F.D.R. (F*ck Da Rich):

Naked TIGER

by Dr. Susan Block.    

Kung Hei Fat Choi! Happy Lunar New Year! Two years ago, our Chinese New Year festivities ushered in a Coronavirus Spring. That was the Year of the (Dirty) Rat, though the Year of the Ox wasn’t much healthier—mentally or physically. Now we’re entering the Year of the Tiger, so maybe we can pounce on the problem and roar ourselves out of this strange, virus-laced, climate-changing, warmongering, neo-Puritanical, Capitalogenic mess.

Messed, blessed and a little stressed by it all, the Love Train roars like that tiger out of Bonoboville station and into your ears.

Are YOU “So Over” Covid Too?   

From one masked Chinese New Year to another… and now another, many people are complaining about various pandemic restrictions. They want to get back to “normal”… especially rich people. The rest of us just want another Covid relief check (yo Joe!) so we can pay some bills between illnesses. However, the rich—or as we say on F.D.R. (Fuck Da Rich), “Da Rich”—want to enjoy their money, power and fame! Can you blame the poor—I mean, rich—things?

NAKED TIGER!!! Can you spot the naked ladies who make up this “tiger”? Body-Painting by Craig Tracy

Check out rich reactionary pundit Bari Weiss whining to Bill Maher about how she is “so done” with Covid—and so are her rich friends, even the “liberal” ones—regardless of whether Covid is done with her, them or us. Bari is the intellectual essence of mediagenic cluelessness. Her Rightwing red meat-burning verbosity mixed with elite pomposity is clickbait for all, including me.

Of course, some folks are squeezing into packed concerts and storming school board meetings, often maskless, spitting mad or drunk and drooling, throwing caution to the infected wind.  At least, Bari is trying to be “good,” so she claims, though her utterly insensitive declaration of doneness makes me want to throw up my Chinese Tiger tail soup.

 

Everyone misses something about their pre-Coronapocalypse lives. For me, it’s the orgies.

Though I feel her frustration; Bari just wants to go shopping and socialize maskless (so her fans can recognize her, of course), and bloviate wittily before packed crowds of racist book-buying pseudo-intellectuals. I get it, Bari. I feel your pain. What a tough time to be a star.

Group Sex in the Omicron Age

Everyone misses something about their pre-Coronapocalypse lives. For me, it’s the orgies.

It’s true that orgies have always been a little dangerous—with all those people and possibilities—but now, in terms of spreading a virus, they are ridiculously risky for anyone who cares a little bit about safety and isn’t on mushrooms.

 

Orgying in the Erotic Theater of the Mind or through the magic of video is pretty safe, at least in terms of Omicron. So, in the spirit of that communal ecstasy that Capt’n Max and I so miss, this week’s throwback is one of our biggest orgies ever in Bonoboville (concentrated on one bed, that is; we’ve had bigger ones with sex spread throughout the Speakeasy): “Erotique ORGY in the Womb Room: Group Sex in the Digital Age.”

What a fornication fest, led by the amazing Eric John—well-hung MIT grad and former Boeing executive who turned his back on the sordid, death-dealing Military-Industrial Complex to become an honest porn mogul. Eric, his lovely wife Vicki Chase (whom he met at Chase bank), and about 10 or so Olympic sexual athletes, all have sex on my big brass bed. 

Actually, that was my biggest bed ever, comprised of several mattresses, on an elevated stage surrounded by other beds and mattresses for the in-studio audience to relax upon while watching the show.  

This brings us back to the Mattress Madness, harassment and Kangaroo Court of the City of Arcadia which Capt’n Max addresses with passion and courage worthy of the passionate, courageous Year of the Tiger. Those City Council Kangaroos better watch out for this Tiger’s impending lawsuit.

The Rockin’ Geezer Revolt

From suits to boycotts, we talk about Neil Young and the Rockin’ Geezer Revolt against Joe Rogaine and Spotify. We’re still on Spotify (and several other platforms), though we support Neil, Joni Mitchell, Paul McCartney, the Rolling Stones and the other old fogey musicians.

Keep calm and Keep On Rockin’ in the Free World.

Joe Rogan has some lame opinions on important subjects, and obviously his hair loss treatments don’t work. Plus the former Jackass host interviews some true jackasses like Drs. Richard Malone and Jordan Peterson, though he’s also interviewed awesome people like Abby Martin, Dr. Cornel West and Bernie Sanders and talked up bonobos with Elon Musk. He has a right to speak, and people have a right to boycott him. Boycotting is not censorship. Banning Toni Morrison’s Beloved, Art Speigalman’s Maus and Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale in libraries is censorship. Removing our Insurrection show from Youtube is censorship.

Taking people’s guns is not censorship. That’s what filmmaker/activist/geezer Michael Moore advocates in his latest anti-gun violence manifesto.

Michael reminds us that America is NOT addicted to guns, as some like to say. Actually, 78% of Americans do NOT own guns. According to a 2016 Harvard-Northeastern study, only 22% of Americans own any guns at all. Only 3% of Americans own half the guns in America!

I met Michael Moore several years ago at an Emmys party. He scowled and growled something like “nice to meet you” when someone introduced us, which I didn’t take personally… until he turned his rather large back on me to scowl and growl at someone else. So, I have no personal love for the man. However, I admire his films, and Max and I even hosted a big, boisterous watch party back in 2004 for Fahrenheit 9/11 at the Speakeasy (featuring great political art exhibits like “Bush Sucks“) with MoveOn and the Yale Annex.

Michael acknowledges that a lot of white gun owners are racist scaredy-cats or just plain nuts, i.e., mentally ill (that’s Reagan’s legacy). The problem, as I see it, is that Moore and so many other antiwar and anti-gun activists don’t acknowledge the sexual thrill that so many gun owners get from their guns and ammo, an ammosexual thrill that is praised and honored—at least by the NRA and their fellow gun lovers—while so many other sexual thrills and consenting adult practices are denigrated and despised.

No wonder we are morphing into a nation of Ammosexual Incels!

But we can fight back (without guns)! We are the 78%! Though we need a little sex-positive consciousness to counterbalance taking away these poor guys’ penis substitutes.

America’s violence industry is beefing up the export side of the business. As we discuss on the Love Train, I sincerely hope that all of Biden’s war talk about Ukraine is just to bluff Russia. I mean, a war over the Ukraine is so ridiculous, so unpopular, so sure to destroy much more than we bargain for. Biden must be bluffing!

Unfortunately, I also thought Bush, Sr. and Junior were bluffing about going to war on Iraq. I figured they were cleverly getting Saddam to do their bidding through the threat of war without actually going to war with all the devastation that entails.

No such luck. Both Bushes entered into disastrous wars against two countries with next to no military resources. Now the so-called “enemy” is a lot better equipped, and a full-on hot war would be bad-verging-on-catastrophic for everyone—except the arms manufacturers, who are currently pulling the strings with their oodles of cash, trying to make more cash, having received no new orders for bombs and drones since pulling out of Afghanistan, creating this whole utterly unnecessary and bound to be tragic “war.” 

Meanwhile, as the Perma-Wars rage on, Julian Assange, the world’s greatest living antiwar journalist, continues to be prosecuted (really persecuted). At least, now Assange’s lawyers have won the right to appeal his U.S. extradition at the U.K. Supreme Court. FREE ASSANGE!

Love & Vice

And yes, very soon, Vice is coming back to Bonoboville, having determined scientifically that Max and I are “icons.”

Showing off Speakeasy Journal: Splosh Edition to VICE on Google Meets

Who knows what will actually happen between now and then, though they’d like to film an orgy here, and two years ago, that would have been no problem, but now… Actually, it’s probably no problem now to gather a bunch of horny exhibitionists to fuck, suck and breathe all over each other, if properly motivated. The problem is me!  I love orgies, but they’re not “to die for.” Maybe I can participate in a hazmat suit. If YOU want to participate in the orgy, or give a true testimonial about how much you love phone sex therapy with the Dr. Susan Block Institute, or how much you hate us (to which we will then respond—this being Vice’s idea of injecting “conflict” into the segment), call us at 213.291.9497. It should be fun (famous last words)!

The High Holidays of LoveValentine’s Day, Lupercalia and World Bonobo Day—are coming… in every sense of the word! Are YOU ready? Might want to call the Therapists Without Borders of the Dr. Susan Block Institute for your Romance Refresher (in all senses of the term)!

In the meantime, Kung Hei Fat Choi! In honor of the Chinese New Year of the Tiger, I’m broadcasting this show naked on my tiger-print sheepskin rug (a gift from a sex therapy client; I don’t buy fur). That’s why you can’t see me. Though I happened to wear animal print for our Vice meeting–so I’m unconsciously in sync with the season am I!

Btw, if you’re here for the naked stuff, check out Zorthian: Art & Times.

And #GoBonobos in 2022!

© January 29,  2022 Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 213-291-9497.

PHOTO ALBUM

 

Show Length 01:08:12  Date: January 29, 2022


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