It’s time for 2009, and the bill collector’s on the line, reminding us America is in the hole, deep, so deep, it would be really hot if we were talking about sex. But we’re not, we’re talking about debt. The Bush Crime Family and their extended clan of billionaire bullies, military fetishists and closet case thieves have systemically looted our Land of Plenty. America’s biggest growth industry is now the U.S. Prison System where we are locking up way too many innocent folks just so other folks – deputies, bus drivers, cashiers, district attorneys, judges – can stay employed.

Okay, let’s get personal. As I write this, my darling Prince Max is being held hostage in a Medieval Tower on a “Failure to Appear” for charges that were dismissed. I kid you not: one million dollars bail! It’s an unbelievable-but-true tale of one heroic but hapless political prisoner caught in the sticky web of the LA justice system. I’ll reveal the full Kafkaesque nightmare once he’s out of immediate danger, which should be very soon, but not soon enough. If you feel you can help Free Max Now, e-mail FreeMax@blockbooks.com, and maybe I’ll tell you the whole exciting story.

It’s a lousy situation, along with a dreadful prognosis for our justice system, our economy and our souls…

And yet, I have hope.

Yes indeed, Brothers & Sisters, Lovers & Sinners, “hope” is the new black.

I have hope against hope that 2009 is the time for a new era of peace-through-pleasure politics and an end to lawless militarism in America and around the world.

Or, if not an end, at least a change. Change is good enough for now, after eight years of the same old warmongering, thievery, anti-sex miseducation and wrongful imprisonment. We’re going to have a new president and a new attitude. Woohoo! As every sexpert worth her dildos knows, novelty is one of the greatest aphrodisiacs. The fact that the new prez looks damn good without a shirt on doesn’t hurt either.

So, here at the Speakeasy — in the midst of all our melodrama – we’re going to celebrate the stimulating, titillating power of novelty, change, hope and shirtlessness with an “Orgy for Obama” Inaugural Ball on our 10th annual Eros Day, January 24, 2009. Make your reservations now to attend in person, or sign up to watch it online. Proceeds will go to help save the bonobos from extinction AND Max from prison.

It’s been a few months since we held a big bacchanal here at the Speakeasy. And in many ways we’re so not ready for this one. But in other ways, we so are.

Sinnamon Love returns to the Speakeasy for Eros Day X!

We are hungry for communal ecstasy, a desire that can only be satisfied by a good old-fashioned orgy.

Eros The Planetoid

Moreover, it’s our 10th anniversary of celebrating Eros, a great and powerful God according to classical mythology, and a little phallic planetoid according to modern astronomy, as well as the “Spirit of Eros” – the idea of passionate love and peace through pleasure.

Here at the Speakeasy, rain or shine, in Twin Towers or the Eiffel Tower, we celebrate Eros Day every year on the fourth Saturday night of January when the planetoid 433-EROS spins closest to Earth. Ancient Greek festivals of Eros date back to 1800 BCE, and you can read more about the history, mythology and astronomy of Eros Day on my original Eros Pages and blog archives. In the 1990’s, my old friend Lasse Braun originated the modern holiday of Eros Day and passed it along to me, whereupon I began hosting annual celebrations, drawing hundreds of participants from around the world and thousands more online.

If you can’t join us in person, you can always celebrate Eros Day wherever you are. If you need to get into the Eros Day Spirit, check out RadioSuzy1TV where we are now showing back-to-front Eros Days going back to the turn of the 21st century, including Eros Day Balls (featuring our famous Eros Day Counter-Inaugural Ball in ’05), Carnivals, Passion Plays, Parades, Orgies and Extravaganzas on RadioSuzy1TV.

Like Eros Days past, Eros Day will feature a panoply of porn stars, professors and politicians, singers, swingers and the couple-next-door…

Regan Reese returns to the Speakeasy for Eros Day X!

all decked out in togas, lingerie, fetish gear, formal wear or nothing at all.

Featured sponsors of Eros Day X include The Broken Door LA, Doc Johnson, PoleDanzer and Condomania, with Agwa Coca Leaf Liqueur, Agavero Tequila Liqueur, Absente Absinthe, Magellan Gin, Rhum Barbancour and other fine beverages served at the Speakeasy Open Bar. Good viewing! Join us for Eros Day X: The Orgy for Obama Inaugural Ball…

Come one, come all or just come….

Hopefully, Prince Max will come too! In fact, there’s a good chance we’ll unravel this mess any moment now. Of course, one thing we’ve learned in the justice system is that justice is maddeningly elusive. But we can hope…

And we can celebrate. Because at least he’s alive, and so are we, and that brings me to the next section of what looks like another one of my decadently endless bloggamies…

Deaths of Beloved People & Things

Winter is a time of cold, darkness and, all too often, death. This is one of the reasons that we have so many festivals of light (Hanukkah), warmth (Xmas), excitement (New Year’s), sex (Eros Day) and romance (Valentine’s Day) in winter.

We do our best to create a little heat to chase those Winter Blues away. But the Winter Blues and the chilly-fisted pull of Thanatos are often more powerful than mere humans can withstand. And so we mourn the deaths of a few of marvelous people and things…

RIP Bettie Page

The world lost one of its greatest lovers when Bettie Page died a few weeks ago. Bettie Page may not have been the greatest lover, let alone wife, in “real life,” having been through a string of painful marriages and relationships. But she was the greatest lover the camera has ever known, and thus an incomparable lover of the world, her audience: you and me.

Bettie Page was the Queen of Pin-Up, Queen of Fetish, Queen of the Jungle and Queen of our Hearts. Like so many people, I was inspired by pictures of Bettie’s cheerful mischievous face even before I knew who she was. I was honored to be chosen by Bettie herself to do her first live on-air interview on my RadioSuzy1TV show back in September, 1996. When Bettie complimented my “sexy voice” with her deep Southern drawl, I felt that I had been blessed by the Goddess of Sex Herself.

It was and still is Bettie’s longest, most in-depth interview ever. Featuring vintage film and photos of Bettie in her prime, accompanied by the voice of Bettie Page herself, she talks with me about all different aspects of her extraordinary, legendary and ultra-mysterious life. You can get the Bettie Page Download Here, and you can hear excerpts from our interview (as well as see an 18-year-old Dita Von Teese as a Bettie Page “lookalike”) in our wild wet holiday festival of fetish Dommes & Hollie.

After being hounded and humiliated by U.S. Senator Estes Kefauver from Bettie’s native state of Tennessee and other governmental hypocrites, Bettie left modeling and became a devout Born-Again Christian. When I asked her how she reconciled her faith with her naked past, she said she didn’t believe God disapproves of nudity, or why would He have created Adam and Eve naked in the Garden of Eden?

Bettie had a way of making the kinkiest sex seem wholesome, given to us by God. And then again, maybe it is. Thank you, God, for giving us Bettie Page.

RIP Wallace Jackson, aka Wallace Dorian, aka Wallace Ketchedorian

It didn’t feel real, seeing Wallace lying in a coffin, awkwardly embalmed, face bizarrely wrinkle-free, body covered with carnations, spirit being serenaded by Hare Krishna devotees. It felt like another scene in our movie, Canaan Brumley’s semi-fictional film within a documentary about the Speakeasy, where Wallace plays (or is that “played”?) an old washed up director in search of erotic meaning in his life. Wallace come to us to make a movie he never makes and struggled against our peace-through-pleasure philosophy while attempting to get laid, trying and failing to kill himself several times in the process.

Once, I found Wallace sprawled on my mother’s couch in my office with an Eiffel Tower-shaped paper cutter stuck in his chest, dark red liquid oozing through his light blue shirt. I was so mesmerized by the sight of him, I forgot I was acting in a movie, and when I picked up the phone, I called 911 for real! “There’s a man on my couch with a knife in his chest!” I blurted. When real 911 operator said “Where are you?” I realized my mistake and, like an idiot, hung up. Then I called right back and tried to cancel the other call, but it was too late. Within nano-seconds, a helicopter was buzzing over our roof, and over a dozen hyped and brawny police and firemen were at our door, ready to wreak havoc upon our dildos. Somehow, I stopped them in their tracks, shaking in my hat and high heels, as I explained that I was just a very ditzy actress who momentarily forgot that my fellow actor Wallace wasn’t really dead.

Stopping at the farmacia with Sara Sioux before braving Wallace’s funeral Photo: Canaan Brumley

This time, he was really dead. Apparently, he had a heart attack while driving off the set of another movie, and then he smashed into an embankment; so in a way, he died twice. Though his death was real, the funeral was surreal. At the Speakeasy, we knew a different side of Wallace than the eulogies presenting him as a model father, devoted husband and reliable drinking buddy. Even I got up there and managed to talk for five minutes about Wallace without saying he was anything worse than “maddening.” Doubly bizarre was not hearing anyone acknowledge how he smoked Wildhorse cigarettes and whatever else he could get his hands on like a French chimney, though that might have had something to do with the heart attack. Sara and I did puff a couple Marlboros outside the church in loving memory of the Wallace we knew and would never forget, the Wallace that Canaan’s Speakeasy movie will soon immortalize. Max had asked me to toss a pack in the coffin from him, and I was tempted. But the open casket was a little scary, and I didn’t want to be pelted with rotten carnations by outraged Krishnavites, so I refrained.

Later that night, we lit the first candles of Hanukkah, both of us wearing tallit, Sara in my brother’s old yarmulke. We said a prayer, whistled Adam Sandler’s “Hanukkah Song” and smoked another cig in memory of Wallace Jackson.

RIP Public Access

Los Angeles Public Access TV is being strangled to death. No, this is not an asphyxiation fetish gone tragically awry. This is pure premeditated murder. The murderer is Time Warner, aided and abetted by Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, the California State Assembly, the LA City Council and AT&T. The victims are We the People, the cable TV viewers of LA.

Apparently, back in 2006, when We the People weren’t looking, former Southern California State Assembly Leader Fabian Nunez and Lloyd Levine stealthily pushed through legislation for AT&T, and got Governor Schwarzenegger to sign it, sparking the fire that is now incinerating Public Access in LA. The new law allows cable companies like Time Warner to opt out of providing public channels or studio facilities by paying local governments a 2% cable franchise fee, instituting a “State Franchise Agreement” that is overseen by the California Public Utilities Commission. This dastardly new law negates the 1984 Federal Communications Act, an important piece of bi-partisan legislation that mandated public access to cable channels to counterbalance the dominance of corporate and government-funded cable channels with something created by and for “the people.”

For over 25 years, Public Access has been the bone that the cable companies have had to throw to us “people” in exchange for having the opportunity to make a mint off of us people and our neighbors through all the other channels. It’s a bare bone, but it’s something. For over 25 years, anyone could walk into a Public Access station in their community and “put on a show” – any kind of show they wanted – that their neighbors could see. Not many bothered to do this, of course, but some did (like yours truly), and the opportunity for all was there. The new law wipes out that opportunity. The cable companies and the government will have complete control of all cable channels in LA. And if they can get away with it in LA, they’ll do it all over the state, and then all over the country. That means no more bones, and (with my show off the air) no more commercial-free boners. No more public access. No more you and me making our own TV.

I’ve been on public access in LA since 1992. I’ve seen folksy hypocrites like John Rigas of Adelphia take over and try to censor public access even as he was cheating his subscribers and defrauding his stockholders, and then get forced out in disgrace and sent to prison. Over the years, Public Access has produced a lot of eccentric and downright bizarre examples of television, but that’s part of its charm. It has also featured some excellent, highly regarded shows, such as Emmy-winning public affairs program Full Disclosure hosted by Leslie Dutton, as well as David Hernandez and Zuma Dogg. Despite this fine company, I’ve been told by several So Cali journalists and cable administrators that The Dr. Susan Block Show is (or do I now have to say “was”?) the most popular show on Public Access. Maybe it’s just because of the sex, or maybe it’s the love. Whatever it is – or was – I am deeply honored by this claim to fame, and I’ve long felt a great responsibility to provide what I consider the best in sex educational television to my Public Access viewership.

Even as this cold, methodical, seemingly unstoppable strangulation of Public Access takes place, many are still fighting for its life. A bunch of us Public Access producers, plus prominent supporters like Stanley Sheinbaum and four-time Emmy-winning creator of “America’s Funniest Home Videos” Vin Di Bona, denounced the closings in City Hall, pleading with the LA City Council to “do something” to prevent the utter silencing of the People’s Voice, all of it covered by The LA Weekly and LA Times.

Ed Asner called upon California Attorney General Jerry Brown to stand up for Public Access, as he took a stand against Proposition 8. The LA City Council, whipped into minimal action by former Public Access producer and current Councilman Bill Rosendahl, has promised to earmark some time on one of its channels to Public Access, though that hardly replaces the current 14 Public Access channels across LA County. Moreover, if this one channel is controlled by the City, it will surely be censored in ways that Public Access has never been and should never be. Some shows will be rejected for political reasons or matters of “taste.” And it’s highly doubtful that a sexuality show like mine would be given equal access.

With photographer Orly Olivier after shooting the photo that wound up on the LA Weekly title page

Of course, there is no sexuality show like mine! Public access by its very nature fosters uniqueness. And yes, you can watch some of my shows on YouTube, Facebook, BonoboWay and other sites – and you can see them raw and unedited when you Join Backstage. Internet availability is often touted as a reason we don’t *need* Public Access. But the Internet is not TV. They are different, non-interchangeable media with different audiences. Many of my most loyal Public Access TV viewers don’t even have high-speed Internet access. I talk to these people every Saturday night when they call me live on RadioSuzy1, and they’re watching me on Public Access, looking for answers to their sex questions, or maybe just looking for a little non-corporate-sponsored, non-government-controlled love. These are, by and large, lower income people whose precious public channels are being murdered in cold blood by callous politicians and greedy corporations.

LA Public Access has been good to me. It’s never made me any money, at least not directly. In fact, it’s cost me a bundle. But it’s given me a lot of affection and connection to my neighbors, my viewers. I’m sad to see it go, like a special lover who never took me out to fancy places, but was true to me and always gave me lots of love until the end.

Click here to register your support for Public Access TV in LA.

Death or no death in LA, The Dr. Susan Block Show is still alive and airing three times a week on Berkeley Public Access TV, without censorship, sponsored by the amazing Frank Moore.

RadioSuzy1 News & Booze

Despite missing Max, RadioSuzy1 is doing some awesome live shows, including an uber-hot one on bisexual gangbangs with Angelwylde and Lunasea of BonoboWay…

and an oh-so-naughty one on cougar hunts, Russian sex and wild mother-daughter porn with Porn Star Veronica Vaughn, soon-to-be a webcam and phone sex therapist with the Institute.

And then there are our secret favorite shows, where we just talk to each other about ourselves. Coming soon to RadioSuzy1: Love Junkie author and fellow badass Yalie Rachel Resnick.

Speakeasy Legal Victories

Though I have been consistently frustrated in my efforts to free Prince Max, I have experienced triumph in some of my other recent courthouse adventures. Lately, I’ve been hired by an attorney in the LA Alternative Public Defenders’ office as an expert witness in so-called “sex crimes,” and I helped him to win the first case and get a hung jury in the second. The lawyer is ecstatic, as are the defendants, so it looks like I have an active second (or is that 22nd?) career as an expert witness.

Then I won a case of my own where a former independent contractor whom I will refer to as “The Pig,” sued me for locking her up as well as locking her out. Neither accusation was true, of course, nor did either make any sense. I have shackled a lot of people to the Bondage Cross, but it’s all consensual. This was the first time that I was being accused of being an amateur jailer. It was aggravating and stressful to have to defend myself, but with the help of a couple of my own expert witnesses, I beat the Pig – not literally, darlings. But in the courtroom, well, let’s just say she was roasted.

The Speakeasy Legal Team of Block, Lobkowicz, Robertson & Villareal relax between case loads @ The Regent Beverly Wilshire Hotel (Lobkowicz not present)

I would hate to be a lawyer. Suiting up at 7 am every day, driving through rush-hour to fight against people who lie under oath in a sleazy courthouse is not my idea of good living. But my Daddy was a lawyer, and my Mom always wanted me to be a lawyer, and I guess it’s in my blood. Whatever the reason, I find myself in and out of courtroom a fair amount. Max’s case is very painful and nothing goes the way I think it should. But I’m pretty good at winning settlements (remember my win against the LAPD?), as well as helping other people to win their cases. So if any of you attorneys out there need a good sexologist on your team, give me a call at 213.749.1330. Maybe I can help.

AMRITA

Block Films is pleased to announce another new release: AMRITA, Dr. Suzy & Doctor G Demonstrate the Art and Passion of the G-Spot and Female Ejaculation.

Explore the mysterious but powerful G-Spot with world renowned expert Dr. Gary “Doctor G” Schubach and me. In the past, we’ve brought you the Sundahl Method of G-Spot Female Ejaculation, the Braun Method and the Body Method. Now you can learn the Schubach Method of G-Spot Female Ejaculation as Doctor G calls forth the Holy Water from his ejaculatrix Amrita on The Dr. Susan Block Show.

Squirt in the New Year! It’s Holy Water! Collect all the hot Block Institute Female Ejaculation DVDs and downloads!

Follow Me on Twitter

There’s a lot more to blog about, but well, who has the time? With a husband to free, an Institute to operate, a Speakeasy to support and an Eros Day X Orgy for Obama Inaugural Ball to plan, I’ve got my hands — and vagina — full. So: no time for bloggamy. And this is the purpose of Twitter – faster and a thousand times easier than blogging, it helps you and me to keep in touch. So follow me on Twitter, and I just might follow you.

Twitters from Twin Towers

And follow Prince Max’s Twitters from the The Towers! A riveting and important view of our criminal justice system from the inside!