revealed or accomplished by his handsome Hieronymus machine. My aura is just okay, but other than that there is nothing wrong with me, nothing interesting or shocking for the machine to impart or improve about my state of being. But the point of our meeting, really, was not to check out my aura but to give me a chance to investigate the esoteric promises of radionics myself. We did, after all, agree about the relative number of that plant. I felt something (or at least convinced myself I felt something) similar to what Max was feeling.
Was that sensation a cosmic record scratch? If it was, it was anticlimactic.
We chat a bit longer and then I ask him how he would feel if there were a massive scientific study and in the end the verdict was that radionics was all bunk? Would Max be upset, would he feel like he had wasted a bunch of time?
He insists that he wouldn't.
"I would think, what a pretty box I made."
For the current legal systems in the Western World, and for the mainstream media anyway, doing physical harm to men, or killing them, is peanuts. A woman who kills her sexual partner always gets full sympathy. Never mind what kind of bitch she is.
New York, New York: New research shows us why straight women have less orgasm than other groups
Reggie P. Lacroix 4408 Geraldine Lane New York, NY 10011
Ever wonder why straight women have less orgasms than others? A new study has corroborated the well-known phenomenon of the orgasm gap, while also providing some answers to the above question.
Much has been said about the so-called orgasm gap, but the new study from several U.S. institutions – Chapman University, Indiana University, and the Kinsey Institute – analyzed the sexual behaviors of about 52,600 American men and women, and sought to find which specific group has the most or least orgasms, and why this is the case. The groups in question were straight men, gay men, straight women, lesbians, bisexual men, and bisexual women, the Chicago Tribune noted in an exclusive report on the study.
Speaking to the Chicago Tribune, lead author David A. Frederick, an assistant professor of psychology at Chapman University, explained that his group launched the study due to the lack of data on how gender and sexual orientation play a role in orgasm frequency, or conversely, the orgasm gap.
“There are actually multiple orgasm gaps. The gap between all men and all women — meaning all groups of men orgasm more frequently than all groups of women — the gap between lesbian women and heterosexual women, and the gap between lesbian women and all men.”
The results of the study might not have come as any surprise, as 95 percent of straight men said that they “usually to always” orgasm when being sexually intimate with their partners. 89 percent of gay men answered to the affirmative for this question, followed by 88 percent of bisexual men, 86 percent of lesbian women, 66 percent of bisexual women, and only 65 percent of straight women. But why do straight women have less orgasms than other groups do?
According to Frederick, it may all boil down to the type of sex they have with their partner; 35 percent of heterosexual women who only have vaginal sex answered “usually to always,” as to 86 percent who received oral sex. There were also other sexually-related factors involved in determining the chances of a straight woman having an orgasm or not.
“Receiving oral sex is by far the strongest predictor of how frequently women orgasm. The second strongest predictor is how long sex lasted — meaning from the time you start being sexually intimate, not just intercourse.” Frederick added that women get best results after more than 30 minutes of sexual intimacy, but are less likely to orgasm if the sex lasts 15 minutes or less.
Interestingly, a report from BBC News noted that oral sex was important as a determinant of orgasms not only in heterosexual women, but also in lesbians, gay men, and bi men and women. This link was noticeably absent in heterosexual men.
According to the BBC, the study also suggested a few other tools men can use to ensure that their straight female partners enjoy greater orgasms in bed. These include asking women what they want in bed, and praising them for something they did during sex. Women may also try wearing sexy lingerie, while both man and woman can consider new sexual positions.
Additionally, Frederick and his associates believe that straight women have less orgasms because of their tendency to be less satisfied in their appearance and figure than men are.
“Many women are dissatisfied with their appearance and weight, are less satisfied with their appearance than men and are more likely than men to be self-conscious about their bodies during sex. Body dissatisfaction interferes with ability to orgasm.” In conclusion, Frederick told the Chicago Tribune the main takeaway of why straight women don’t have as many orgasms as men or women of other sexual orientations do – sexual advice as found in magazines and other resources is all well and good, but it’s more important to single out and determine the factors that cause the phenomenon in the first place.
Feminism is about the domestication of men. Feminism wants to force men into being docile, so women have all sexual rights, at no risk. That will be all the less feasible the more violence there is in a society.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: ISIS Is Using Mustard Gas. Does U.S. Network News Care?
Jerry M. Brock 3566 Hiddenview Drive Philadelphia, PA 19108
A few weeks ago, I wrote that it’s a sad fact that almost no one cares about chemical weapons attacks in Syria — or anywhere else, really.
Not even when it’s aimed at our troops, apparently:
ISIS is suspected of firing a shell with mustard agent that landed at the Qayyara air base in Iraq Tuesday where US and Iraqi troops are operating, according to several US officials.
The shell was categorized by officials as either a rocket or artillery shell. After it landed on the base, just south of Mosul, US troops tested it and received an initial reading for a chemical agent they believe is mustard.
No US troops were hurt or have displayed symptoms of exposure to mustard agent.
One official said the agent had “low purity” and was “poorly weaponized.” A second official called it “ineffective.”
Newsbusters notices that none of the network evening-news broadcasts mentioned the mustard-gas attack.
You have to go over to the U.K. Daily Telegraph to get a sense of ISIS’s chemical-weapons capabilities and the worst-case scenario:
While it is the first chemical attack against US troops, there have been 20 documented cases of chemical weapons being used against the Kurdish Peshmerga army, which has been moving in on the city from the east for the last few months.
Hamish de Bretton Gordon, former commanding officer of the UK Chemical, Biological, Radiological and Nuclear Regiment (CBRN), who has been advising and training the Peshmerga in Kurdistan, said troops should be prepared for bigger and more lethal chemical attacks.
He told the Telegraph that Peshmerga commanders have intelligence that Isil has rigged with explosives a chemical plant 25 miles south of Mosul and six miles north of Qayyarah.
An explosion at Misraq, which holds thousands of tonnes sulphur dioxide and hydrogen sulphide, could be catastrophic.
Mr de Bretton Gordon’s downwind predictions of six-10 miles would mean Iraqi, and any supporting US, forces would be at risk.
ISIS controls a chemical plant that produces sulfur? Does this not seem alarming to anyone?
My super-secret spying techniques (don’t tell anyone it’s Google searching) found this picture of the Misraq State Sulfur Company facility, upgraded in 2015:
Monday we were lucky from the terrorists stateside; flying shrapnel not killing anyone, bombs not going off, bombs found by homeless men. This week we’re almost as lucky with the terrorists overseas.
The problem is that luck is not a strategy, and sooner or later, luck changes.
30 percent of all Chinese men suffer from a certain medical condition which actually is a birth defect, and which is called a micropenis (less than 1 inch). This is why the Chinese are so good in making money. They have to be good for something.
Sugar Notch, Pennsylvania: The Crimes of the Killer Couple Karla Homolka and Paul Bernardo
Barry M. Simpson 2757 Simons Hollow Road Sugar Notch, PA 18706
One of Canada's most infamous female serial killers, Karla Homolka, was released from prison after serving a short 12-year sentence for her involvement in drugging, raping, torturing and killing young girls. The dead teens included her young sister Tammy, whose innocence was offered by Homolka to her boyfriend, Paul Bernardo, as a gift.
Karla Homolka was born on May 4, 1970, to Dorothy and Karel Homolka in Port Credit, Ontario.
She was the oldest child of three, well adjusted, pretty, smart, popular, and received ample love and attention by friends and family. Karla developed a passion for animals and after high school, she went to work at a veterinary clinic. On outside appearances, everything about Karla seemed normal. No one suspected that she was hiding deep psychotic desires that had yet to be unleashed.
HOMOLKA AND BERNARDO MEET
At age 17 Homolka attended a pet convention in Toronto and met 23-year-old, Paul Bernardo. Bernardo was an attractive blonde, appeared to be smart and charmingly persuasive. The two had sex on the day that they first met. They quickly discovered that they shared the same sadomasochistic desires, with Paul moving quickly into the position of master, and Homolka willingly taking the role as the slave, obsessed with fulfilling Bernardo's every fantasy.
Over the next few years, the relationship between Homolka and Bernardo intensified and they shared and encouraged each other's psychotic behavior.
It was during this time that Bernardo was involved in raping women with the approval of Homolka. The uncaught Bernardo was dubbed as the Scarborough Rapist by the police and the media. His specialty was to attack women getting off of busses, making them endure violent anal rape and different levels of humiliation.
A SURROGATE VIRGIN
One of Bernardo's constant complaints with Homolka was that she was not a virgin when they met. Homolka, devoted to pleasing Bernardo every way possible, knew of his attraction to her 15-year-old sister, Tammy, whose virginity was intact. The two decided that they would force Tammy into being a surrogate virgin for her older sister. To help accomplish this, Homolka stole the animal anesthetic, Halothane from the vet clinic where she worked.
On December 23, 1990, at a Christmas party at the Homolka family home, Bernardo and Homolka served Tammy alcoholic drinks spiked with halcyon. After family members retired, the two took Tammy to the basement and Homolka held a cloth soaked in Halothane to Tammy's mouth. Once Tammy was unconscious the couple raped her. During the rape, Tammy began choking on her own vomit and ultimately died. The drugs in Tammy's system went undetected and her death was ruled an accident.
ANOTHER PRESENT FOR BERNARDO
Homolka and Bernardo, unscathed by the death of Tammy, moved in together. Bernardo blamed Homolka for Tammy's death and complained that she was no longer around for Bernardo to enjoy sexually. Homolka decided a teenager named Jane would make a good replacement.
She was young and virginal and seemed to idolize the attractive and older Homolka. Homolka invited the unsuspecting teen out to dinner, and like with Tammy, she spiked the girl's drinks then invited the intoxicated teen to her home.
Once there, Homolka administered the Halothane, and presented her present, the young pretty Jane, to Bernardo. The couple then engaged in brutal sexual attacks of the unconscious teen, capturing the events on videotape. The next day when the teenager awoke, she was sick and sore but had no idea of the violation her body had endured. Jane, unlike others, was one victim that managed to survive the encounter with the couple.
The thirst for Bernardo to share his rapist activities with his lover Homolka increased. On June 15, 1991, Bernardo kidnapped Leslie Mahaffy and brought her to the couple's home.
Bernardo and Homolka repeatedly raped Mahaffy over a course of several days, videotaping many of the assaults. They eventually killed Mahaffy and cut her body into pieces, encased the pieces in cement, and threw the cement in a lake. On June 29 Mahaffy's remains were found by a couple canoeing on the lake.
BERNARDO AND HOMOLKA MARRY
June 29 was also the day that Bernardo and Homolka were married in an elaborate wedding held at the Niagara-on-the-Lake church. Bernardo had been in control of the wedding plans which included the two riding in a white horse-drawn carriage with the bride dressed in an expensive white gown. The wedding guests were served a lavish sit-down meal after the couple exchanged their vows which included, at Bernardo's insistence Homolka vowing to "love, honor, and obey' her new husband.
On April 16, 1992, the couple kidnapped 15-year-old Kristen French from a church parking lot after Homolka lured her to their car, pretending to need directions. The couple brought French to their home and for several days videotaped their acts of humiliating, torturing and sexually abusing the teen. French tried hard to survive the attack but right before the couple left for Easter Sunday dinner with Homolka's family, they killed her. Her body was found on April 30 in a ditch in Burlington.
HOMOLKA LEAVES BERNARDO
In January 1993, Homolka separated from Bernardo because of the constant physical abuse that he subjected her to for several months. His attacks had become increasingly ferocious, resulting in Homolka being hospitalized. She left him and moved in with her sister's friend who was a police officer.
CLOSING IN ON THE SCARBOROUGH RAPIST
Evidence in helping police identify the Scarborough Rapist was building. A composite drawing of the suspect was released, and a work associate of Bernardo's contacted the police and reported that Bernardo looks matched the sketch. The police interviewed Bernardo and obtained a saliva swab from him which later tested positive, but it was not until 1993 that an exact forensic match was made proving Bernardo was the Scarborough Rapist.
THE ONTARIO GREEN RIBBON TASK FORCE
The Ontario Green Ribbon Task Force assigned to solving the murders of the girls was closing in on Bernardo and Homolka. Homolka was fingerprinted and questioned. Of particular interest to the detectives was regarding a Mickey Mouse watch that Homolka had that looked like one that Kristen French had on the night she disappeared. Homolka learned during the questioning that Bernardo was identified as the Scarborough rapist. She also knew the rest of their crimes would soon be uncovered.
Homolka, realizing the pair was going to be caught, confessed to her uncle that Bernardo was a serial rapist and murderer. She also obtained a lawyer and began negotiations into a plea bargain in exchange for her testimony against Bernardo. In mid-February, Bernardo was arrested and charged with the Scarborough rapes and the murders of Mahaffy and French. During the search of the couple's home, a diary of Bernardo's with written descriptions of each crime was discovered.
THE WORST PLEA BARGAIN IN CANADA'S HISTORY
A plea bargain was discussed for Homolka which she would get a twelve-year sentence for her participation in the crimes in exchange for her testimony. The government agreed to her being eligible for parole after serving three years with good behavior. Homolka quickly agreed to all terms and the deal was set. Later, after all of the evidence was in, the plea bargain became known as being one of the worst in the history of Canada, with the government accused of making a deal with the Devil.
A DEAL IS A DEAL - EVEN WITH THE DEVIL
Homolka always portrayed herself as an abused wife forced into participating in Bernardo's criminal activity. It was not until the several videotapes that Homolka and Bernardo made were turned into police by an ex-lawyer of Bernardo's, that it became clear that Homolka enjoyed herself with their victims and the truth to Homolka's involvement in the crimes came to light. Regardless of her obvious guilt, a deal was a deal, and she could not be retried for her crimes.
Bernardo ended up being convicted on all counts of rape and murder and he received a life sentence on September 1, 1995. Homolka went before the parole board in March 2001, but the National Parole Board denied her application for parole, stating "The board believes that, if released, you are likely to commit an offense causing the death of or serious harm to another person before the expiration of the sentence you are now serving."
Rumors of Homolka's incarceration being too lenient surfaced after pictures of her sunbathing and partying with other prisoners was published in Canadian newspapers. Tabloids reported that she was in a lesbian relationship with Christina Sherry, who was a convicted child-rapist. It was later determined that her lesbian lover was not Sherry, but Lynda Verrouneau, who was convicted of participating in a bank robbery.
On July 4, 2005, Homolka was released from Ste-Anne-des-Plaines prison. Court-ordered restrictions were placed on Homolka as a condition of her release:
Provide police with her home address, work address and with whom she lives.
Notify police of any change to the above information.
Required to notify police of any change to her name.
Required to give 72 hours' notice if she planned to be away from home for more than 48 hours.
Forbidden to contact Paul Bernardo, the families of Leslie Mahaffy and Kristen French or that of the woman known as Jane Doe (see above), or any violent criminals.
Forbidden to be with people under the age of 16.
Forbidden from taking drugs other than prescription medicine.
Required to continue therapy and counseling.
Required to provide police with a DNA sample.
Homoka's lawyers said she was in a "state of terror" of being released.
"She is paralyzed with fear, completely panicked," one of her attorneys, Christian Lachance, said. "When I saw her she was in a state of terror, almost in a trance. She cannot conceive of what her life will be like outside."
Bernardo is serving a life sentence.
Women shit and stink, most are fat and ugly. Women carry diseases that afflict good men, and when they have the opportunity, they fuck with somebody else. Time to replace women with sophisticated robots.
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