I hope that those of you who celebrated Thanksgiving had enough turkey and trimmings to feed most (but surely not all) your appetites. I spent much of the past couple of weeks traveling, and found myself bombarded, from south to north and back again, by noxious ads for tacky gifts and perky reports about local shopping malls where parents were grimly lining up, ready to stomp on anyone who stood between them and a Furby.

You have to love a country where a big-haired doll can become a national fetish (and, no, no, I'm don't mean Monica).

Among the many different questions I ask myself at this time of the year is: how come it's perfectly acceptable to scratch out the eyes of people at the mall to buy a Teletubby, but if you sleep on a latex sheet at home you're considered weird?

I'm sure the philosophers among you will have an answer for me.

On a more somber note, and as I mentioned in my last column here, I spent Thanksgiving with my parents this year. My dad has Alzheimer's, complicated by mini-strokes, and further complicated by Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and probably complicated even further by a history of emotional instability.

My mother and sister had prepared me well, but I guess nothing can ever completely prepare a person for the sight of a parent who is mentally unraveling.

When my mom opened her door, my dad peering nervously over her shoulder, I hesitated momentarily, wondering whether he'd know who I was. But he did not hesitate: he hugged me and called me by name. That moment made the whole trip to New York worthwhile. And, for the rest of that night, he mustered enough strength to chat and laugh and walk the dog with us. Not everything he said made sense, and some of it was truly bizarre, but for the most part he was my dad as I remembered him.

That began to change by the next day. His thought patterns grew increasingly erratic, the short memory lapses turned into seas of oblivion, and his bizarre antics--which initially seemed almost humorous and entirely harmless--took on a dark and dangerous air. He has so many different symptoms that he's a three-ring circus of neurological and psychiatric disorders--he's paranoid, obsessive-compulsive, delusional, aphasic, disoriented, suicidal and more.

On Thanksgiving day, my mother woke me with panicky cries, and I stumbled hurriedly into the kitchen. My father was having one of those "bad days" she had whispered to me about on the phone. He stood trembling in the kitchen where he had eaten most of his meals for the past twenty-five years. He was completely lost. He was nearly in tears. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know who he was. He didn't recognize my mother or me. He moaned over and over again, "I want to go home," and couldn't be consoled by our assurances that he was home. If anything, and I understand this now, it only made him more frantic.

I can only imagine the fear he must have felt then, to be told by two total strangers who claimed to be his wife and daughter, that the hostile, unfamiliar place he found himself in was in fact his home. At that point, he surrendered to terrified despair. And, of all the disturbing things I saw, nothing affected me quite as much as seeing my father, hunched over the kitchen table, his face in his hands, suffering like that and muttering over and over, "I want to die."

It's been hard to think about anything else. But there is one bit of good news. My sister and I finally managed to get my mother to agree to letting a doctor prescribe a bunch of new medications, including sedatives. What we're praying for now is not a cure or a turn-around--we know that won't happen. But if the drugs can alleviate my father's anguish, that will be a blessing to us all. My mother--his wife of 55 years--is suffering almost as much.

So that was my Thanksgiving. It will, in all likelihood, be the last time my father recognizes me. It may, in fact, be the last time we see each other at all in this life.

Despite that, it wasn't all bad. For the first time in many years, the family was united, not just by duty but by genuine devotion. Perhaps partly because my father was behaving so badly, we all behaved especially well. There was a lot of love and kindness at the Thanksgiving table that day, and it made the spirit of the holiday come alive.

My dog Bobo came along on this trip to meet my family for the first time and, I hoped, to serve as a kind of loving therapy for my aging parents. A very sentient beast, Bobo seemed to sense that this was a momentous family occasion. He turned up his strange doggie charm and entertained everyone including--to my great delight--my father, who petted him a few times.

Why do such simple sights move us at these desperate moments? I don't know. It's all part of the mystery, I guess.

Happy Chanukah, y'all. This holiday celebrates the miracle which gave our Jewish ancestors enough oil to keep the lights burning during their darkest hours.

For those of you who get into the Jewish holiday spirit, don't spin that dreidl too hard, and, bitte zayer, give the children a chance to play with it too.

...to those of you who have written me tender letters of sympathy about my dad's illness. Thank you for sharing your stories and offering your prayers. I am very blessed to lead a life which allows me contact with people like you.

I am doing okay. In some respects, I was always prepared for some tragic outcome to the damages my parents suffered during World War II. Children of Holocaust survivors grow up with a keen awareness of their parents' emotional fragility.

I mentioned in last week's column that one of the complications of my father's struggle with Alzheimer's is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He is having flashbacks to the war. He has become so paranoid about life outside the shtetl that is his house, that the instant my mother steps outside the door, he is frantic with fear that she will be shot by "them."

The mysterious "them" now occupy a powerful place in my father's emotional life. Sometimes they are familiars--various relatives who were killed (both my parents lost their entire families); sometimes they are enemies. He seems to have troubled relationships with them, just as he's had troubled relationships with us. They talk to him. Sometimes he answers the ghosts aloud, much to the confusion of the real people around him.

Perhaps it isn't fair to call the living people the "real" ones. For my father, the dead are alive and, at moments, the living don't exist. Who am I to say which group is really real? To him, the dead and the living, the real and the unreal, are equal competitors for his attention. All I can do is try to imagine what it would be like if all the ghosts of my past returned, full-blooded and in the flesh, to accompany me on the road to death. I think I would be scared too.

Over the years, people have occasionally asked whether I think that being the child of Holocaust survivors has made me a sadomasochist. Perhaps they imagine that I dwelled erotically over images of gore and concentration camps as a child. I didn't. I knew too much about it to find it erotic.

I knew plenty of survivors' kids who did get obsessed. One girlfriend used to play "Barbie Goes to Concentration Camp." She tortured her dolls, and even hung them. She, however, grew up to be a nice, normal lesbian, and not a bona fide pervert like me. My ex-husband, whose parents survived Auschwitz (though barely), and who for a time was fascinated by photos of Nazi terror, is as sexually straight as it gets. And so on.

This is not to see I don't see some influences, particularly when it comes to my overall attitude towards life (and thus towards sex). Very little surprises me about people; their dark sides, their potential for cruelty, their masochism, their foibles and frailty...such realities were always a part of my imagination and never frightened me the way they seem to frighten others. So perhaps this helps to explain (at least partly) why I feel comfortable in a dominant role. I am not shocked or off-put by the secrets that people reveal at their most naked and helpless moments. I know that humans are capable of evil, of wrong, of stupidity, of weakness. But we are just as capable of good, of right, of genius, of strength. Those traits exist in us all, whether dominant or submissive or neither or both.

Coup d'Etat

Speaking of good and evil, the Contract With America has finally reached its logical conclusion, with Congress set to vote "aye" on impeachment. Although Congress clearly doesn't give a damn about what Americans think, much less about the fate of our nation, the electoral process, or even the Constitution, expressing your displeasure is not only your right but, at this moment in history, your civic duty. Please take a moment to visit ENOUGH IS ENOUGH and add your name to an important petition which beseeches Congress to do the impossible and come to its senses.

SITE NEWS!

Regular visitors have probably noticed that I am running very late on some features. Sorry about that. The next six weeks will be impossibly hectic for me, but I'll try to update when I can.

Meanwhile, the WINTER BDSM POETRY CONTEST is now officially extending its deadline. That's the bad news. The good news is that you now have MORE TIME TO SUBMIT POETRY ON BDSM THEMES!

Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Joyous Kwanzaa, Blessed Solstice, and a Good Ramadan to friends around the world.

Whatever the differences in our holidays, let us all be united at this time of the year in the spirit of peace and joy. May we work together for a better world through our thoughts and deeds.

As we creep towards year's end, I'd like to express thanks to the many thousands of wonderful people who have contributed something of their own to this site. Whether you shared your feelings with us in SM Perspectives, submitted short stories to the Erotica Contest, entered clever quips for the Kinky Cartoon Caption Contest, left notes in the guestbook, participated in the chats, wrote letters to me, let me know about cool websites for the links catalogue, submitted work to the ezines and other special features here, THANK YOU ALL!. Each little contribution, no matter how small, helps makes this site more diverse and dynamic, more relevant to others' lives. Just knowing that you are out there makes the work worthwhile to me.

You've heard people insincerely say, "I could not do it without you." Well, I probably could have...but I never would have. When I first began planning out this site, in late 1995, I had NO idea it would ever become such a big part of my life, or so massive an enterprise. It is the incredible feedback I've gotten from you that inspires me.

You tell me about your failures and your triumphs. You share your joys and your sorrows, and trust me with secrets you've never dared tell anyone else. You remember me on on holidays, and send greetings on my birthday. You touch my heart and make me feel even more committed to my work.

Please accept my gratitude for the love you've shown me.

Now straighten up and fly right!!

(Well, I had to say SOMETHING stern, after all that sentimental stuff!)

There are a handful of people who deserve special thanks. First, Dutch Master, who has been providing us with hilariously twisted art for the past six months. His good news is our bad news: he has undertaken an important new art project which will keep him all tied up in 1999. Imagine that! (pant!) He will still contribute to this site when his schedule permits, but we are calling an end to the Kinky Caption Contest. Also, unless it turns out that Big Bill screwed yet another intern, the "Sperm-Spangled Banner" will dribble to its final episode soon and then shrink from sight.

Next, I'd like to thank our site's resident legal expert, Rumpoule, for his excellent primer on SM AND THE LAW. It is must reading for all adults engaging in consensual kinky sex. We look forward to possible expansions of that page in 1999.

Finally, my thanks and love to my men--to Will Brame, contributor, collaborator, contest judge, kitchen god, and all-around colleague and companion; to my slave, the one and only (thank goodness) Tinkerbell, my friend, partner, confidante, co-conspirator, happy victim, and all-around worshipful slut (keep up the good work, Tink!); and to Bobo the Magnificent, the best dog that any human could be owned by. Thanks youse guys.

And love to you all during this season of joy! Hope you party like it's 1999!

Sept. 19, 1998

"Do you pray for the senators, Dr. Hale?" "No, I look at the senators and I pray for the country."
--Edward Everett Hale

Is this a great country or what? I can't buy X-rated videos in Georgia, but when the tape of Clinton's grand jury testimony comes out on Monday, I'll get to watch one on national TV! COOL!

"The more you read about politics, you got to admit that each party is worse than the other." --Will Rogers

Most states have sodomy laws that make it illegal to have oral sex. Thank God Washington is filling in the gap by letting us read about it on the Net.

"Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself."--Mark Twain

The men releasing these tawdry details are the ones who oppose sex education in schools. Makes sense. No point spending tax dollars to teach it when kids can learn it from Congress for free.

"It is a pity that more politicians are not bastards by birth instead of vocation." --Katherine Whitehorn

These are the same politicians who tried to enact the CDA.+ Had they succeeded they wouldn't have been able to publish the Starr Report on the Net. WAY COOL!

"I once said of a politician, 'He'll double-cross that bridge when he comes to it."--Oscar Levant

Meanwhile, employment is soaring! Look at all the hypocrites who now fill our airwaves with their worthless opinions! Way to go!

"Don't tell my mother I'm in politics--she thinks I play the piano in a whorehouse." --Anonymous

It's like living in a real live soap opera. Will Hil leave Bill? Is Chelsea going to be okay? Will the GOP, in the interest of full disclosure, let us see Monica's cum-strained dress??

I did NOT have sex with that woman!"-- Prez Bill.

It is touching to see the true face of Congressional Christianity too.

"One has to be a lowbrow, a bit of a murderer, to be a politician, ready and willing to see people sacrificed, slaughtered, for the sake of an idea." --Henry Miller

What a cool example they set for our children. If you or I tried to set it, we'd be crucified.

But coolest of all was Sen. Henry "the homewrecker" Hyde's description of his adultery as a "youthful indiscretion." He was 41 at the time. Clinton was 50. Does this mean when Clinton is old this whole affair will be nothing more than a youthful indiscretion too?

"A politician is someone who realizes you can't fool all of the people all of the time but is willing to give it a try." --Robert Zwickey.

In the beginning, the GOP created Whitewatergate. And Whitewatergate was without subtance, and a sham; and darkness was upon the face of Newt Gingrich. And the Spirit of Sedition moved the Christian right-wing forces in Congress.

And the GOP said, Let there be Travelgate; and there was Travelgate.

And the GOP learned of Vince Foster's death, and that was good; and the GOP divided the country over Filegate.

And the GOP called Paula Jones a sex victim, and Geniflower Flowers they called a sex victim, and tales of the President's sexual escapades triggered a frenzy in the media which knew that sex escapades increase ratings.

And the GOP said, Let's stick Ken Starr up Monica's skirt, and let him divide the nation from its President.

And the GOP made Ken Starr their henchman, and he divided the people who were under the impression that our legislators represent the voters' interests, which were above their own political ambitions; and it was so that we let ourselves be led to the final gate through which we may never return again.

In other words, Ken Starr's spent six years and $40 million on a wild goose-chase and all he's found is a chicken.

Let's get real. When a President can be impeached for lying about a blow job, it IS about sex! When the Constitution and the will of the people are diverted because of religious fervor against adultery, the separation of Church and State is doomed.

SPEAK OUT NOW in defense of the civil liberties granted to us by our republic's founding documents. Tell your local politicians what you think. Go to POLICY.COM's LEGISLATOR LOCATOR and send free email to your elected officials in Washington.

And for sanity's sake, VOTE IN NOVEMBER!! Don't let your disillusionment keep you at home while zealots and loons line up at the polls

THE GOP has grown so delusional that it thinks it can betray the will of the American people while we passively sit by. I say, IMPEACH THE BASTARDS: vote them out of office. Don't let the enemies of sexual freedom destroy our nation.

Aren't I beautiful when I'm angry?

This week, I'm just plain bored with politics. Instead, I thought I'd use this space to talk about the great weekend I spent with family & friends at Love and Leather '98, hosted by Anvil Dungeon International (ADI). It was one of the friendliest SM events I've ever attended--positive energy filled every room. It drew a crowd of about 100 pansexual leather/SM people to Atlanta's Sanctuary, an exceptionally attractive private club and play space.

The weekend was crammed with classes, socials, and special events, including (on Sunday) the marriage of Mistress Sharon and boy michael, two ADI regulars. Joi Wolfwomyn (wolfie), an ordained pagan priest, flew in from San Francisco to officiate at the ceremony. On Friday, wolfie, Master Zulu (ADI's founder and president), plus Will Brame and I co-hosted a charitable auction for the Leather Archives and Museum (LA&M), an historical preservation project of all things leather. Under the superb guidance of leather guru, Joseph Bean, LA&M is raising money to buy a permanent home for its collections, and is doing so literally brick by brick.

ADI's auction goal was $500, the price of a brick in LA&M's fundraising drive. Then out came the auction baskets, filled with tons of toys donated by merchants and ADI members throughout the U.S. The bidding was hot as people snapped up kinky goodies at bargain prices.

I'd rounded up a few contributions too. Race Bannon, of Daedalus Publishing, donated "Consensual SM" and "The Daedalus Anthology of Kinky Verse." Deb Levine, aka Delilah from THRIVE on AOL, donated her new book, "The Joy of Cybersex." Thanks to Race and Deb for helping out! Will and I donated a a rare trade-paper edition of the UK version of Different Loving, which sold for $150!

I also got to auction off free beauty make-overs by my pal, Miss Angel, a genius with brush and blush who specializes in transformations for men and women. By the time all was said and done, ADI raised $2000!

On Saturday--dressed to kill (or at least to spank very very hard)--I read passages from Domina: The Sextopians, while my naked slave sat at my feet. The audience was terrific: their enthusiastic applause made this author's heart sing. Afterwards, they bought copies of Domina at a fast pace, another thing authors love. ;-). Thanks to all for your support and the affection you showed me!

All in all, it was a wonderful weekend and brought home once more the importance of community and of tolerance for people of all sizes, colors, ages, sexual orientations and gender identities. I'd like to personally thank Zulu and his slave, elizabeth, for the hard work they put into this!

If you are in the Atlanta area, you'll have another chance to hear me read later this month. On Tuesday, October 27th, at 8 p.m. OUTWRITE BOOKS (corner Piedmont and 10th), is hosting a booksigning for DOMINA. Drop by, grab a latte, and settle down in their cozy cafe to hear some more steamy selections.

"Sexuality is the lyricism of the masses"--Charles Baudelaire

So I'm in one of those gloomy moods that I am prone to getting into. The only thing worse than being gloomy is being gloomy without good gloomy music playing. Like in movies where the score reaches a crescendo as the protagonist contemplates a gun, so too must I have just the right music to heighten my despair.

So I flip stations and land on a Country & Western channel. Not what I was looking for but someone is wailing about being betrayed. That will do nicely. A few low-rent romantic grievances later, I hear one called, "I Married a Waitress and I Don't Even Know Her Name."

As the fellow recounts his odyssey of mindless lust, first falling in love with a beautiful waitress whose name he doesn't know, then accidentally marrying a toothless one whose name he doesn't know, I get to thinking. Which is always a dangerous thing.

C&W expresses the common reality of ordinary American life. It's filled with cheating hearts and romantic fools. And we love these dysfunctional heroes so much that we laugh, clap, and sing along to their sordid lives.

Which brings me to Bill Clinton. As I see it, the man is a true American icon. He embodies our nation's musical ideals. Indeed, some episodes of his life would make damn good C&W lyrics.

"I Slipped Her A Cigar and I Don't Even Know If It Was Sex."

I don't know: it has a ring to it.

Okay, now onto matters of real import...I've had an evil case of the flu for a couple of weeks, but Dutch Master sent me a bowl of chicken soup and I am all better now.

I hope you're keeping up with all the new stuff that has been added lately, including a splendid round-up of BDSM and the Law by Rumpoule, a practicing criminal defense lawyer. In addition to his great primer on legal concerns for kinky people, he also provides an email address so visitors to this domain can contact him.

I recently added a big bunch of new transcripts to the AOL chat archives, covering dozens of questions and comments about BDSM relationships.

The The Different Loving Erotica Contest just ended. Thanks to all who submitted work! Results will be posted soon.

You'll probably be relieved to know that I don't have time this week to launch any new political rants. But, in case I haven't made it clear enough yet, PLEASE VOTE THIS NOVEMBER!

If ever the folks in Washington needed a kick in the butt from the electorate, this is the year.

Meanwhile, what's been keeping me busy is general work overload. First, I'm still busily promoting my new erotic novel, DOMINA. I will probably be doing some more on-line chats down the road. But if you're in the Atlanta area on Tuesday, October 29, and would like to meet me in person, hop on down to OUTWRITE BOOKS at 8 p.m. I'll be reading excerpts and signing copies of Domina then. And since Will Brame will be there too, you can get both of us to sign copies of Different Loving, which is also on sale at the shop. Outwrite is located at the corner of Piedmont Avenue and 10th Street. The event begins at 8 p.m.

I am also flying to New York City this week to tape "This Evening With Judith Regan," a talkshow on FOX cable tv. I'll be on a panel with Helen Gurley Brown, Elizabeth Wurzel and Jane Pratt, talking about (what else?) sex. The show will be airing this weekend, either Saturday or Sunday night at 10 p.m. (eastern). For details, keep an eye on What's New Around Here: I'll be listing the air date and time when I get back.

Next, I'm VERY happy to announce that, with the able aesthetic assistance of a fellow poet and now official poetry contest judge, RedCrow, gloria-brame.com will at last be hosting a BDSM Poetry Contest. Get all the details on perverse: a poetry chapbook for bdsm lovers and send us your work for consideration.

I also just uploaded a new transcript of the BDSM live-chats on AOL, answering yet more questions on issues of concern to kinky people. Plus, new for the holiday season, tell us what adult toy you'd love to get this year on our sizzling kinky confessions board, SM Perspectives.

Last but never least, our resident kinky cartoonist, Dutch Master, finally TELLS AL. Up A Tree With Dutch Master provides an illuminating look at the artist as a young primate. Yes, it really does get pretty hairy around here sometimes.

Those who deny freedom to others,
deserve it not for themselves.-- Abraham Lincoln

Halloween has gathered up its demons and ghosts, but don't let that hobgoblin of apathy steal your soul!

PLEASE GO TO THE POLLS AND VOTE.

I've made no secret of my politics here, so I'll take this final chance to urge you to use your vote to protest the GOP's weakness in the face of pressure from radical right wing forces. The right wing has launched a religious war on American life and has turned the GOP into the party of hate.

Never before has our country seen so many sore-losers do so much to violate the spirit of democracy. The GOP has been trying to kick the President out of office since his inauguration in 1992. They have tormented him (and us) with ugly spectacles, government shut-downs, and groundless charges.

Their divisive and seditious politics have inflamed Americans to the point where hate crimes--against gays, immigrants, minorities, abortion activists, even Federal employees--have become a commonplace of American life. Can anyone doubt that the mean-spiritedness of certain Republican legislators has created a national paranoia which has spurred militant extremists to violence?

I know that many of you are shamed and disgusted by Mr. Clinton's lie about committing adultery. Whether or not the law recognizes his lie to the grand jury as perjury, it was a sad day for our nation when we saw him admit to the very same pecadillo he had so vociferously denied only weeks earlier. It was a personal betrayal very few of us will ever forget.

That said, it is NOT cause for impeachment, nor is it why the GOP is clamoring for impeachment. The real reason for this impeachment frenzy is exactly what it's been since 1992: the right has simply been furious about losing to Mr. Clinton and has done everything possible to cripple his Presidency. After Filegate, Travelgate, Whitewater, and all the rest, their case for impeachment now rests on his inability to keep his pants zipped and his refusal to admit it. So great is their desperation to justify the hatred they have had for him since his inauguration that they will deliberately ignore the will of the people in order to fulfill their agenda.

Please GET OUT AND VOTE. Vote for America. Vote for a country which respects the will of the people and grants us the privilege of electing the person we like and seeing him serve out his term.

The GOP has become the party of the lawless: it stands silent as men and women who are OBEYING THE LAW by choosing or performing abortions are harassed and murdered. The GOP has become the party of elitism: it ceaselessly works to defeat legislation which benefits minorities. It has become the party of death, protecting tobacco and insurance industry interests while ignoring the sick and elderly. It has become a party which despises those of us who who can't get into their country clubs and are not welcome in their churches.

If you are a Republican, and you're reading this site, chances are you belong to a minority which the GOP would like to squash. Use your vote to let them know that a moderate Republican agenda better represents your interests. Remind your local politicians that Abraham Lincoln was the consummate Republican, not Newt Gingrich.

Please vote. LET THE WORLD KNOW that you still believe in an America founded on tolerance and equality for ALL.

Finally, for the growing number of folks who are gracing me with angry emails, a general comment. Freedom of speech is my right, as it is yours. Instead of composing those long flames to me, create your own website, under your own name, and stand up for what you believe on your site, as I do on mine. If you need help getting started, visit my guide to building a website. Good luck!

We didn't understand that people would frankly just get fed up with the existence of the topic.--Newt Gingrich, referring to the Lewinsky scandal

If Newt didn't understand what Americans were saying in all the polls this year, then whose opinions did he understand? The reactionaries who believe that dictating issues of personal morality is their God-given right? The political consultants who apparently never placed a foot outside of Washington--much less outside their mouths? Or maybe he listened gleefully to two popular talk-show turncoats, George "it's my ego, stupid" Stephanopoulos and Dick "the dick" Morris who, for months, forecast that Clinton would be out of the White House before the elections even occurred.

For months before the election, Americans said--on tv, in polls, on the Net--that they were tired of the emphasis on the sex scandal and revolted by the public disclosures of graphic details. How is it that the Speaker of the House--in effect, the person who speaks for the people who speak for us--didn't have a clue what we think?

It reminds me of Newt's confession, when he published his "kinder gentler" autobiography some months back, that he hadn't noticed that he'd gained 100 pounds until someone mentioned it to him.

Denial is an ugly thing.

Pundits and politicians will viciously quabble over this election's results until 2000. But polls have already amply shown that Americans don't want to see Clinton kicked out of office. It's a moot point, and should be a dead issue in Congress.

If any message is to be construed from this election, it's this: Americans are sick of hypocrisy.

New York's Alphonse D'Amato's loss is a good example. I've heard it suggested that his opponent, Charles Schumer, won because of a swing in the Jewish vote (using the conventional political wisdom that an ethnic group always votes for "one of its own"). The other theory is that it was a way of showing support for Clinton.

Did Jews tend to vote more for Schumer? Yes. And did African-Americans and Asians and Hispanics and women tend to vote more Democrat than Republican? Yes. But perhaps the reason they did has little to do with whether they like Clinton, and even less to do with their race or gender. Perhaps they were just tired of hypocrites pointing fingers at other hypocrites, and of infantile political debates. Watching campaign ads this year was like watching playground fights:

"You stink!"

"No, YOU stink!"

"Do not! You're the stinker!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Yeah, well your mother wears army boots!"

Those who've followed D'Amato's career know that he's a crude, sleazy guy who has repeatedly been investigated for wrong-doings. When he donned the mantle of moral authority to embark on a crusade against Clinton, it was the last straw. New Yorkers will put up with a lot of political hanky-panky, but put on airs and try to con them, and you're history.

Or look at another race, where a politician who vociferously supports campaign finance reform had the courage to limit his own campaign spending. For weeks, the talking heads on TV chuckled dismissively at his folly, and predicted his money-squandering opponent would win. And, my, how surprised everyone seemed when the man who put his career on the line by sticking to his convictions won.

It's undoubtedly a shock to party hacks to discover that the hypocrites were fairly consistently defeated, while people with ideals--whether on the left or the right--won. All week, they've been gasping at the very concept that Americans, quite simply, chose the candidates they felt were most idealistic and sincere.

It wasn't "minority" voters who turned this election around. It was the majority of us who did it, by sending a clear message that hypocrites do not speak for us--and that when they try to, they will lose our vote.

Who would have ever thought that the man Monica would bring down would be Newt? --Maureen Dowd, New York Times, 11/8/98

Political events moved so swiftly last week that the rant I uploaded early Friday morning was stale by that evening. The target of much of my derision had fled the cannibals in Congress to lick his wounds among the crackers of Georgia.

It was a tad depressing. Here I'd spent a couple of hours slapping that rant into shape and now Mr. Gingrich's whimsical double-resignation rendered my vitriol dated. After all, it's a time-honored tradition to take pot-shots at someone in power. But as everyone knows, it's not nice to kick a man when he's down (unless it's by consent, and because he once confided it was his fantasy, of course.)

But on Friday I suddenly realized that kicking people when they are down is actually a national sport. See, I was channel-surfing news networks when the story broke. Within minutes, Newt-- who only a week ago, seemed in command of his party--was being eulogized by the talking heads. Everything they said about him was in the past tense: to hear them tell it, Newt was history.

Poor Newt. His political body wasn't even cold when former allies began elbowing each other for a photo op at his grave. Trickles of titillating gossip leaked wildly from their mouths. Yesterday's yes-men were today's sneering competitors. A cabal of junior Republicans--who owe their seats to the glory-days of Newt's "Contract with America"-- were plotting rebellion. Jealous rivals piously sermonized that Newt was a great revolutionary but a bad leader.

Meanwhile, ultra-conservatives who had invested so much faith--and so very many dollars--in Newt's agenda deserted him en masse. According to the director of The Heritage Foundation, the reason the GOP did far worse than expected in the elections was because "the Republicans didn't cut taxes, which is what God put them on earth to do."

Yikes. As if it isn't bad enough that Newt's former supporters are carving him up like a pre-holiday turkey, now he's damned to hell for betraying God's plan for the IRS.

The Democrats, playing up their role as self-anointed "nice guys" have tried hard not to be caught gloating in public. Instead, they are quietly relishing this unforeseen chance to pretend that they're taking the high road, secure in the knowledge that the GOP is trampling Newt to dust in their rush along the low one.

We all know the Dems would like to tango around Newt's melt-down, singing "Ding dong, the lizard's dead." It would be more honest, and certainly more entertaining if they did. And wouldn't it have been cool if Prez Bill had given in to natural human urges and shouted "Yee-haw! The sucker is GONE!" Instead, Our Peerless Leader sanctimoniously declared Newt a "worthy opponent." Worthy of what? A poke in the eye with a sharp stick?

As the hours passed, the GOP's official spin on Newt's temper tantrum took form. At first, the confused hacks left to speak to media floundered for an explanation but then, by late evening, someone--was that you Dick Morris?--had finally come up with the ultimate face-saving lie. It was a good one, too.

See, despite appearances, the Speaker of the House didn't just pack up his toys and go home because nobody wanted to play the game by his rules. And, no, it wasn't really because the lies, arrogance and divisiveness that were the hallmarks of his political career were finally his undoing. No, the REAL reason Newt quit was because (take a deep breath, America) HE DID IT FOR US.

Never mind that he laid the blame on the media. Newt, in an act of personal sacrifice, was taking responsibility for his mistakes and doing the honorable thing by resigning. Several GOP pundits even claimed that Newt's noble act of political martyrdom was an example that Bill Clinton should follow.

Well, I think I've had my fill of this silliness. So, let me just make three simple points..

First: a quitter is a coward. Whatever you might say about William Jefferson Clinton, he is not a quitter.

Second: people who worship a man one day and destroy him the next are not just cowards, they're bastards too. Don't count on any of the men clawing for Newt's job to be better than he was.

And finally, for those who think the Un-Speaker's career is over, and that a bitter departure from the spotlight means the end of a political career, I have two words for you:

If you're a regular visitor, you may be wondering why this site hasn't been updated in a couple of weeks.

Between the purchase of a new PC, the onset of holiday madness, my travel schedule, and an approaching book deadline, I've simply been too overwhelmed to keep up with Web stuff. My apologies if you've been waiting for email or a particular update.

Adding to this brew, I am going to spend the holidays with my parents this year. My father is quite ill, so I will want to use all my time there as best I can, to support my mother and help ease her burden somewhat. In other words, unless there are any fires worth fighting here, I will only be checking in sporadically until the first week of December.

If you're a devoted gloria-brame.com-aholic, and now experiencing tremors of anxiety, take a nice deep breath and remind yourself of all the pages and features in this domain that you haven't yet had time to explore (surely there must be at least one or two). In the past few months, I've added dozens of transcripts, articles, comics, pictures, erotica, links, and other goodies for the kinky set.

There's even a new BDSM POETRY CONTEST for you aspiring romantics! The competition is open to all, so please check it out.

I'll be back to my regular schedule of updates before too long. Meanwhile, I wish you and yours a very happy and healthy season. May your loved ones prosper and your joys multiply.