Thursday, March 19, 2009

Adventures in the Palace of Porn, part four

No links in this one!

The shoot itself was a classic combination of good intentions, skilled performers and random curve balls - sort of like a Gilbert & Sullivan Light Opera company in summer stock. There was a script - I still have one - but it was not strictly adhered to. There was supposed to be a competition going on, but with four models in play (so to speak) there were times when the leads were difficult to follow inside a tangle of bodies. Plus, we had the interesting and potentially erotic input from the live audience via chat on the kink.com website.

I say potentially, because that's been on my mind for years; the idea of viewers determining what the actor or model on the camera will do or suffer. Certainly, people who are into the scene use this as part of their SM dynamic in long distance relationships. There are also many web performers who do something like it already, but the idea of incorporating it into a live show is oddly attractive to me. Sort of a midway stop between completely passive voyeurism and really playing; a way for exhibitionists to not actually have personal contact with the eyes watching them. It's a nice use of tech.

I also say potentially because, let's face it, a lot of the comments were lame or repetitive or both. Not to mention showing off the specific tastes and fears of the typists watching at home. For example, we were discussing at several point the addition of some slave boys to serve on the upper floor. This was met with much approval from every guest at the dinner, but one watcher was so offended he used his caps key to let us know "No slave boys! No men!" over and over.

Yeah, OK, I get it, naked peepees are scary. Well, too bad. It's a pity there's so little porn with all girls, huh?

Also, I can understand that as a fetishist, the cum shot is what it's all about. So, if there were viewers who needed, absolutely needed, every model in a ball gag or they wouldn't shoot, that can be disappointing. But maybe the chat rooms need an automatic filter for the same line when it is repeated more than once. It's a thought.

The biggest concern for me during the shoot is that there was very little to use for someone like me to judge the two primary models. Looking good while being played with is nice! But if the idea was that somehow they were supposed to earn a position in a service based arena, I would have liked to see more...service?

Fetching and carrying and answering questions politely were the primary areas of criteria outside of SM and sex play.

Here is the essential conundrum of the concept again. To judge someone who can serve, to me, requires more than this. This is fun; it's amusing and people did get off and as far as I'm concerned, people getting off is a good thing.

But where can you find the balance between entertainment and more realistic (and therefore potentially dull) activities? Darkholme, sitting on my right, noted that although the blocking had the servers walking along the front of the table and then presenting plates from that side, this is not considered the correct method according to table service protocol. And we didn't even know if the servers know they had been directed against common protocol. (Which, for the record, is fine. Having them walk past the camera and bend over presenting their butts to the camera was the point, of course. That's staging.)

But my instinct would have had them instructed in more proper service. And I could just imagine the audience for that. Hmm. There would be...me...and...Jasper could be convinced to keep me company. (He's my cat.)

(crickets)

Yeah. And while die-hard fetishists for service might actually tune in, I could imagine the outcry from, say, the big fan of ball gags. "Screw the fish knife, why isn't someone gagging her with a BALL GAG?"

It would be like the spectators showing up for the Mardi Gras and finding a Lent service.

And yet...part of me keeps thinking...

It would be so COOL!
More thoughts on this coming soon.

2 comments:

Mad said...

I am probably about to stretch an analogy to its breaking point here, but I think you're absolutely right, it could very well be like tuning to to Mardi Gras to get a Lent service.

There may be no beads and no boobies, but damn. Of all the times of the year for church, you cannot beat the Lenten season. Here is a time that isn't touched by hallmark.

A traditional lenten mass is the most wonderfully ritualized part left of the catholic tradition. It's choreographed, and austere, but perfectly beautiful. And the best part of course...

... is that after lent comes the midnight easter vigil. Now, if you've never been to one, nothing compares to an easter vigil in the catholic church. Nothing, not even a wedding comes close to the gorgeous ritual that is this night.

Imagine at midnight cathedral-styled church, domed roofed, stained glass, and a cavernous organ room, meticulously decked out with fresh flowers and ornate tapestries for the ceremony to come, but bathed completely in darkness. A junior priest begins to tease the altar with incense as a pitch perfect single soprano voice begins to sing Ave Maria. From outside at the back entrance to the church, an altar boy brings a single lighted candle, and with that candle, passes the light to the closest parishoner to light their own taper. Slowly, but in a wave that grows more urgent row by row, the entire building is bathed in that vivid, dancing light that is only ever brought about by living fire, and nothing else can come close to that organic illumination. The haunting solo is replaced by a full chorus of voices raised in 4-part harmony "Christus Ressurectus Est".

You don't get that kind of ending with plastic beads, and after a few dozen drunken girls, the boobies all start to look the same.

Yeah, I'd tune in.

(and as promised as I stretch the analogy to the breaking point, if we're talking a catholic lent service, there's probably going to be more boy-oy action, too!)

Laura Antoniou said...

(grin) The Greek Orthodox version is very similar, minus the soprano and Latin, but adding the mournful Christos Anesti hymn. Then home, starving and exhausted to light a candle with the flame brought from the church and bless every room. (We also relit the pilot light of the stove, sort of starting one's hearth with the new fire.) Then, at last, fresh avgolemono soup - with meat! after 40 days of no meat, even chicken soup felt luxurious -and the first deep red eggs, cracked and devoured with slices of sweet bread.

However, to get there, there were the 40 days of no meat, no dairy, far too many fish sticks and way too many lentil beans. (To this day, I can eat neither with pleasure.) Plus, I believe at that time, McDonalds was still frying their fries in beef tallow, no no french fries.

I envied my Catholic cousins who all gave up ONE thing for Lent, and THEY got to pick it.

Anyhoo...is the money shot - the Easter vigil - really worth the Lent, when as an adult, I can eat avgolemeno whenever I want? Plus, since I have moved on from that faith, would the experience have the same resonance for me?

It's a good working analogy, and easily stretched to fit. There is a larger audience for the celebratory meal without the meaning, the pomp without consequential circumstances. And as the product in question is porn, we don't even have the significant support that a religion does in terms of parents "doing it for the kids."