DomCon 2019: The MetGala of Kink, FemDom Bonobos, SPANK ‘n’ ART, Bezos’ Pecker, A Good Life, A Bad Death & Bigfoot
by Dr. Susan Block.
Length 0:36:14 Date: May 11, 2019
In a roiling sea of greed-driven, militaristic, misogynistic, racist, kleptocratic, ecocidal patriarchies, DomCon is an island of female empowerment, male well-being and peace through pleasure… with a little bit of pain.
It’s the Bonobo Way in boots, latex and chains.
It’s the Comic-Con of kink, the Met Gala of BDSM and Game of Thrones without all the gross and gratuitous mass murder and mayhem… and even better outfits.
But really, it’s so much more… it’s DomCon!
No wonder I’ve relished participating in this gathering of powerful, beautiful women—natal, trans and queens-for-a-day—every Spring for the past five years, having so much fun, always learning and discovering new people, sensations and ideas at the workshops, the Mistress Photos, the Marketplace, the Jacuzzi, the parties, the balls and in the private rooms that spin off from public DomCon like electric sparks from the crack of the Goddess’ whip.
Oh, and the guys are cool too. Dom, Lord, Guru, subby, sissy, switch, cuckold, exhibitionist, voyeur or my tech crew, almost all show great respect for the female, inside and out.
The very few exceptions—thanks to the gracious but firm leadership of Mistress Cyan, Goddess Phoenix, Madame Margherite, Genesis, Mistress Precious, Mistress Porcelain Midnight and Sea-of-All-Trades—are given the boot, sometimes literally.
Though for a boot slave, getting the boot is a reward.
It’s all about context, protocol and deep, hard-earned wisdom among the Dommes.
I love the Dommes! I’ve been honored to give a talk about bonobos as the “FemDoms of the Wild” to these FemDoms of the World, every DomCon for the past four years (my first year was just a visit, courtesy of Goddess Soma Snakeoil), and it is always such a pleasure and a privelege.
Every year I change it up a bit, and every year (especially this year!), I discover that my bonobo philosophy is more warmly received and better understood by audience members watching the talk for the third or fourth time, as well as the newbies who don’t know bonobos from bananas.
I’m excited to report that there’s a bonobo movement among the FemDoms of DomCon, and it may even be strong enough to “carry on when I’m gone”…!
Nous Sommes Arrivés!
Not that I was going anywhere… but DomCon!
Though with the immense Bonoboville move to our awesome new space and half our stuff still in boxes and bubblewrap, I wasn’t even sure I’d make it this year.
But how could I resist the siren call of the FemDoms? At first, we thought we’d just go for the day of my talk, but then we figured we might as well make a weekend of it.
I didn’t have time to arrange a whole wardrobe of new latex, though Demask came through with my main outfit in sleek, classic red and black.
Otherwise, I wore dresses I’d already worn at DomCons past, but that just gave me a chance to rock some oldies but goodies.
Striding through the Hilton in my skintight sapphire and onyx, custom-made Mademoiselle Ilo French frock, I felt like a latex fashion queen among queens, kings, countesses, kinky courtiers and court jesters.
Then there were the gawking tourists who were just staying at the LAX Hilton between flights. We kept it clean in the public areas, of course, but those kids got a lot more of a fantasy eyeful than seeing Snow White doing Goofy in the Disneyland restroom . I wanted to take their pictures, but I didn’t want to get arrested. The Moms tried to look unfazed (just two days until Mother’s Day), but the poor Dads got whiplash checking out the parade. Me too… from trying to take selfies with all the Dommes.
My little Bonoboville-on-the-Road entourage (Capt’n Max, Unscene Abe and Shannon Sweet) had a bite at the Hilton snackeria.
Then we got ourselves registered without too much fuss by the Princess-of-Registration, Mistress Cyan’s patient and lovely real-life daughter Jenna.
One little snag led to a brisk intervention by the marvelous and efficient Madame Margherite.
I’m so proud of Madame M, especially since the Dr. Susan Block Show was her first public appearance in LA on our Splosh ‘n’ Art show (which became our first Speakeasy Journal) in November, 2016.
From there, she has flown to great heights in the BDSM world, like one of the human birds she handles as the kink world’s premiere Animal Play Monarch, and now she has found her perfect perch as DomCon’s marketing director.
We took that opportunity to present Madame M with a copy of our brand spanking new SPANK ‘n’ ART Speakeasy Journal in which she appears, kissing her love at midnight on New Year’s Eve while Dommes and Doms spank joyous subbies all around her.
Her delighted response to Capt’n Max’s newest publication (I’m the author; he’s the publisher), was just our first taste of the hosannas that would issue forth from all who flipped through the colorful pages, almost as shiny as lubed latex and not as high-maintenance. Just drop it on your coffee table (that’s what Madame Margherite does with Splosh), and it’s sure to impress your friends. Though you might want to hide it on Mother’s Day, depending on your Mom (lots of MILFs come to DomCon, so you never know).
Amazon KDP wouldn’t publish it (though they published Splosh and The Bonobo Way with nary a problem), but they won’t tell us why they wouldn’t publish it, which page(s), photo(s) or text passage(s) are in “violation” of their “standards.” They won’t even tell us that they won’t tell us.
Maybe it’s too hot with all those warm buns, not to mention a few glimpses of yoni and lingam. Probably it’s because of the Jeff Bezos dick pic. Apparently, too many billions leaves the richest dude in the world with no room for a sense of humor.
But honestly, we don’t know. The unfailingly polite Amazon and KDP “specialists” have been stringing us along with this thing for months, saying someone from “content review” will get back to us with specific information, so we could resubmit it, but no one ever did.
Unsurprisingly, we’ve heard of Amazon doing this to several of our friends and colleagues, such as Nicholas Tana and Sticky: A (Self) Love Story. Its contemporary stealth censorship in action, one of the most insidious forms of artistic, literary and journalistic suppression there is.
So, off we went to Downtown LA Printer and, with the help of Carmen, Marco and rest of the staff (who are not just polite, but honest and efficient), we got 100 beautiful copies printed within a few days, and just in time for DomCon.
Though we had to pay a little more upfront (because Amazon lets you order one at a time), we’re so glad we did it!
Just to see Madame M’s eyes light up like Sabbath candles (Shabbat Shalom!), as well as the exceedingly pleased reactions of so many hard-to-please dominatrices made it more than worth the extra expense.
Friday Night Frivolities
After registering, we ogled the merchandise in the DomCon marketplace.
Sybians, floggers, chastity belts, butt plugs—oh my! What a cornucopia of kink accessories.
I’m not too modest to say I received more than my “fair” share of praise for Mademoiselle Ilo’s divine dress as I made my “first pass” down the vibrant, eye-popping Marketplace aisles.
Though most of the compliments flowed to my feet, clad in rainbow high-heeled pumps just in time for LGBTQ Pride Season, which I hated to admit I got on Amazon (ugh). What can I say, I love the colors of sexual freedom, wherever I can hunt or gather them.
Then we ventured into the Pro-Dom social. I love pro-Doms and pro-Dommes, but I myself am not one, though I dress like one sometimes, especially for DomCon, and I love to give spankings. But I’m a therapist, not a dominatrix. Maybe it comes down to that I just can’t make that mean, stern scowl that so many Dommes do so well. That is to say, I can put on the mean, stern scowl, but it’s not me. I’m better at smiling, or even laughing which, when you think about it, could be pretty dominant, but not in the pro-Domme tradition of stern, mean Domme-y Mommy looks, perfect for Mother’s Day, if your Mom is/was stern or mean, and mine was neither.
Not that pro-Doms don’t have a great sense of humor (unlike Bezos). We recognized the Pro-Dom social room by the slave boy on all fours facing the corner by the door, apparently on a “time out” for naughty behavior. I wish we’d gotten a shot of him, but I did get some of the shiny eye candy inside.
However, the party was so crowded, my whole entourage left within ten minutes, and there I was trapped among the giantesses, my latex heating up and my rainbow-heeled feet breaking down.
I managed to take a seat on the imperial couch by jovial Goddess Genesis—who had first announced her marriage to Mistress Cyan on my Lupercalia celebration in 2017. Next to her was Mistress Precious who let it be known that the sweetness of her name was an “oxymoron” as she is a true sadist. I believe she enjoys delivering pain to pain sluts, but she was sweet as bonobo cream pie with me, and we had a great conversation about how important to DomCon is bonobo female solidarity. DomCon Atlanta never took off because, for whatever reason, the Dommes made it more of a competition than the love fest it is in LA and New Orleans.
Within a half-hour, I made my escape, whereupon Max massaged my tortured toes (he’s soooo good at that!), and we elevatored down to one of our favorite DomCon perches, the Hilton bar (we love hotel bars, in general), where there were also plenty of good friends, interesting strangers and several passionate Bonobo Way fans, but a lot more breathing room.
And lots more big love for SPANK ‘n’ ART!
We gave a copy to Goddess Soma, spanker extraordinaire, who is featured in lots of glorious photos, including several with Dominatrixes Against Donald Trump (D.A.D.).
We gave another one to Jux Lii—cozying up to the lovely Alexia (not Alexa, Bezos’ sexbot, thank Goddess)—who took many of the photos, including the spank-tacular cover.
Pretty soon the whole bar was checking it out, oohing and aahing over the photos, squinting to make out the text, and soaking in our tale of how Bezos really wanted National Enquirer’s David Pecker to publish his pecker, practically begging for it on his billion-dollar knees, but not us.
Well, take your spanking, Blue Origin Boy; we published it without you. So, fly to the moon and stay there, where you can get spanked and show your dick to the loonies laughing at you from above and below.
Presenting… FemDoms of the Wild: The Bonobo Way of BDSM
After going to bed late, we got up bright and early to get ready for my talk/workshop.
Sleep is a rare commodity at DomCon.
Then there was the mad, sleepy-while-coffee’ing-up scramble to prepare the “set.”
Nevertheless, my talk went great!
I certainly enjoyed it.
PHOTOS: UNCENE ABE
I especially enjoyed the part where sexy Shannon and “Most Well-Rounded Kinkster” SUZY award winner, Rhiannon Aarons, lubed up my Demask latex cherry-red bodysuit and tight black micro-miniskirt.
I guess the packed-like-sardines audience enjoyed it too; at least they laughed, clapped and gasped in all the right places.
Though one couple walked out after five minutes, leaving two seats empty all the way to the side where late comers couldn’t get to them. Probably Trumpanzees or spies for Amazon.
Also, I messed up the order of my “Five Things We Know About Bonobos,” delivering #4: The Males Are Happy before #3: Females Rule Bonoboville, maybe because my bonobo boys, Del Rey and Tim Sewell, looked so horny, antsy and ready to play.
PHOTOS: DON JUAN
But nobody seemed to mind.
After all, when you start your talk giving away free fresh bananas to the hungry, you’re bound to get a good response. Besides, we’re living in a Banana Republic these days, aren’t we?
Speaking of bananas, I made the banana-brain Trumpanzee-in-Chief (a tRump mask on a big stuffed banana) sit in the corner on a Jeffrey Vallance puppy pee pad (in case he had an accident), with his Presidunce cap on his head and a banana stuffed into his big mouth, peel and all.
PHOTO 1: DON JUAN. PHOTOS 2 & 4: UNSCENE ABE. PHOTO 3: JUX LII
Partly to spite tRump’s racism, and partly because we love interracial sex—and food!—we even had brown bananas from Ecuador as well as yellow bananas from Ralph’s.
I’ve been doing the banana giveaway for my last few talks at DomCon 2018 and Adultcon; I guess that makes me the Banana Lady.
Which is to say, I’m a sex therapist: I get the banana in the cream pie. Or I help two bananas or two cream pies get together, create an orgy of fruit and nuts, or put the banana in chastity. Whatever your fare, I’ll get you there.
Just in case you think I spend the whole time on bananas… don’t worry, I do get to bonobos (who really like bananas).
Plus I jazz up the talk with the help of my all-new-for-DomCon Commedia Erotica Players, Shannon, Rhiannon, Del Rey and Tim.
With no rehearsal (except for Shannon, last Saturday) and not much of a plan (the best laid plans may not get you laid the way you planned!) they were all terrific.
Their hilarious and heartfelt dramatizations helped me show the audience just how 1) Bonobos are very close to us (genetically and spiritually), 2) Bonobos have a LOT of sex (quality and quantity) in a Bonobo Sutra of Positions, 3) Females Rule Bonoboville, 4) Bonobos Males like it, 5) Bonobos make peace through pleasure. That is, bonobos have (thus far) never been seen killing each other in the wild or captivity.
Between their creativity, adaptability and marvelous, very realistic, bonoboesque gorilla masks provided by Rhiannon, plus the pink girly bonobo mask made for me by Mario Saucedo, they were all awesome.
Del Rey even juggled his own balls!
Actually, they’re my juggling matzah balls, leftover from our Easter 420 Passover.
It’s the climax of a “Trust Game” which I’ve described many times before, based on a real story told by primatologist, Dr. Isabel Behncke, but this time my Commedia Erotica Players acted it out for me.
That is, Del Rey Bonobo lets Rhiannon Bonobo lead him around “by the balls” (two apples and a banana) until “Trust Meets Lust,” and they have sex, but they can only go so far with leg-humping in the Hilton.
That’s when he juggles his balls as a symbolic gesture of orgasm.
As always, hoka hoka was a big hit.
Hoka hoka, aka “genito-genital rubbing,” aka GG-rubbing is the erotic basis for female empowerment in Bonoboville.
Yes indeed, females rule Bonoboville, and the males are quite happy with this arrangement (after all, they get laid by hot females and each other!), which is why I call bonobos the Femdoms of the Wild.
“Penis-fencing” also elicited it’s fair share of oohs, ah hahs and giggles, but it’s a very effective way for fighting bonobo males to make “peace through pleasure.”
PHOTOS: JUX LII
Plus I got several people laid, aka “lei’ed” with an an Agwa di Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur lei, for answering my questions correctly, such as Chynna Doll, Shannon Coronado, Goddess Sydney Jones and Empress Cassandra, who was at the talk for at least her second time, but still, that showed she was paying close attention.
Even the fire extinguisher got lei’ed (see photos).
The talk climaxed with me spanking Rhiannon over the knee (OTK) 12 times, one for each of the 12 Steps to Releasing Your Inner Bonobo.
But once again, I got some steps mixed up, so I probably spanked her 14 times, each spank eliciting a cute hoot.
For that, and so much more, she got her own copy of SPANK ‘n’ ART, and so did Tim.
At that point, it was time to say “Thank You DomCon” and bask in the warm thundershower of adulatory applause for a few narcissistic seconds.
There was just time enough before the next talk to answer some questions and changed from my OTK boots back to my slightly more comfortable (and easier to kick off and go stocking-footed) red-bottom heels.
PHOTO 1: DON JUAN. PHOTOS 2-3: JUX LII. PHOTOS 4-5: UNSCENE ABE.
Finally, book-spankings to the needy and book-signings to the read-y (and ready)!
D.A.D. on Mother’s Day Weekend
Mistress Tara Indiana’s talk was next, so I gave her a copy of SPANK ‘n’ ART with an extra special bonobo signature. I’ve known Ms. Tara since I met her at the Cinekink Film Festival in 2005 (where my film “Dr. Suzy’s Squirt Salon” had its big screen American premiere), when she was the Queen of the New York Pro-Domme scene, and the Den of Iniquity was her palace.
Since DomCon 2016, I have been so inspired by Ms. Tara’s D.A.D. movement which has been featured on DrSuzy.Tv over a dozen times (including about half a dozen where we peed on tRUMP!) and graces almost that many pages in SPANK ‘n’ ART.
After the talk, I even sat down at the D.A.D. booth in the Marketplace and helped (or acted like I was helping) to register voters.
Bonobos show us that sex work is not some human perversion; it’s natural. Actually, almost all animals practice “sex work,” especially if they’re doing it with “consent,” as food (which is the closest thing to money for non-human animals) is often exchanged for sex. The bonobos up the ante though, as it’s often the FemDom females who pick up the check. After all, they get first dibs on food.
So it’s like, “I’ll give you a banana if you lick my cream pie.”
AVN Interview with Kim Airs and Orpheus Black
Then I literally bumped into Kim Airs writing on a notepad for AVN; it’s a wonder I didn’t fall off my red-bottom, open-toed pumps, nor Kim off her sleek black flats.
We chatted about the bonobos as the FemDoms of the Wild and how important it is for female empowerment (as well as male well-being and peace through pleasure) that the ladies get their anger and jealousy under control and support each other. Female solidarity is the name of the bonobo game. But it’s not a mindless “Believe All Women” kind of thing; the guys’ feelings are important too. It’s #MeToo Plus, with hoka-hoka, the girl-girl bonobo tango, and penis-fencing, the boys’ way of duking it out, plus literally “turning the other cheek” (butt-rubbing), lubricating life in Bonoboville.
Kim took furious notes as I blathered on and on about bonobos, so I imagine some of it will go into her AVN article. It better! I’ve known Kim since she opened Grand Opening sex toy superstore back in the early 2000s, definitely a pioneer in the sex merchandise field.
Between booths, I connected with Master Orpheus Black, a great example of a male Dom who rules his roost—married for many years, he and his wife are polyamorous—with a strong hand, but always appears to respect and honor the women who “submit” to him. Very bonobo!
DomCon Mistress Cyan St. James
Next stop, the Sanctuary booth where I cooled my hot high heels with various Dommes, subs and switches, including fabulous Georgia giantess Mistress Mia Darque, dressed down for the afternoon scene.
Slaveboy Julia (who got spanked and much more by giantess Goddess Fae Black on Goddess Fae & the FemDom 4 on DrSuzy.Tv) took a few shots of me leaning languorously on the Saint Andrew’s Cross, and Abe took shots of Slaveboy shooting me.
Shoot cameras, not guns!
PHOTOS: UNSCENE ABE
Then who did I spot but the Sanctuary and DomCon Empress Herself: Mistress Cyan, looking excellent, even though I know she has been through a lot. Of course, I was thrilled to give Her Kinky Highness a signed copy of SPANK ‘n’ ART. She seemed pretty thrilled to receive it!
As even an empress such as herself should be. Mistress Cyan is featured in several photos, including a vintage snap from 2004 where she gives me my first adult birthday spanking and flogging. It was around the same time she started DomCon, though I didn’t go until Goddess Soma persuaded me in 2015. Then in 2016, Ms. Cyan came on my show to give me another birthday spanking. I’m rarely on the receiving end (so to speak) of impact play; I only “take it” from the best, and some of my best consensual adult spankings have come from Ms. Cyan’s highly skilled hands.
To find out about my one nonconsensual childhood spanking, get SPANK ‘n’ ART, and turn to page 219.
Delicious Demask
Next, a quick stop at Demask to thank the divine Mistress Isabella Sinclaire for choosing the “perfect” latex outfit for me.
Actually nothing’s perfect; Shannon’s just got me saying “perfect” about things that aren’t perfect at all, and then when Goddess Soma said “perfect!” too, I couldn’t stop.
But my Demask outfit for DomCon 2019 comes pretty damn close.
It looked really good under the big DomCon sign posing with a lovely, voluptuous woman wearing a shirt declaring “The Future is FemDom” across her chest. She was excited to pose, and even gave Abe and me “Future is FemDom” stickers. But later she came up to us and insisted that I not show her face in the photo, though she was happy to show her body, including the shirt. Maybe she just remembered she’s a kindergarten teacher or running for President; whatever her situation, I just literally blacked out her face so now it looks like she’s wearing a very dark burqa, quite a contrast to her message.
It’s “’The Future is FemDom,’ but until that future comes, we’re living in A Handmaid’s Tale and I’m afraid to show my face.”
The DomCon Mistress Photo, Class of 2019
In search of more fearless exhibitionists, I stopped at another latex booth, that of the Baroness, a DomCon 2019 Guest of Honor who specializes in creating whimsical costumes and “kinky couture” in a variety of bright, beautiful colors.
We had some photo fun with a couple of the Baroness’ cute latex-costumed assistants, one as a schoolgirl and the other as a nurse.
Then we clickity-clacked down the hallway and up the elevator to the Hilton veranda for the Mistress Photo.
One of the highlights of DomCon, the Mistress Photos is a fantastic gathering of Goddesses, Dommes and, of course, Mistresses, for a series of pictures that resemble Class Photos… except when we gave the photographer the finger.
Also, the part where the subbies got on all fours for spanking and worship isn’t too common in Class Photos… except maybe in Alabama, Arkansas, Arizona, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Indiana, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Missouri, Mississippi, North Carolina, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas and Wyoming, all of which still allow corporal punishment in schools. And they call us perverts!
At least, DomCon BDSM is for consenting adults only!
Capt’n Max and Abe wanted to try shooting the pageantry with our new drone, but it wouldn’t work because the Airport Hilton was—get this—too close to the airport.
Baroness stood next to me, her Springy green and purple ensemble almost (but not quite) overwhelming my classic red and black.
I must say, I adored her green latex gauntlets. Very ecosexy!
After the photos, we all broke up to schmooze, smooch and spank.
I gave copies of SPANK ‘n’ ART to several featured Dommes, including Mistress Porcelain Midnight, winner of “Best Bonobo Way Book-Spanking” and “Most Creative Dominatrix” SUZY awards.
Madame Raven Rae, winner of the “Sexiest Domme” SUZY award for three years running, wasn’t even wearing latex, but she looked sexy as ever in her “Queen of Everything” tee and gold high heels.
Then there was the Domme of Dommes, winner of the SUZY award for “Most Dazzling Domme” two years running, Glamazon Goddess Phoenix.
The Goddess is in several photos in SPANK ‘n’ ART, plus the fiber-optic whip she gave me is in even more, so she had to receive a very special signature.
Naturally Goddess Phoenix regaled the crowd with a display of her Amazonian powers (no relation to Bezos), walloping a happy photographer’s exposed tummy that provided an easy target, being about as big, round and pale as an albino beach ball… with hair.
Speaking of Amazons, the six-foot (without heels) Mistress Damazonia who attended my DomCon 2017 talk, and is now part of the DomCon bonobo female empowerment “movement,” graced us with her statuesque gorgeousness in a Jesus-esque crown of thorns and black latex jacket open just enough to reveal her below-the-boobs tattoo.
More photo shoots ensued, our shiny bright fantasy garb in high contrast with the Hilton’s bland corporate structures.
So much fun to catch up with so many marvelous bonoboesque women!
I felt like a mini-human among the giantesses, some tall as skyscrapers, other wide as mansions, all beautiful in their own unique, colorful and powerful ways.
But it was too chilly, even in latex, to hang out for long on the roof, as we sometimes do, so off we split, still glowing in our colors, like rainbows in the rain.
Dominant Jacuzzi Jets Topping from the Bottom
We made a pit stop at the Hilton Honors room for champagne and munchables and a chat with Mistress Precious and Her FemDom Posse.
Then I kicked off my heels, and Max gave my aching feet a little under-the-table massage.
Down in the room, Shannon was just waking up from a nice nap (going bonobos for my talk took a lot out of her), but now she was ready for action.
Not that we felt like going to Sanctuary for the Fetish Ball, though that would have been the politic thing to do, though but we did have some fun in the room with Shannon on a leash.
I tried scowling sternly, but I wound up cracking up.
Shannon may be even less of a “true” submissive than I am a dominatrix, but she looks great in a collar on her knees before me.
By this point, having worn it for about 10 hours, my latex was taking on a life of its own, and it was hungry! While I can’t authenticate a latex bodysuit’s feelings, I can say it was eating away at my skin.
PHOTOS 1, 2, 5: DON JUAN. PHOTO 3: SELFIE. PHOTO 4: UNSCENE ABE
So I peeled it off and put on a bra and panties that looked sort of like a bathing suit, and Shannon put on a sexy coral bikini, and off we went to the hotel pool.
Of course, the pool was too cold, but the jacuzzi was just perfect.
Well, almost… but no, not quite “perfect.” The hot water felt great on my latex and high heel-tormented body, and we had a blast soaking, playing and splashing around.
But the jets were turned up too high and kept attacking the backs of our heads like a mischievous master sneaking up on us from behind with a massive water gun.
Talk about domination. And this was nonconsensual—though I suppose we could have figured out how to turn the jets down—and just, well, not perfect.
Still, it was so much fun! Even Unscene Abe stripped down to his boxers and jumped into scene to be our hot wet monkey in the middle!
Post-jacuzzi, Max watched cop shows while I tried to wring the chlorine-laced water out of my hair and did my respiratory rituals that help me breathe a little easier in our increasingly toxic atmosphere, especially near the airport with all those giant fossil-fuel burning birds taking off and landing right outside our window.
I couldn’t stomach the cop shows (though they’re a bit better than the Apocalyptic mass-murder-and-mayhem shows), so Max flipped around the channels until we found an intriguing old National Geographic show about the search for Bigfoot, aka the Abominable Snowman—Yeti in the Himalayas, Alnasty in Russia, Orang Pendek in Sumatra, Sasquatch in Oregon or whatever your local people call the giant hairy creature that walks on two feet and leaves large human-like footprints, especially in the snow.
Despite hoaxes galore, mistaken identities and hallucinogenic visions, many villagers and lonely hunters, but also some respected scientists, including one of my idols, the great primatologist Dr. Jane Goodall (whose assistant Christopher Hildrith says she “loved” the Bonobo Way), believe in the real existence of Bigfoot… or Bigfeet. “Maybe they don’t exist,” she admits. “But I want them to.”
Spoiler Alert: the NatGeo show has Dr. Bryan Sykes, a British geneticist, conduct DNA tests on reputed Bigfoot hairs from all over the world. Towards the end of the show and after many commercials, Dr. Sykes maintains that all Bigfeet are just big bears of different kinds, brown bears, grizzlies and even polar bears in Tibet, walking on their hind legs, as bears sometimes do.
It was a bit of a let-down to hear all those Yeti sightings were just upstanding Ursidae, but fun to watch Expedition Wild host and grizzly specialist, Casey Anderson, chat with the hosts about whether Bigfoot is a bear. Although more expeditionist than exhibitionist, Casey guest-stars on our 2012 episode Expedition Gone Wild, playing now on DrSuzy.Tv.
However, even when faced with the genetic evidence, the Bigfoot believers still believe that Bigfoot is “more” than a bear, that he or she is a giant, very intelligent, shy, lonely and somewhat lost primate, a sort of “missing link” between humans and apes that’s somewhere “out there” in the woods, but hikes through the snow every so often to freak out the local humans.
I tend to go for science, and while I also respect ancient folklore, I’m pretty sure Bigfoot does not exist… though you never know! One thing is clear: though people are very much afraid of Bigfoot, they have never reported him or her killing anyone. So, Bigfoot, myth or reality, sounds very bonobo. Of course, unlike bears who tend to be solitary creatures, real bonobos wouldn’t survive alone without a beloved community, and they tend to be no more than five feet tall, but they do walk on two feet fairly often. And looking into a bonobo’s eyes, you might very well feel that you are seeing a living version of the missing link.
With that in mind, the Captain and I had a little quick but lovely and orgasmic sex, more like mutual masturbation really (Merry Masturbation Month!), and then off we drifted into Bigfoot bonobo dreamland.
Speaking of real bonobos, they’re highly endangered, and if you want to keep them from going extinct, donate to Lola ya Bonobo, Bonobo Conservation Initiative and/or The Bonobo Project. They’re not Bigfoot, but if we can save them, they may help us save ourselves from ecocide.
If you’re on the hunt for Bigfoot, well, good luck!
As usual, Sunday was a fairly low-key day at DomCon.
Latex was on parade, but not so much and not so fancy.