The End
They say 'A picture is worth a thousand words'.
They say 'Don't bite the hand that feeds you'
How I wish these thoughts resonated with Babestation, Studio 66 and the babes that represent them.
I have spoken often of the view that nightshow entertainment thrives on feeling and not process. In this contribution I wish to expand on just what that truly means in it's purest form relative to what should be on offer to keep meaningful belief in the product alive.
The image we see through our television sets and webstreams is at it's best when it generates feeling for the viewer. Impulse perhaps. Stimulating impulse.
More often than not the best image is a slowly moving one with the on screen babe and the camera working together as one to create sexual tension, lust and desire.
It burns in our every soul and beats in our every heart.
It has driven me many times hence to pick up the phone out of raging desire to lose myself in a telephonic exchange with various on screen babes.
The way the babe moves, the positions she adopts, every glide of hand over body, every look, every glance, every twist, every turn. Every single thing done through and with the camera has meaning. Eroticism builds to a crescendo.
The picture of the aforementioned thousand words is created.
Through true enjoyment, engagement and desire to please a magical night hours story is played out without mechanical blockade.
Primed exponents of this in the ever evolving nightshow art have been plentiful in so many different styles. Not for one single moment do I lose sight of that fact.
Not for one single second will I forget or take for granted the most special of memories the channels created in their halcyon times.
But for now and perhaps forever I have lost sight of any genuine hope for and belief in the nightshow product. Through the disingenuous, the dishonest, the fakery, the greed, the hypocrisy, the horrifying loss of grasp on reality and the unerring ability to be so far up ones own bottom the emergence through ones own top end orifice is all to prevalent.
Indeed we have all lost sight have we not?
Viewing of a night has become quite literally blurred with tip goals created to restore the true picture. Behind the blurred can be a multitude of sins.
It would be lovely to think these sins would be sexual and genuine but alas.....alas.
Instead the sins are those more negative ones eluded to above.
Where we desire the turn on the channels behaviour creates a desire to turn off.
The deception, the scam, the banning and censure of those on the chat for pointing out the unpalattable truth the channels do not want the more gullable to know. This is not a picture. This a grafitti attack of the worst kind on everything I used to love about the nightshow art. It is disreputable creation of blindness and blind alley.
It is flagrant breach of trust masquerading as adult entertainment.
Duplicitous behaviour from those in front of the camera and those behind it.
Behind every curtain I sense a dirty trick.
Behind every tip goal I sense a vibratoy rattling around on the floor chasing a disorientated spider around the set rather than vibrating in its proper place.
Behind the eyes of rather too many babes I see pound signs but no soul.
No feeling, no care, no desire to please.
Where has the image of a thousand words gone?
Where is the feeling running through the hand that feeds?
Blood runs through me but now boils with rage and despair.
Those feelings of desire and lustful appreciation seem worlds away.
I am not a nightshow mechanic. I wish that fate upon no man or woman.
Mechanics and gimmickery represent the end of what nightshows should be and have been at their very best. They are salt to a gaping wound.
They are the breaking of my nightshow heart.
They are quite simply 'The End'.
(This post was last modified: 03-02-2020 20:03 by Snooks.)
|