2009 Keynote: Laura Antoniou
You Must Be This Tall to Ride This Ride
Master/slave Conference 2009
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Good evening fellow perverts, and thank you, Master Taino, for finally realizing that keynote speeches do not sound good at 9AM after a weekend of dungeon parties. The only thing that sounds good at 9AM after a weekend of dungeon parties is, Oh my God you are fabulous,
followed by more sleeping.
When I was invited to give the keynote here, my first thought was, Why do people invite me to these things any more?
You know I am not going to stick to your subject. You know I am going to say unflattering things. And what's worse is that while I am saying unflattering things, hopefully somewhat softened with humor, there are some of you out there who still haven't realized that yeah, I was talking about you.
But ultimately, I said yes because let's face it. For better and worse, you ARE my people. And vice versa, you are not getting rid of me any time soon. And when I say my people, I mean, this is the population that I care most about. Not because you read my books; believe me, the vast majority of people who have read my books probably rarely actually do SM, let alone identify with a power dynamic. It's because you inspire my writing; you inform it, you challenge it, you make it possible.
The Community Connection
That is, ultimately, what a community is. A wealth of information and stories, comfort in times of hardship, the ability to celebrate who we are. So when this segment of the community calls, I am slightly more inclined to answer. (And slightly more than inclined to offer discounts, dammit.)
This all started earlier this year, in Edmonton. Edmonton is a wonderful place, full of seriously fucked up people. I mean it. When I do my discussion on unspeakable, forbidden fantasies, I have found there are generally regional favorites:
- Southeast:
gang raped by black men
is by far the most popular
- Midwest:
until nearly dead
is a common factor
- Edmonton: Well, these folks have a deep and abiding affection for a great deal of fur. Attached to big dogs
So, there I was having a lovely time at Lupercalia, and I found myself in the company of a gentleman you all know, Master Skip. (Hi, Skip!)
The Conversation That Started It All
I'm sitting with Master Skip on stage for a Q&A session, and at one point, Skip said to me, sotto voce, something like how we need to stick together, we perverts who are into the whole D/s thing. Because, he said, the rest of the community would drop us or betray us at the drop of a hat. That the more mainstream SMers didn't understand us, witness their lists of how can you tell if this is an abusive relationship?
pamphlets and such.
Now, I didn't actually respond to him then, because really? He was dressed like a lesbian. They lost his luggage, you see, and he was wearing a plaid flannel shirt. And I was having way too much fun playing dress up the Ken dolls
in my mind and imagining slave rick in a corset.
But I did reflect on what he said for quite some time.
The Mainstream SM Community
One of the things I pondered was the very idea of the mainstream SM community.
Personally, I don't think we are quite there yet. I think we'll know that there is a mainstream SM community when we start seeing social groups with SM minority sub groups. You know, how the gays started going mainstream with organizations like the Stonewall Democrats, the lesbians for Patsy Cline, the Cocksuckers for Christ. When we see Kinky People's Fly Fishing and Quilting Society, then I'd say we have a mainstream community.
The Problem with Extremism as Virtue
So, taking Master Skip's words, I looked at our world as different sub communities:
- Those who only use SM for foreplay
- Sensation players
- Those who roleplay
- Those who find the best time to get their SM freak on is the weekend
- Those who say they live it 24/7 and only do it on the weekend
- Those who say they do it 24/7 and do it whenever the kids are asleep
- Those who say they do it 24/7 and actually might be doing that
And I thought more about whether what he said was true. Would, say, a group of sensation players actually point fingers at us and say, hey, they're the ones who need help. We're just a bunch of bi-poly-genderqueer-hedonists throwing a party. THEY actually do really bad stuff.
And I have come to the conclusion that yes, they might. And at the same time, I came to the conclusion that I don't fucking blame them.
The Lying Problem
It was four years ago when I addressed the Southplains Leatherfest and brought up the simple fact that far too many of us were either hiding, lying or endowing ourselves with grandiose titles and questionable histories. Look around you this weekend and listen to how many people talk about honesty, openness, truth, respect, honor, and all those lovely qualities a good person might aspire to, or admire in others. And yet, at the same time, we have a huge contingent of titled people with unlikely names who have had the most amazing experiences in a scene no one living can verify.
And let me be clear – it's us. You won't find too many sensation players boasting about the secret society where they learned Florentine flogging, or how this riding crop – $4.95 at the Agway – was passed down to them by their master, sadly deceased, along with anyone who knew him.
And I mean it about the high death rate among SMers of the D/s flavor. When I first came out, people would say they were trained by Master Marcel the Merciless who, sadly, has returned to France. These days, since we can look up Master Marcel online, people telling the stories of their impressive lineage all seem to have lost their trainer, previous owner, whatever, in a tragic bus accident.
You Must Be This Tall to Ride This Ride
When we, as adults, make a conscious decision to engage in SM relationships and tell other people about it, we have passed the kiddie corner of the scene – otherwise known as the anonymous online community – and are stepping up to something that has the potential to shoot you out of a tunnel at 60 miles an hour and turn you upside down six times – and then do it backwards.
In other words, my friends, you must be this tall to ride this ride.
On No Safewords
If you come out and tell people that you have no limits at all, than you must accept the fact that people will think you are courting incredible potential for harm an idiot.
When people say things like no safewords – and that is something I pretty much live by, seeing as I speak fluent English and am fairly sure I can manage to say, Fuck, my wrist just snapped!
without needing to come up with a color first – there will always be people who say, Oooh, that's dangerous, how will your subbie let you know something is wrong?
To which the answer is, a safeword is a tool designed for novices, strangers and people who like to get into role when they play. But a bottom who knows their limits, knows their top and can speak in the same language the top understands – they don't NEED a safeword. Besides, I note that the final safeword is always, When you untie me I am calling the police/my lawyer/Jerry Springer and/or your mother.
On No Limits
The answer to no limits is trickier. But there is a huge truth here that our more romantic or extreme D/sers almost never say, and habibi, we should start saying it.
Of course there are limits. Don't be obtuse. The first for instance
that comes out of anyone's mouth usually involves amputation, am I right? Oh, yeah? What if your mistress wanted to chop your ding dong off, huh?
See, the answer to that is NOT I would do it and hate it.
The real answer is that when we form deeply intimate bonds based on mutual respect, attraction, esteem and trust, we pre-select for matching values.
A bottom who says they have no limits, assuming they are not a complete idiot on collarme.com, but say a bottom in a relationship right now, looking adoringly at their top, is saying, in effect: I trust this person so much that I know they would never tell me to sell my children into sexual slavery/donate my brain to science – tomorrow/ tell me to watch Glenn Beck for 24 hours straight.
This isn't no limits. It's pretty close to matching limits.
Stop Trying to Impress the Hot Dog Vendor
When you paint your relationship as the be all and end all, the hardest kind to maintain, the smallest population inside a small population, when you beat your breasts declaiming how so few people can do what YOU do and do it right, and no one understands how your true, complete, total, 24/7, Euro-gorean, olde guarde way is soooo unique and rare and by the way, not for everyone...
Step up to the measuring tape, my friend. Are you tall enough? Then get on the fucking ride and stop trying to impress the hot dog vendor.
Will a general guide to abusive relationships sound suspiciously like some things you do? Of course it will, where do you think I get my ideas? Especially when the Amnesty International report is late.
But when you read one of those helpful lists, you have two choices: you either are abusing someone, or, you have chosen a partner who shares your values, and therefore what you are doing is fine. You should not be threatened by the fact that some of the things we do will always look or sound abusive to someone outside.
The Real Danger Outside
We cannot afford to think we are being victimized by other people in the scene. There will always be those who don't understand, don't like, or are completely disinterested in anything we do. But we cannot let those closest to us distract us from the very real danger outside the scene.
We are right now on the cusp of a change in our visibility. For years now, we have met in nice hotels and conference centers. We make playspaces in commercial buildings and actually have the legal right to use them. Google us and we are found.
At the same time, the gay community is moving slowly but surely toward a more full enfranchisement into common culture. And already, the extreme right anti-sex brigade has already begun, through their more wacko members, to cast their eyes on us.
The Maine Example
The Maine Family Council is using the murder or accidental death of Fred Wilson, a twenty-one year old computer specialist who lived in South Portland as a reason to derail the fight for marriage equality there. Why?
Because Fred Wilson was a supporter of the Leather Archives. That's it. No, he wasn't found tied up in a dungeon, no, there was nothing in the police report that even suggested he ever did SM.
Right now, there is only one man who spends most of his time actually following us around to leather events and pointing out how wickedly hot we are, and that's Peter LaBarbara of the laughingly named Americans for Truth About Homosexuality. But as it slowly becomes less popular to go around claiming the homos are a danger to life, liberty and happiness, they will be coming for us.
Learning from Jack McGeorge
We would all do well to consider the words of the man we are remembering and honoring this weekend: I am who I am. I am not ashamed of who I am – not one bit.
Jack McGeorge wasn't happy about his non consensual outing by the Washington Post. But you can't deny that when he got on the ride, he was in the first fucking car, waving his arms in the air and screeeeeaming all the way down.
When we are unashamed, when we have left behind a ton of self doubt, when we are ready to hand over the ticket, we can't do much better than be a little like Jack, who laughed when I teased him about the ODS lifestyle. (ODS? Odious? Jack, what were you thinking?) Jack never turned down a chance to teach or listen, even after he had every reason to go into hiding and keep a low profile.
In Conclusion
So, let there be good sensible guidelines for people to learn from; it will never hurt us for someone who might actually be abused to become aware that the community will not think ill of her for leaving. Let there be plenty of room for discussion, plenty of books and panels and parties and conferences.
Because even when there are times when we don't understand or like each other, we're all we got.
This keynote speech was delivered at the Master/slave Conference in 2009 by Laura Antoniou, addressing authenticity, extremism, and the need for honesty within the M/s community while warning of external threats to come.