Ron is on his knees at eye level with a throbbing dark erection of Fredrick, a young man I broke years ago with whip, leather and the point of my high heels.
We are in my office so everything is being recorded.  It is what I’ll use to black mail him into further humiliation and obedience.
In all my years of taking sex slaves, I’ve found that everyone has a line that they won’t cross and I am in the process of finding Ron’s.  It is his punishment.
His mouth slowly opens as if he is considering getting it over with.  He lets out a feeble whimper instead.
“What?  Are you gonna cry?”  I’m in his face.  I want him to feel my spit on his cheek.  “You gonna cry like a little bitch.”
I had the impulse to slam his head forward and force feed that cock into his stupid face, but I didn’t do it.
It must be him.  He must give me his manhood of his own free will.  That is how I break them and make them mine.
He whimpered again and I laugh loud in his face.
I tell him that he’s going to suck it or he is going to have to explain the pictures of him eating another woman’s pussy and fucking his co-worker, Neeta, to his pregnant wife.
You are probably wondering how to get a straight man to even THINK of getting on his knees to sacrifice his manhood without putting a gun to his head.  Everyone has a price.  Everyone has something they would give anything for.  Including you.
The breaking of Ron all started with one sin.  One tantalizing sin.  I actually caught him in my office about to have sex with another woman.  Its so funny – it was like a two for one deal.  I got him and his little red-haired cunt.  They are a handsome couple, too.  Ron is a muscular dusty blonde surfer boy and Neeta is a busty, pouty lipped professional woman.
I suppose being their boss and a daughter of the co-founder of the company had something to do with it.  But honestly I don’t need the title to get these bitches because I record everything in my office.  One way or another they learn to service me.  Reluctantly at first, then willingly and finally… they beg.  I promise you there is no sweeter joy than a begging sex slave.
The very same day I caught Ron and Neeta, we had a meeting with our customer.  We were trying to win a contract to train the military on preventing Sexual Harassment.  LOL.  Both Neeta and Ron would had to brief Division Chiefs from other branches and customers.  It was an important meeting that would bring in millions of dollars.  Neeta fumbled through the presentation.  She’d briefed it at least 30 times and knew it by heart, but this time she was visibly shaken.  She would look over at me and her voice would falter.  I thought at any moment she’d burst into tears and run out of the room.  I’d pet her later.  She wouldn’t be any good to me broken.  Aside from knowing what line sex slave will not cross, you also have to figure out how much they can take.  She barely made it through the briefing.
Ron, on the other hand, had an amazing game face.  He hit every point home and made confident eye contact with every person in the meeting.  He even cracked jokes.  All that, in the face of pending black mail, being face fucked by my pussy, and forced to perform with Neeta on my office desk no more than two hours ago.
“And that ladies and gentlemen, is why Sable, Strapp and Sayda is not just the best company for the Equal Opportunity Sexual Harassment contract, it is the ONLY company that can give our soldiers, airman, Marines and seaman the training they need.  We do it because we feel it is our duty as Americans to give our sons and daughters who fight for our freedom the best psychological advantage that modern science can create.  Thank you.”
He ended with a glowing smile that landed on Col. Wiesmith, our potential customer and a military equal opportunity staffer from the Pentagon.  The colonel actually stood up and applauded him then shook his hand.  They sent Ron soaring praises.
“Miss Sayda you’ve got yourself a winner here,” the Colonel told me.  I feigned a smile and pretended to be preoccupied with finishing up notes.  The whole display made me want to vomit in my lap and have Ron eat it clean!  He would be punished.
The meeting was over.  The Colonel and his group left the room.  Neeta and the other employees started walking out, “Neeta and Ron, Toni, Sasha Fredrick.  Please stay for an additional meeting.”
“Good job.”  I told them without smiling.  There was a sigh of relief.  Sasha was nearly in tears.. she was greedy whore for pain, pleasure and my sparse compliment.  Well trained with good breeding that I have yet to reproduce.
I really meant what I said, but they had to be put in their place.  Shades were drawn, the door was locked and out of my government approved cabinet I produced a whip.
“Fredrick and Toni, remove Ron’s shirt,” they all looked at one another for a beat and then did as they were told.  I moved to the 62 inch touch display at the front of the room.  I navigated to my protected file server and brought up a file on screen marked “113010-rn-nta-1230”.
His shirt half removed, Ron began to protest right on queue.  “Wait stop.  No.  Why are you doing this?  I did good.  That government contract is as good as ours.  I did that!  Why are you doing this?”
I hit the green triangle “play” button on the touch screen.  A recording of Ron from three hours ago appeared on the screen.  He was walking into her office and locking the door carefully.
“You still don’t understand,” I said softly.  “I own you.”
The Recording of Ron was pulling his pants down, with semi-hard penis flopping out.
“You belong to me.  That means, things are good when I say they are good.”
We all watched as Ron began stroking himself hard leaning against my office desk.  Then he sat in my  black leather, high backed chair.
“O.k.  Stop.  I’ll do it.” Ron said with his blushing face looking at my feet.
“I say when to stop, Ronnie.”
The screen showed him at my feet.
“Please stop.”  He was quickly undoing the last button on his shirt.  His eyes begging.
I closed the video and handed the whip to Sasha, “five lashes.  I want evidence.”
“Mistress.” She begged. “I’ll want –“ One stare shut her filthy mouth.  As if controlling her with my gaze she collapsed before me and began to kiss my bare ankles.
“As you wish,” She whispered and unfurled the whip.
I breathed into Ron’s ear, “no good deed.  Goes unpunished.”
And I walked out.
I thought that the incident had been enough to put Ron in his place, but when I watched the video I found him ever defiant.  It was at an executive party at my home, in fact and witnessed by no less that 15 of my peers, Overseers, masters and Grand Masters of untold sex slaves.
It had been a great night up to that point.  It was the usual: sex slaves from every department of the company serving us catered food, naked and willing to fulfill our darkest whims.  Nubile servants humiliated by their owners and laughed at by an entire room.  The night was sweetened by cocktail lace candy shaped like sex and sucked from champagne off the bodies sweat lubricated orgy.  The video was usually what we did last.  A tradition I started.
That nights feature was Ron getting whipped, “This is the buck that got us that government contract.”  I said proudly.  “Took me a day to break him, “  I boasted.  That night I’d had too much licorice absinthe because, Percy, a junior Overseer with only two slaves to his sorry name saw something I had not:  Ron’s eyes.
“Does not look broken,” Percy said.
Onscreen was Ron with bare back in the foreground, Sasha with whip with Neeta, Toni and Fredrick watching in the back ground.
“You don’t deserve it.”  Sasha pouted as she hit him as hard as her little arms could muster.  A welt rose on his back visible even on the graining camera.  Neeta was flinching and grabbing Toni’s arm.
“Goddamn it,” Fredrick said.  “Take it easy, Sosh.”
Sasha grunted as she swung putting every ounce of her jealous rage into the tip of that whip.  The next lash broke skin, but Ron didn’t flinch.  Instead he found my camera and stared right in it.  The camera was right in his face.  And his eyes were burning with hate.  He stared into it, right at me, defiant, unyielding, showing no shame, no pleasure and no pain.
“Oh, he IS a fiery one.” Percy said sucking at the green olive in is Screaming Orgasm.  “No way.  Does not look broken in the least.  Wild buck, I want to ride into the sunset.”
I slapped the drink into his face.  He gasped and clutched his pearls.
“Get out,”  I turn off the display and kicked everyone out, drinks in hand, hung-over, drunk sober and naked into the night and spit at their anger.  “Get. the hell. out!”
Now here he is with a dick in his face about to feel it in his throat.  About to suck another man’s larger, thicker cock and be recorded for all to see at my next executive party.
I can see that he is fighting back tears.  He knows he fucked up.  No way out but to suck a cock.
I laugh, “look at you.”  Tears finally stream down his face.  I coo at him.  “Oh poor baby.  Poor baby.  You make me so happy right now.”  I lick the tears from his blushing cheeks.  They are the sweetest taste. Orgasmic, making me wet.  His tears.  I want to bottle them up and sip them like strawberry wine and get drunk on his suffering.  I shush him and gather his naked body into my breasts like a mother coddling a suckling.
“Look, its easy.”  I take Fredrick’s huge cock into my mouth and being to suck.  My head thrusting in and out until I hear a moan of pleasure.  I spit on the tip and pump the pole in my fist, “That is all you have to do.  My sweet, boy. Why do you resist, me.”
He doesn’t answer.
“You could be my favorite.  I’ll treat you so good.  I’ll send your wife flowers.  When you’re done.”
He pushes me away, hard and I fall back on my rump.  “You son of a bitch!”
Fredrick swings a fist down at him but Ron blocks and punches him in the erection.  Fredrick is curled in the fetal position when I jump over him to get to Ron.  I’m on top of him with my hands at his throat.  Squeezing.  His face is red as he claws at my forearms.
He clutches the front of my blouse and kicks me off of him.  I stumble away and on to my back with breast exposed.  He tears off my skirt and mounts me.  He’s reaching for my panties and finds them soaking wet.  I moan and hate myself for the pure ecstasy of this moment.
“You sick bitch!”  He says fingering my pussy.  “You like this don’t you.”  He rips my panties off and jams his dick inside mercilessly.  I cry out.
I grab at his eyes but he pens both arms down and begins to thrust hard.  I wiggle one hand free and sock him in the throat.  He curls up gagging grasping his throat.  He’s at my feet.  I kick him hard in the rib cages and spit in his face.
I go to my cabinet and grab my cuffs.  I place his left wrist in a cuff.  I start to get his other hand but he grabs the free cuff and slaps it down on my own wrist.  Our left hands are fastened together and I am sitting on top of him.  Both of us naked.
I pen his free hand behind his back slamming down hard on his throbbing dick. I’m riding him and he’s trying to buck me off.  But I’m squeezing my pussy hard around him and trying to hurt him with my thrust.
A violent lapping, greedy kiss ends with his lip in my teeth.  He bites my neck and scratches my breasts with the cuffed hand as I cum, gushes all over him.  I rise up resting on his stomach, ejaculating a puddle that fills his belly button and the lines of his 6-pack.  I can feel him squirting on my left ass cheek.
We lay there breathing hard.  Still trying to fight but too exhausted.  I give him several slaps in the face with my free hand.  He stops fighting as I slap and slap and slap.  When he is finally laying there still beneath me,  I uncuff our hands.
“Put your, goddamn clothes on and get the hell out of my sight!”
He obeys quickly without challenging my steady gaze, “Fredrick, clean me.”  Fredrick obliges with his tongue.  Ron is going to take more work.

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Where the Boys Are
By Al Weisel
US Magazine, June 1996, pp. 90-98, 117-118

Male supermodels don't throw tantrums, give attitude or make moviesyet. They're hot right now, but how long will they last?

Imagine you're walking down the street in New York City on a beautiful sunny day when suddenly you notice something strange: People are being nice to you. They're smiling at you. Strangers say hello as they pass. Women lower their sunglasses; men stare into your eyes. This is no dream. You're supermodel Joel West, and everybody wants you.

"I don't think I will ever quite accept the attention," says West, 20, who signed a one-year, seven-figure contract with Calvin Klein last August. "People whispering, talking about me. The acknowledgment of society knowing who I am wherever I go." Of course, West's predicament is not news. Supermodels had been treated like celebrities long before West was launched into the world by the band of his Calvin Klein underwear. What is news is that West, thanks in part to those Calvin's, is one of the first male models to become an international sex object.

Not long ago, the idea of male models as sex objects was almost laughable, if not suspect. Men's fashion represented just a fraction of the industry, and men who worried about their looks were considered, somehow, less masculine. Male models, in turn, were treated as mere props and background-anonymous walk-ons who made far less money than their female counterparts. But changing attitudes toward male beauty - reflected in and even propelled in part by Klein's advertising campaigns-have empowered men in the only profession (besides, perhaps, the world's oldest) in which they had been second-class citizens.

FASHION WEEK IN NEW YORK: AT CALVIN KLEINTHE MOST prestigious of the New York menswear showsmodels listen in rapt attention as Klein recites his pre-show instructions. "Don't look serious," he says. "But no big smiles. You already look like you could wear a $2,000 suit, so you don't have to try to look proud." Klein makes a quick exit, then returns just as quickly. "I just thought of something else," he says. "If there's one word to describe the feeling, think sex."

One of the sexiest models isn't here today. Tyson Beckford, who made history last year as the first African-American male to ink an exclusive deal with a major designer, is prohibited by his contract with Polo Ralph Lauren from doing other designers' shows. So it's up to models like Alex Lundqvist, 24, a sweet-faced Swede with long blond hair and a wispy mustache and goatee, has compelling eyes, clear and blue. Fellow Wilhelmina model Mark Vanderloo is a trim Dutchman with spiky blond hair. At 27, he's the world's highest-paid male model, with an annual income of more than $1 million.

Across the room, Jason Olive, a volleyball player who graduated last year from the University of Hawaii, displays his massive chest. But he's not just showing offhe says he'll be wearing a turtleneck in the show and doesn't want to mess up his makeup. "Why don't you parade around shirtless like Olive?" Lundqvist is asked, and he snaps back, "Because I think it's tacky." Then he reconsiders. "Well, maybe if I was as big as him..." Olive isn't the only model who makes Lundqvist envious. Looking over at Joel West, he whispers, "Did Joel tell you how much money he makes?"

It's natural that West would be the source of jealousy among other models. Last August the small-town boy from Indianola, Iowa, was plucked from obscurity and vaulted to the top tier of male supermodels when he signed on with Calvin Klein. Apparently, though, there is trouble in paradise. "I'm not doing many shows this year," says West, sighing. Last season he was Klein's star model. Now, he says, disappointed at his placement in the show, "I'm 57th."

IN THE LOBBY OF BOSS MODELS, A GIANT BLOWUP OF THE now infamous Calvin Klein underwear ad featuring Joel West looms: "It makes me proud," says West, who has stopped by the agency to pick up his fan mailall of which turns out to be from men." I wish some girls would write me," he says plaintively, quickly adding he doesn't mind having so many male fans. Later, West confesses, "I'm a very trusting person." Which might explain why he wasn't fazed when a photographer approached him at the Mall of America Dairy Queen in Minneapolis while he was eating a Blizzard on an outing with his church group. The photographer asked West, 17 at the time, to model for him. West's mother, Jan Gipple, was more wary, having "heard things about the fashion industry," he says, and insisted on accompanying him. "We had a five-hour drive to get him to [the shoot]," says Gipple. "It's in this abandoned warehouse, and I'm thinking, This is great; we're just going to leave you at an abandoned warehouse with this stranger. I wonder if you're going to be there when we pick you up." The photographer turned out to be aboveboard, but Gipple, 42, a veterinary technician who herself grew up in Indianola, still wasn't convinced West would make it: "In Iowa, what are the chances of your getting anywhere in modeling?"

West, however, with his otherworldly beautylithe, defined body, pouty lips and exotic eyessoon became familiar to anyone who picked up a magazine. But he had no idea just how familiar he would become. In October 1995, a couple of months after he signed on with Calvin Klein, West was propelled to instant notoriety with a controversial underwear campaign featuring him spread-eagled and clad only in his Calvins. The advertisements' sexual frankness made them ripe for attack (especially coming after Klein's much-assailed ad campaign featuring teen-age models a few months earlier), and West became nightly fodder for tabloid TV shows, which camped out in his family's yard in Iowa.

West's father, Rob West, 41, who operates a backhoe for a construction company and hasn't seen much of his son since divorcing Joel's mother when Joel was 14, says, "I. was happy he was making the money, but I didn't really like the ads. They were risqué." Gipple, on the other hand, had a more practical view: "I said, 'It's pretty hard to sell a product if you're not going to show it."' The strongest reaction, surprisingly, came from Linda J. Wachner, CEO of Warnaco, which owns Calvin Klein's underwear division; she publicly excoriated them. "This ad which appeared with this gentleman's legs spread apart was not approved by Warnaco," she said. "There are no plans to use that shot again."

West was shocked by the controversy. "I didn't understand where they were coming from," he says. "I took it very personally." Meanwhile, he had to deal with instant celebrity. "I've lost a lot of my privacy," he says. "There were a few months of adjustment where I was in limbo. I wasn't happy." He denies media reports that the pressure made him flee New York for Iowa. "I love New York," he says. "I purchased a home in Iowa to be close to my family." West shares his new housewith its circular driveway, pillars and fountain in frontwith his maternal grandparents, who take care of it when he's away. "It's like something out of Gone With the Wind," marvels his mother.

West's mother and stepfather, Michael Gipple, a fleet mechanic for the Mid American Energy Company, live just down the road with Joel's 17-year-old brother, Jake. West has nicknamed Jake "Deviant" because of his penchant for mischieflike trying to break into West's laptop. Joel's father, who grew up in and still lives in Indianola, says, "Joel looks like me and takes after his mom. Jake looks like his mom and takes after me. Jake's more wild. Joel's more laid-back."

West's high-school teachers have nothing but nice things to say about him, which isn't surprising since he was voted biggest brown-noser by his class. "Joel always had a ready smile," gushes his chemistry teacher, Irene Bertsch. "He was a very hard worker." She wasn't shocked by the ads. "I saw Joel at several swim meets, and actually there was more covered in the ad than there was in the tiny little Speedos they wear," she says.

But things in Iowa are not quite the same. "I have a lot more friends and family members," West says cynically. "People coming out of the woodwork." He says that people who once thought he was "a geeky bookworm" now think he's "cool," including his girlfriend, Joy Ashbaugh. She ignored West when they attended high school together"She was in the elite, the cool girls who hung out with the cool guys," he saysand started dating him only after he became a successful model. "I've stayed the same," he says. "The only thing that's changed is the people around me." His mother, however, has detected some changes in West. "He may be more leery of people than he used to be," she says. "Since I'm not familiar with the media, Joel kept telling me, 'Don't tell them everything, Mom, because things get twisted.'" But she also thinks "it made him very worldly. He acts a lot older than any 20-year-old I've met."

Otherwise he's the same kid she raised. "He's possessed to excel in everything he does," she says. "He drives everyone crazy being an overachiever." But there's also another side to him. "He's the biggest romantic," she says. "For his girlfriend at Thanksgiving he filled his room with balloons, had a candlelight dinner and cooked this gourmet meal. I'm thinking, Most guys would just pull up, honk, and you run out."

ONE MIGHT THINK THAT BEING AN OBJECT OF DESIRE WOULD make it easy to find a mate. But most models say maintaining a relationship is one of the difficulties of the job. Tyson Beckford, who has dated Chilli from TLC, says that in addition to the fact that "you're never home," jealousy can be a big problem. "I've dated girls, and they'll be like, 'Oh, she was looking at you,' and I'll be like, 'No, she wasn't. She was just being nice.'" One of the best things about the woman he recently started dating is that she's not jealous. "We went to a pre-Grammy party, and all these girls were coming up to me, but she was cool about it," he says.

Some models end up with the people who best know what their lives are like: other models. "Another model knows what you have to go through," says Vanderloo. "And they aren't the ugliest girls in the world, either." Ask Alex Lundqvist. He dated supermodel Nadja Auermann for more than a year (although the relationship ended in February).

For models who aren't ready to settle down, there are plenty of opportunities for fleeting pleasures. "One time I was dog tired and went out to a club for a drink," recalls 24-year-old Jason Lewis, who has been modeling for three years. "A woman recognized who I was and basically offered to go to bed with me. I said, 'That's great, but I'm really tired,' and walked out." And when he's not so tired? "I've certainly had relationships with women that lasted an evening," he says, "but I don't screw around that much. I don't want anyone greeting me with bulls, and I don't think it's fair of me to do the same."

Of course, women aren't the only ones who have crushes on guys like Lewis. The top male models, however, don't seem either publicly or privately to identify as gay. Not that they're homophobic, either. "I've had men have crushes on me," says Atlanta native Mark Fisher, 20, who is currently appearing in the new Polo Sport campaign. "I treat them the same as anybody else."

"TEN YEARS AGO, THE STANDARD MALE MODEL WAS PERFECT face, perfect body. Boring, really," says casting agent Leslie Simitch. "I think now there's a much wider range of what we consider attractive in a man." In the '70s, the elegant, square-jawed GQ look was in. In the '80s, renowned fashion photographer Bruce Weber popularized more-athletic bodies with pumped-up pectorals and chiseled abdominals. "Many male models now are scrawny," says Simitch. "And a lot have long hair."

But the idea that men can be just as sexy as womenand that male models can be marketed as sex objectswhose men's division is the largest in the worldand his New York director, Jason Kanner, have been doing everything in their power to cultivate this phenomenon and make it last. One of Kanner's first assignments when he joined the agency in 1991 was to manage Marcus Schenkenberg, now 27, who was soon to appear in a 116-page advertising supplement for Calvin Klein photographed by Bruce Weber. In the most famous shot, Schenkenberg is naked in a shower, his ripped torso dripping wet, and holding jeans in front of what he modestly refers to in Swedish-filtered English as his "fireman." Kanner had a radical plan for promoting Schenkenberg: Market him like a female model. The agency raised his rates, from $3,000 to as much as $20,000 a day, and was more selective about the jobs he took." He'd do three or four campaigns instead of 12 but get more money," explains Kanner. "This was done with women, never with men." The strategy worked: Schenkenberg was in such demand after the campaign, his rates went up, which helped increase rates for other male models as well.

One February afternoon, Kanner is looking through a sea of photographs spread out before him. He's just returned from scouting in Milan, where he chose five of the 500 men he saw. Kanner points out the attributes of the men he selected: the "sunken cheekbones, ivory skin and jet-black hair" of one, "the perfect nose, full lips and great jaw line" of another. Then, sounding like a high-school misfit getting revenge on the popular guys, he sizes up the rejects. One model "looks like a schoolteacher," he says. Of another he complains, "There's way too many odd things happening on this guy's face." Kanner knows he has an advantage over them. "When I'm 60," he says, "I'm still going to have a job."

Looks aren't everything, though, even in modeling. Jennifer Starr, who was Bruce Weber's casting assistant for four years before going free-lance recently, says that she looks for qualities that are more than skin-deep. "At first it's the physical look," she says. "But after that it's all attitude. When I find someone on the street and take a Polaroid of them, I'm looking to see how they react to me and the camera- if they're stiff, how they hold themselves. You have to be comfortable with who you are." But not too comfortable. "Sometimes after you've been in this business awhile," she says, "you've got it down, and that's not interesting to work with anymore. That spontaneity is gone."

THE STANDARDS OF BEAUTY, LIKE THOSE OF FASHION, DO change. But some models, like Tyson (Beckford is his last name, but like some of the female supermodels, he eschews his surname), are so stunningly beautiful that it doesn't matter if their look is "in" at the moment. Although he's 6-foot-1, Tyson looks smaller in person than in photographs, but his face is even more breathtaking, with Asian eyes, full lips and silky, dark skin. When he smiles, he can look as gentle as a kitten; when he frowns, as mean as a rattlesnake. Before shooting a commercial for Polo, Tyson changes clothes, taking off the baggy B-boy jeans he prefers and dancing around as he struggles to pull tight jeans over his massive thighs. Then he takes off his shirt, revealing jaw-dropping muscles as well as something one never sees under the tailored suits he wears so elegantlya rebellious streak. After he signed a Polo Ralph Lauren contract for a reported $550,000 last year, Tyson covered his arms with tattoos.

Dragons are etched on his biceps. Both forearms have Chinese inscriptions. He translates the sentence on his right forearm, a tribute to his older brother Patrick, who was murdered in a mugging four years ago. But Tyson declines to decipher the message on the other arm: "It's a secret," he says, "for me and my homies. We all got the same thing." The tattoo illustrates why he will probably survive no matter what happens to him in the treacherous waters of the fashion world. In English it reads, "Don't trust anybody."

While watching a comedian in New York's Washington Square Park in the summer of 1991, Tyson was approached by an editor for the hip-hop magazine The Source who offered him a modeling job. "This guy goes to me, 'You got pretty eyes,'" Tyson, 25, recalls. "I'm thinking, Must be some porno magazine:" But then the editor said something that piqued Tyson's interest. "The opportunities," he said, "are endless:" Two days later, Tyson had his first gig. But because he really wanted a job in the music industry, Tyson drifted out of modeling. Patrick encouraged him to pursue it. "In modeling," his brother told him coincidentally, "the opportunities are endless."

Tyson was born in the Bronx, N.Y., but the family moved to Jamaica when he was just a baby. His mother, Hilory Dixon, who once won third place in a Miss Jamaica contest, moved them back to New York when Tyson was 7 after separating from his father. She later married Lloyd Dixon, who worked for a collection agency and was always calling people up saying, "You owe us money," Tyson remembers. "I grew up not really having a father image," he says. "I used to think my stepfather was the meanest man in the world." Tyson resented being forced by Dixon, who now works for Citibank, to learn how to do taxes for the money he earned from his paper route when he was 13. "I said I'm never gonna need to know how to deal with that," he says. "But now I'm dealing with it. I didn't understand when I was a kid. He's still in there with me today. He means a lot to me."

When Tyson first moved to New York, the other kids made fun of the way he looked and talked. "I was this dark-skinned Chinese kid with an Afro who spoke with a heavy Jamaican accent," says Tyson, whose paternal grandmother is Chinese. "If you think about it, it's kind of funny. They called me Mr. Chin." Because he spoke Jamaican patois, he says, "I had to take classes to learn to speak so-called English. Since I couldn't speak too well, I had to stay back a year." After graduating at 19, he attended a community college but dropped out after one semester. Then, in August 1992, Tyson's brother Patrick was murdered. "I got in my own shell and didn't want to do nothing," he says.

A year later Tyson saw actor Kadeem Hardison on The Arsenio Hall Show talking about his mother Bethann's modeling agency. Recalling his brother's words about opportunities in modeling, Tyson went to see her.

Hardison was impressed with Tyson but cautious. "You never know who's going to take off, because you have such racism in the industry," she says." Most fashion people don't know the beauty of blacks, so you don't want to encourage someone too much. "Hardison herself was a modeland as one of the first successful black models in the '60s, a pioneer. With dreadlocks down to the small of her back and a radiant smile, she's stunning, and as tough as she is charming. When she was 19, Hardison dropped out of fashion briefly to become a corrections officer after being "inspired by The Snake Pit [the 1948 film about mental illness]," she recalls, laughing.

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In a way, the basic idea underlying all of mysticism is the notion that our species of great ape is capable of experiencing at least two kinds of awareness.  The first kind of awareness which is consciousness or conscious awareness is familiar to all of us.  The second kind of awareness mystical awareness is familiar to fewer of us.
No one knows how many of us have at one time or another experienced mystical awareness.  The experience seems to be uncommon, but not actually rare.  Perhaps, then, a few million people worldwide have experienced it.
Despite that mystical awareness is not nearly as common as conscious awareness, it can be obvious to even a casual reader of the world’s religious literature that the experience of mystical awareness has informed and inspired much of that literature.  That seems especially true in the East.
For instance: While the foundational literatures of the Abrahamic religions the Torah, Bible, Qur’an, etc are comparatively devoid of references to mystical awareness, the foundational literatures of the great Eastern religions the Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita, the Tao Te Ching, the Dharmmapada, etc. are thick with such references.  It is even possible to assert, with reason, that mystical awareness is at the very core of such Eastern religions as Buddhism and Taoism.
The Study of Mystical Awareness
In my opinion, the phenomenon of mystical awareness has yet to be adequately studied by science.  There is, for instance, no effort to study mystical awareness that is comparable to the efforts to study conscious awareness.  In part, that may be because science has traditionally been dominated by Westerners, and Westerners usually come from cultures where mysticism is more or less a cultural backwater.  But it is also because mystical awareness presents a number of challenges to easy study.  Some of those challenges will become evident later on in this essay.
My hunch is some people are shocked by the notion mystical awareness should be scientifically studied.  That is likely because for some people, mystical awareness is inseparable from supernatural forces, entities, and so forth. To suggest that science should study mystical awareness is for those people much the same as saying that science should study the gods an impossibility.  However, I’m of the insufferable opinion that mystical awareness is a natural phenomenon that can be studied by natural means.
During the Muslim Siege of Constantinople in 1453,  St. Elmo’s Fire was seen emitting from the top of the Hippodrome.  The mysterious Fire caused quite a stir.   It was not understood at that time that St. Elmo’s Fire was a natural phenomenon.  The Byzantines attributed it to a sign that the Christian God would soon come and destroy the invading Muslim army.
I think the way the Byzantines responded to the sight of St. Elmo’s Fire illustrates the human tendency to attribute unexplained natural phenomena to supernatural causes.  What we cannot explain, we often call an act of god.  Yet, merely because the science of the day cannot explain something is no logical reason to deem that thing metaphysical in origin.
For over thirty years, I have been interested in mystical experiences (especially the sort of mystical experience that is sometimes called “enlightenment”).  Mystical experiences seem to me to be natural phenomena.  That is, they seem to be phenomena that can be wholly explained in natural terms.
Maybe I’m right about that, maybe I’m wrong.
Anything is possible, and mystical experiences may yet defeat all efforts to explain them entirely in natural terms.  But even if they do even if a hundred years from now we still have no entirely adequate natural explanation for mystical experiences it would even then be illogical to assume on that basis alone that mystical experiences require us to posit a supernatural origin for them.  St. Elmo’s Fire proves that.
If we had reasoned in 1543 that St. Elmo’s Fire must have a supernatural cause, simply because we don’t know of any natural cause for it, we would have been wrong.  And if we reason in 2009 that mystical experiences must have a supernatural cause, simply because we currently don’t know of any natural causes that wholly explain them,  we would again be wrong.
Naturalism is the notion that phenomena can only be explained in terms of natural causes.  It is the opposite of  the doctrine that at least some phenomena can only be explained in terms of metaphysical causes.  Naturalism comes in more than one flavor, which allows folks to argue passionately about which flavor they like best:
Ontological naturalism is the flavor of naturalism that asserts nothing metaphysical exists.  Nature is all there is.
Epistemological naturalism is the flavor of naturalism that asserts we can know only nature.  Our ability to know ends where nature ends.
I usually find ontological naturalism too speculative for my tastes: How can we possibly know whether or not anything exists metaphysically — beyond nature?  There seems to be no reliable method for accomplishing that chore.  So most days I am more kindly disposed towards epistemological naturalism than ontological naturalism. Thus I have approached the study of mystical awareness from the standpoint of an epistemological naturalist.
Please Don’t Sue Me Disclaimer
Despite all I’ve said so far, there are limits to what can be consciously known about mystical awareness.  The word “mystic” can be traced back to an Indo-European root meaning “to be silent or mum”.  It is widely recognized by mystics of all cultures that many aspects of mystical awareness are and will always be beyond the understanding of conscious awareness.  In any discussion of mystical awareness, it cannot be over-emphasized how radically distinct mystical awareness is from conscious awareness:
The tao that can be told
Is not the eternal Tao.
The name that can be named
Is not the eternal Name.
Where the one awareness is, the other is not.
What is a “Mystical Experience”?
What a mystical experience is depends on who you speak with.  Some people would call an experience “mystical” if it involved an intense emotion — such as an overwhelming feeling of awe when witnessing a large waterfall or a sunrise.  Others might call an experience “mystical” if it involved something they considered metaphysical — such as seeing a ghost, experiencing god, or using magic crystals.
Those are legitimate uses of the word, of course, but they are not my usage.  When I refer to an experience as “mystical”, I am referring quite specifically to an awareness in which subject/object perception has come to an end while experiencing continues.  During such an experience, there is no awareness of a distinction between the observer and the observed, the knower and the known, the self and other than the self — That is, between the subject and the object of awareness.  All within the field of awareness is perceived as a unity as one.
At this point we might ask, who or what does the experiencing when conscious awareness is interrupted and the mystical experience occurs?
For normally, when our conscious awareness is at work, we tend to think it (i.e. our mind, our conscious awareness, our consciousness, our self, our ego, our “I”) experiences the world. But when conscious awareness ceases, then who or what does the experiencing?
Of course, one answer is the organism, the individual, the body, the senses and the brain these are still experiencing even though conscious awareness has ceased and is no longer experiencing.
How Do We Know Anything At All About Mystical Experiences?
Near as I can tell, no one has actually observed themselves having a mystical experience because, during the experience itself, the observer (which is a property of conscious awareness) is not present.  There is simply an awareness without, however, anyone who is aware.  Thus it might be reasonably asked how we know anything at all about mystical experiences?
Well, if I’m right about these things — and, of course, I’m usually painfully wrong about these things — then everything we know about mystical experiences is ultimately derived from what we know of their aftereffects on our consciousness.
Imagine a calm pond with a smooth surface.  Then imagine a stone thrown into that pond.  Now pretend you didn’t see the stone go into the pond.  Instead, you turned only in time to watch the aftereffects of the stone’s entry into the water.  What can you deduce about “whatever it was” that made those spreading ripples you now see on the pond?
Sally is not consciously aware of her mystical experience during the experience itself.  Only as Sally’s experience ends as her consciousness once again reasserts itself does she notice something has happened.
At that point, it is somewhat likely, but not guaranteed, that Sally will try to interpret what has happened, for it seems that some people immediately try to interpret what has happened to them, while others refuse to do so.  I myself don’t know whether refusing to interpret a mystical experience is completely possible, but it does seem to some extent possible.
For an unknown reason, there appears to be a correlation between holding out, refusing as much as possible to interpret an experience, and how much that experience transforms us.  If that’s so, then the less Sally interprets her experience, or the longer she holds out, the more it will transform her.
Let’s say Sally tries to interpret her mystical experience immediately upon becoming aware something has happened. It is highly likely Sally will think she is in the very midst of her experience, rather than recognize her experience has already ended.  However, it seems logically impossible for us to be both mystically aware and consciously aware at the same moment.  Either we perceive a division between subject and object, or we do not.  Either the observer is present, or it is not.  What Sally is simultaneously observing and interpreting are the aftereffects of a mystical experience.  She is not seeing the stone enter the water, but is instead seeing the ripples on the pond.
Conclusion
I have barely touched on some of the issues involved in the study of mystical awareness.  However, I think it was about time that I discussed them to the extent I did.  After all, I had written several posts to this blog that discussed mystical awareness, but had yet to write anything about how we know about mystical awareness.  If I have had the good fortune to be right about some of these issues, then please leave your compliments in the comments section.  On the other hand, if I have screwed up in my usual fashion, then please go to Rambodocs blog and complain to him the more bitterly, the better.  He likes it that way.

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Just over three weeks ago, the following email landed in my inbox:

Dear GB,

It's curious how the things I need have a way of finding me without my looking. As in: when a friend recently forwarded me your blog.

My story is one of complete destabilization in a very short period. Late last October I was at the top of my game at work (I work in media), living comfortably (but not passionately) with my longtime partner C and our greyhound, and ready to lose a little weight. I went to my gym and asked for a personal trainer.

The desk assistant suggested I work with B, and our first meeting was very positive. We knew we could work together, had a quick rapport, and it didn't hurt that I found him very handsome. But this was business - I was there to shape up and no more, so gave it little thought.

Five minutes into our first session he asked "So, do you have kids or a wife?" "No, sadly no kids," I said. "But I do have a partner." "Oh, so we're family," he shot back, "that's cool."

This began two or three weeks of serious flirting on his part. Of course, I flirted back, thinking in part 'Well, I guess this is what you do with a gay personal trainer,' but also enjoying the heat of it all. A safe heat, I thought. One Thursday he said "Hey, you seem like you're fun. We should hang out sometime." "You're right," I said, "I am fun. Let's do it." He gave me his number. I was surprised, but gave him my number in return, honestly thinking nothing would come of it.

What came Friday was a text. And a call. We agreed to meet next weekend to visit a friend's art opening. Lots of time in the car there and back, we talked. Mostly him, telling me nearly anything about his life. "You hungry?" he asked as we neared home. Dinner, a walk to his car, and a handshake ended the night.

Fast forward two more weeks and we're seriously dating. Kissing deep when and where we can, he talks freely of "...when you meet my brother..." or "...one of these days I'm going to kidnap you." It's hot and it's fast and it's passion, and it's all potential.

It's also a problem, for me and my partner C. Over 15 years C and I have knit our lives together in every manner...except one. "Bed death" a friend calls it. The physical desire we shared seems gone. And while it's more, B and I are now sharing the one thing I don't have anywhere else. I wonder if B is one of those things that I need that have just found me. I feel vital, and I feel guilty.

After the second date I broke down at the dinner table, confessing what was happening and my total confusion about it all. C smiled. "Any day you're not happy is a wasted day," he said as I sniffled. "You're the best boyfriend in the world." I laughed. Then: "you've got a voice inside you, and you've got to listen to it." It was not what I was expecting, but I took it as license to continue.

December brings more heated talk of sex between B and I, but often one or the other is away. His texts (I've saved the best ones) still make me dizzy.

During this time, my advocates at work are replaced with adversaries, and I rapidly go from being lead go-to guy to being largely put in a corner. This deflation of worth is only amplified by my partner and I having to handle a greyhound in fast decline. My pain at work is nothing compared to her growing discomfort, and eventually we realize, five days before Christmas, that we have to put her to sleep. (I'm told I write movingly about it at my private blog.)

Her end comes at what feels like the ending of a career and, maybe, even a partnership - but also soon on with a first night at B's. The first night of passion is followed the next night (New Year's Eve) by celebrating with his parents at their house - and another night together. Which is followed by a day and night at his brother's place watching movies, drinking beer...and another night of combustible sex. Friday morning he rolls over and says, "So, what's it like to be kidnapped?"

To be clear: it's not just the sex. Really. I've had sex with a few others while with C, and always for me it only means something if I have an emotional bond with my sex partner. Anonymous sex just ain't my bag. And B isn't anonymous; I know more about him in two months (it seems) than many of my friends for years. In this time, we are the definition of intense.

While it seems in early January that we're off to the races (I continue to see him, even now, as my trainer), as the month closes it's clear something is wrong. The night of Feb 2nd we talk on the phone.

"I don't want this to be a break-up call," B says. My brain freezes. The only thing I can hear now is
EAKUP. The conversation goes poorly, and we don't know where to end. He begs me to remain in some contact with him. "Even if it's just to train, I'll take any crumbs." Crumbs? You're the one breaking up with me - and breaking my heart in the process. I confess through tears that I love him; a four-letter word for B that I know will probably panic him. I say it anyway. I've meant to for a while.

The next day I call in sick, shattered. My role at work is shriveling; my beloved greyhound is dead. My understanding partner is much less so, angry with me and uncertain of what we will become. And now this sudden passion, this man my heart loves, is leaving. Believe it or not, I go to the gym at 3pm anyway for our session.

We ask how each other are. "OK," he says, "I didn't sleep too well. Probably deserve it." That's all we say on the matter. Later I text - we need some face time, I'm not sure what has happened. He agrees. "was good 2 c u" he texts. I cry again.

Over dinner a few days later we decide we didn't mean to break up, but that he needs time and space to work through lingering issues and hurts from one or two previous relationships. Ten years my junior (I'm 44) he says he doesn't know what love is, thinks he's done wrong by one of his formers, and needs to know that the next time he falls in love it will be forever. He asks me to be patient, knowing that it may take months for him to come back - if he comes back at all.

The past month has seen continued declining fortunes at work and continued uncertainty with my longtime partner - although with tensions considerably reduced. Interaction with B is limited near exclusively to the gym: we say we'll get together for a beer but don't.

I don't know which is worse: the fear that a primary life friendship with my partner C is just that, a friendship and not a romance, or hoping against fear that B and I may actually have a future despite signs that suggest otherwise. I do know that living with both unknowns is the most vulnerable, unsettled feeling I've ever experienced.

So this is why I needed to find your blog. I've known I'm not the only one with struggles like these, but never really got it until I spent time with your writing...and that of your readers. I don't feel any better, less lonely, or any different frankly. I do see, however, that I'm not so unique.

I'd ask your advice, but... Well, but nothing. I'll ask: do you have any thoughts for me?

After my first reading of this reader's exceptionally well written email I felt overwhelmed. Just like the poor guy himself, no doubt, because he's suddenly got so many difficult issues in his life. So I sent him an immediate reply, telling him that since it would be a few weeks until I'd be able to post his email, I thought he should get a counselor so that he could start work on everything immediately. Within a day I got his reply:

I'm a step ahead of you. Already have a counselor, a good one. And you're right, his services right now are essential. The other day, in fact, I was discussing with him having to stop, so I could save up cash for an expected move-out. "I can't let you do that," he said. "It would be unethical for me to let you go." So at least I've got that.

Thanks for providing the platform you do, and for your words of counsel. It's clear you're a good man, and I think your blog provides an important voice out there.

It strikes me that this reader has hit a classic mid-life crisis. There's nothing to be ashamed of there, it happens to lots of guys when the natural path from school to college to job and boyfriend peters out, and with potentially more than half one's life left the next step is unclear. Indeed, long time readers here will know that it happened to me too, in connection with ex-boyfriend S.

One puzzling thing here is the originally blasé attitude of C, his boyfriend of 15 years. I can't help wondering whether C is unhappy with their relationship, and might already be prepared to see it end, especially if he doesn't need to take the blame for it ending. Indeed, perhaps he's so relaxed about the situation because he has another lover? If nothing else, C's reaction proves that their current relationship has to change. Even if C doesn't mind having an open relationship with the reader, the possibility of a split after 15 years should have provoked a much stronger reaction. To put it another way, a relationship which can be dissolved so easily isn't much of a relationship anyway!

It's possible that work has turned slightly sour for the reader because of the problems in his personal life, which might be causing him to under-perform somehow. In many jobs, one's only as good as the last project that one worked on, so if a project is badly received by one's colleagues it can it can easily put one out of favour. Of course, work can have a detrimental effect on one's personal life too, but one's boyfriend, friends and family have to be more important than one's work, so my recommendation would be to come to some kind of resolution of those issues first before worrying about work. Indeed, the confidence which the reader should gain if he is able to resolve the issues in his personal life could well help him get back on top of his work again.

The "bed death" phrase is a good one and it's an unsatisfactory situation. If that happens to a couple of guys in a relationship, if their relationship is healthy they should eventually realise that they need to discuss it, and either try and re-invigorate their sex life, open up their relationship, or separate. So without that interaction between the reader and his boyfriend C, I reckon that something like the reader's current crisis was always going to happen eventually. In that sense, there's nothing special about the 'personal trainer' B, he just happens to be the guy that's triggered what would always have happened anyway.

I find it hard to tell from the reader's description of the break-up what B's intentions really were, but it doesn't sound like their relationship is going anywhere. From the reader's description of the current situation between him and B, I reckon that it'll be hard to re-ignite their combustible passion. Even so the reader has much to thank B for, because he's been the catalyst for the reader to realise that there are unspoken issues in his relationship with his boyfriend C that need to be resolved one way or the other. On top of that, B's also proved to the reader that he's still a very marketable commodity, should he need to find another boyfriend at some point.

So I reckon that the fundamental issue that needs focus is the reader's relationship with C. There are issues there that need to be resolved, one way or the other. Indeed, the resolution of the issues in his existing relationship should naturally point the way in terms of resolving all the other issues. And regarding B, it could well be that he won't be very important going forward.

Do any other readers have any thoughts in this situation.

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Rafidan The Political Committee Baghdad The Republic of Iraq
Statement in Response to President Obamas Remarks made on the 27th or February 2009 regarding the proclaimed ending to the occupation of The Republic of Iraq.
Good Evening,

In Respect to the remarks of President Barak Hussain Obama, The president of the United States of America. The Political Committee of a number of factions in the Iraqi Resistance, mainly the factions present in our front, respond with our point of view on the contents of his speech.

Over the last four months, as the battle of our people continues to free Iraq of all foreign occupation. We have been studying the movements on the ground as well as analyzing the intelligence in order to assess the next strategy that the US administration will take under the leadership of the new presidency.

We had formulated our own plan of action based on the above mentioned, but have chosen to give the new president enough time to gather his thoughts and have a suitable amount of reports briefings that would give him also a good picture of the daily developments on the ground.

President Obama, After listening to your speech on the 27th of February 2009, in which you declared your general and public understanding of the ongoing war against our people, and gave your military and the honorable people of the United States brief points on your intentions in our country, we felt the spirit of the speech that your predecessor President JFK gave on the 20th of January 1961, on his inaugural address. In this speech, he offered a turbulent world, a way out of tensions and paid with his own blood for challenging the interests of those in your consecutive governments who hold the true keys to power. Those who would do anything to preserve their interests, wealth, power to create wars conflict.

We mention this with great honesty in hope to spread awareness and remembrance that a new Caesar may be betrayed, by his own, if he chooses to follow a different path. We do believe, on the other hand, that the spirit of the speech was well chosen.

We have listened well to your economic plans for your country released before this speech as well, and as ambitious as it may seem, we believe that if intentions are genuine within your congress, a considerable number of what you seek will eventually be fulfilled, but in case of failure, the republicans will be looking for a scapegoat to relate all their failures to. In this case it would be your administration. This will guarantee them a fast comeback.

You have inherited a nation at war, a failed economy, and a desperate people who are bearing the full brunt of an economic crisis that was not of their making. As well as thousands of young men dead and handicapped.


We have inherited a foreign occupation, endless counts of innocent dead, injured, and handicapped, millions of refugees, in essence, Mr. President, the complete and planned disintegration of our nation and people.

We believe that the funds wasted in this war would have been more useful if it were spent on research to develop alternative energy, which no doubt would have reduced energy conflicts, cures for cancer, agricultural solutions to prevent worldwide poverty, advancements to develop Africa, where people still die of starvation and intentional neglect. Endless causes, all in need of immediate attention.


By the will of God almighty, the resilience of our men, and the patience of our humble people, we have so far managed to halt and render useless all imperialist agendas set for Iraq and the region in whole. Simply by choosing to resist occupation, a right guaranteed by God first and then by international conventions to all men. A right your countrys policies continue to disrespect and dishonor, in clear example to state sponsored Terrorism.

You have spoken to our people in part of your speech, and we thank you for these words, you have displayed a far better understanding our nation, than your predecessor, who preferred to dive deep into the oceans of illiteracy and ignorance. Despite the fact that you did not mention the Iraqi resistance in your speech, and chose to label us as terrorists along with those who arrived with your troops, we will set that aside for now, and mention a few facts for the record.

1- The people of Iraq whom you addressed, in all their sects colors and religions, refuse your occupation, and those who accept it, are those who benefit from it.
2- The Iraqis you addressed, as we truly hope, are not the ones who bathe in the riches of treason, behind your walls of the green zone, nor are they the likes of Ahmed Al Chalabi, whom your previous government conspired with and his likes from the dark alleys of 5 star hotels in the US and Europe prior to your occupation.
3- The Iraqi people you talked to, are those who never invited your occupation, and were trying their best to survive on what was possible, under the criminal sanctions that went on for 13 years only to be crowned with a foreign occupation, unmatched in criminal acts, in todays modern world.

President Obama, The suffering, that our people had to go through is beyond comprehension. And the endless crimes of your troops as well as that of neighboring countries, cannot simply be undone or dismissed, nor can they be brushed under the carpet. Your troops still occupy the land and kill the innocent, that is why we can only address you as the president of an occupying nation.

The Iraqi People are disappointed in your plan. They expect your troops to leave our country in full and not in part. Our people, seek a complete end of occupation and not the fulfillment of a strategic treaty that was rushed against the will of our people, in the last few days of your predecessor.

Our people, as well as the majority of people around the world, and in your country, want to see the last president be presented to an international war crime tribunal for all the crimes he has committed in the name of your country, only to benefit those who brought him to power in the first place.

We have never invited your occupation, nor have we asked your country to steal our countrys resources to benefit your corporations and to those neighboring states which historically fall under your influence. We have never asked you for your precious blood or ours, to us, all blood is precious even that of the your soldiers sent by your government to die not knowing what they were truly fighting for. This has to be addressed to the man who started this war, and is hiding now in Texas, while you try to undo his damage.

We the Iraqi People and their resistance demand the following:

1- The fulfillment of all the conditions presented to your government through the mediators you
Sent in 2006.
2- The hand over of all the traitors Collaborators in the green zone to the Iraqi people where
They will be dealt with as any nation would do with in cases of high treason.
3- The full just compensation for our people for the losses they have suffered.
4- The halting of all compensations paid to those who fall under your umbrella in the region from the resources of our people.
5- The return of all land stolen from our country.
6- The departure of all foreign corporations mainly in the sectors of energy, communication, infrastructure rebuilding, specifically those linked to Neocon interests. Our people are more than qualified to rebuild and operate our institutions.
7- The hand over of all mercenaries accused of killing innocent civilians mainly security contractors in Black Water and their CEO to be tried for murder.
8- All foreign advisors are to leave Iraq with your troops.


9- The dismantling of all militias equipped by your country and Iran together to shift the nature of battle towards the sectarian nature in order to allow your troops to concentrate on the major resistance activities in the central region of Iraq.
10- The halting of all support to the sectarian government elected in the orchestrated elections in the green zone.
11- The reduction of the influence of your Persian allies in Iraq which your previous government worked with in close conjunction and who continue to fund Al Qaeda on behalf of your intelligence agencys behalf.
12- The return to the old constitution of a unified Iraq. And the Upholding of new elections
Within 6 months of the resistance taking power of the nation, this will be supervised,
By must be conducted in the presence of a number of credible international monitors. Not the ones
Sponsored by the CIA.
13- Cities and provinces are to be handed over one by one starting with the four main cities and airports of Baghdad, Basra, then Mosul and Kirkuk in the same order. The rest will fall immediately in our hands. The borders will have other arrangements.

The list goes on, but the intention is to give you an idea of what we pledged our people to achieve. In return for our peoples demands, we will cease to attack all occupation forces withdrawing to the south and beyond the border post of Safwan.

Without these straightforward moves on your part, we regret to inform you that the resistance of the people of Iraq will continue until that last boot of US/British/Persian occupation is thrown across the borders of our country.

If you choose change as you claim, then you must have reached the conclusion that to continue dealing with the same people your predecessor appointed to fulfill his dirty work, will fail to deliver positive results for both our people. It is not the thieves of the green zone who brought the defeat of your military.

You must search further for the honest Iraqis and from the ranks of our people and not those of your collaborators to achieve a just solution. You can also recognize the right for the Iraqi people to resist and publicly ask for our advice and representation. The Iraqi people intend to be masters of their own house as they always have, and by following the plan you have declared, you have not yet fully understood Iraq well.

There are those who will claim, that a quick withdrawal from Iraq will cause civil war, and that is a possibility, but we would also like to clarify that the forces of the puppet government which has been equipped to defeat the resistance will not stand ground, nor will they block our efforts to liberate our cities one by one if we had to, and all the efforts of your collaborators to move to the north and south of the country and create their own federal states have been studied well for their weaknesses and will be crushed within a short period. This is a more realistic scenario. True there will be still the Persian occupation which will offer its militias support, but we know that the US cannot leave the oil rich south to be occupied by Iran, and they would rather see it fall in our hands instead. As it would be giving too much to a close yet not so trust worthy ally, and would deprive your military necessary funds that would support long-term military presence necessary in Iraq and throughout the region. Funds that some in your government think they can still rely on. Funds that your economy can no longer bear in the midst of the turmoil in the globalized economy of your nation, to control the world.

The Iraqi resistance understands well that the US could not continue to sell oil at a high price
of 120 USD/Barrel to cover the costs of its war, as this strengthens old adversaries. And it would be only a matter of time before this tactic backfires on the US foreign policy. But it also understands that the US cannot fund foreign occupation any more without depending on local resources and revenues to cover the expenses. This is the true cause of the change of as you named it President Obama.

With oil prices falling to their true realistic market values, the winter ending in the consuming economies, the oil prices should fall to 30 USD plus mark, which is also effecting the local economies of your allies in the region, as anything below 55 USD per barrel, is already becoming a burden on these


economies, which in turn can no longer assist to their full potential in funding and supporting the costs of US aggression in the Region.

The Declining of oil revenues, which we truly thank you for mentioning in your speech, will make it more difficult to fund your militarys operations in Iraq, and that is why the numbers of your troops is to be reduced. To match the income predicted from the oil projects sponsored by your corporations in the south and the oil theft operations run by your agent, Hamid Jaffar in the north of Iraq in collaboration with NGO oil of Norway, is what your strategists think is possible.

Yes President Obama, we do agree with you, that the US needs a smarter, more sustainable comprehensive approach, but rest assured, that what your predecessor has failed to achieve with all the military might at his disposal, we will make sure that you will fail to achieve the same goals through the soft hand of the Democratic party.

In fact, it is more logical and practical to follow the alternative energy programs that you have set wisely, to ensure the non reliance of your economy on oil as well as the utilization of advancements and added fruits of R D to employ the unemployed, and support a new and young market for the shift in energy dependence, and in turn end the monopolization of energy, practiced by the corporations that control it and control world political and social stability, than to merely dream of expecting the Iraqi People to hand you over their resources.

We on the other hand intend to nationalize and use our resources to build an alternative energy base our selves and offer our people a life of prosperity, stability, as well as supporting the energy transition of other nations that are oil dependant, a task we truly believe is noble and worthwhile.

The Iraqi Resistance will not accept any short term or long term energy contracts with the US until we ensure that the rights of our people are properly addressed. And within the parameters of relations based on mutual respect first and mutual interests second.

President Obama, It is time that people in Washington understand that there are no shared interest between an occupying tyrant and an oppressed victim of occupation.

Your government would have stayed forever in Iraq if the traitors who conspired with your consecutive administrations had their way in starving the Iraqi people into submission and force them to welcome your occupying troops with flowers as Chalabi promised you. But after three wars and over a decade of sanctions, there were enough honest men to defeat the worlds most powerful army play a major role in destroying the most imperialistic Globalized economy ever developed by expansionary capitalism.

These are the type of people you are speaking to Mr. Obama. And if you were not presented with this reality throughout the briefings that occurred, and understood the true scale of the economic disaster with all the social and geopolitical implications of your military defeat in Iraq, then please allow us to mention a few of the major achievements that the Iraqi Resistance have promised its people and the free people of the world and has delivered:

1- We promised to pin down your troops in Iraq and drain your economy until you admit defeat and withdraw your troops. And this we fulfilled.

2- We promised to halt the US plan for Middle East in full, and prevent the loss of other innocent lives in other neighboring countries, and that we fulfilled.

3- We embraced the war and continue the fight on behalf of all the oppressed world, which not only stood still and watched the massacre of our people and the illegal occupation of our nation, but many of its leaders participated and continue in harming our people inside and outside Iraq and assist in the theft of our resources. This, apart from the support of honest people all around the world,

4- including citizens of your country, who marched day and night to support the cause of Iraqs right to resist, marches that defied the weather, and weathered criminal defiance and ignorance of world politicians. Marches that we will ever be indebt to, and in gratitude in appreciation for. May god bless those people wherever they are. And this we fulfilled and continue to do so.

5- We have understood the nature of international balances of power and most importantly predicted the primitive mind of the occupation and played a major role in forcing the US to increase oil prices in clear desperation for cash. And use that to allow other powers to recover. And the numbers never lied, this we also fulfilled.

6- The Iraqi People wrote a new chapter in Urban warfare, and invented the art of remote combat, and in turn gave the world lessons and set a new standard in how to defeat the worlds most powerful army. In this, the most dangerous achievement that threatens US global influence is that all the oppressed people who suffer from negative US influence, can use this experience to free themselves as well. This also has been delivered.

7- The Resistance has already drafted its 2, 5 and 10 year plan to engage Iraq in rebuilding programs that will set a new standard for development in the Region and restore Iraq to its rightfully earned place in world politics and positive human development. This while maintaining Iraqs isolation from harmful neighboring countries at the same time, these plans was prepared and drafted in the early months of 2007 and are ready to implement once we see the end of your occupation.

8- The resistance created a new battle field and utilized every tool available to break free of the corporate media and tell, inform, and educate the world of the true nature of the struggle, and present every curious man and woman daily reports and videos of your militarys defeat and in every language possible. People from all over the world, chose out of their own free will and time, people of different religions and backgrounds chose to be soldiers of the cyber wars and translated all what we had to tell, asking nothing in return but the truth. The true casualties of your war are yet to be declared. (We refer to the green card soldiers)

9- The resistance has sparked not only the collapse of the US economy, but also caused the domino effect and the destruction of your fine tuned and delicate Globalized economy, and forced the return to national economic protection, and the rights of local and regional economies to grow and ensure a decent life and practice their right to develop as well. All your efforts to restore the globalized economy will deliver nothing of value, and puppet governments that maintain your oversight of world resources will eventually fall, one after the other, as their faults will be more evident to their average citizens, and that is why you are now receiving daily reports, from the CIA about the world economy.

ALL THE ABOVE, AND YOU STILL CHOOSE TO IGNORE THE RESISTANCE OF THE IRAQI PEOPLE AND THE RESISTANCE OF THE GLOBAL ALLIANCE OF THE FREE, WHICH WE INTENT TO PROPOSE TO THE WORLD AS THE NEXT STAGE OF FREEING THE PLANET FROM YOUR DOMINENCE WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT.

ALL THIS SAID, AND THE GLOBAL MEDIA WHICH YOU STILL MAINTAIN CONTROL OVER STILL LABELS FREE PEOPLE AS TERRORISTS AND EQUALS THE RESISTANCE OF OCCUPATION WITH CRIMINAL ACTS OF STRIKING CIVILIANS IN BUILDING AND TERRORISING THE LIVES OF THE INNOCENT.

TRULY IRONIC !! Nevertheless represents the true state of shock you policy makers have reached. But all can be reversed if you truly believe in Change Mr. President.

The resistance along with the votes of the peace loving people in your country and choice of the world
Who brought you to power, are more than capable to pull you down and defeat your new strategy, if you choose to lie to them and follow the plans of your predecessor.


You must understand that the time when your foreign policy bullied and bribed people into submission is over and for a considerable time. And your politicians and strategists have to understand that to be accepted as a superpower you must first learn to speak to the world with modesty and respect that others in this planet, also have the right to provide for their families a decent life, the right to food and water, the right to education and knowledge, the right to industry and employment, and free from your corporate despotism.

We in the Iraqi resistance, renew our pledge to our people and to our brothers and sisters in the global family, to continue the fight and struggle to free Iraq and give our allies the chance to follow suite.

While you were preparing your new strategy in leaving the streets and highways of Iraq to your collaborators, and hiding your troops behind the walls of the castles and green zones you have prepared for your minimized long term presence, we have been preparing to address your new tactics and will deal with them in the proper manner.

Remember, that hiding behind and holding castles is no longer sustainable in modern warfare!

Your finest fighting force as you name it, is up against the most witty, resilient innovative self-propelled resistance honorable humanity has ever presented. Rest assured that we are not impressed with your plan and will follow your movements on the ground and cross examine them to your declared intentions and daily economic reports. There is no such thing as friendly occupation, and we advise you to revise your plans to vacate Iraq at a time suitable for our people and not suitable for your agents in the green zone.

And if you need to talk to honest Iraqis, then you know very well, where to find them. John F Kennedy also said Let us never negotiate out of fear, but never fear to negotiate

You choose to negotiate with all the parties that worked for your predecessor and have caused all this harm, yet you choose to ignore the only true party that can offer you a decent outcome.

Good Luck President Obama!

Radfidan
The Political Committee
Baghdad The Republic of Iraq

The 3rd of Rabi' Awwal 1430 H
The 28th of February 2009 M
http://www.albasrah.

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Being single isnt easy no matter where you live. Everyone complains. Being single here is a trip. Especially after being single for so long in California. San Francisco - The Bay Area has the highest rate of singles in the US. There are more single people there than anywhere else. The single life style is more accepted, and has a unique place. You dont really realize it until you leave there.
No matter where you live you complain. I meet women from all over the world and we all complain about the same thing - men. It doesnt matter where they are from. France, Italy, Canada, Sweden, they complain. Women come here and they think the men are so wonderful. They probably are - for two weeks. Then you get to know them. It is the same with men everywhere.
One thing though, living here, really taught me to appreciate the men in the U.S. (I hear American women gagging everywhere reading this blog post.) In the U.S. or the Bay Area, I know that I was valued for more than how I looked. Here women for the most part are still considered property and are still valued for their looks and how they appear.
They dont get the positive reinforcement that North American and European women get. The womens movement is just being born here. Women here are now just becoming financially independent. Hopefully they will soon have positive female role models. Women place all their self-esteem on their looks. Have you ever seen a place with so many beauty salons, places to get waxed, nails done, and many other beauty treatments?
Yes men are visual creatures. But I do know that most men in the US want a woman who is independent financially, emotionally, and mentally. They want someone who is an intellectual equal. Here? Ayyee.... If needy was a nightmare in California, it is a plus here. I still dont get it and really its OK. It is another culture.
So how does that play out in the dating game? Different. When I lived in California you could pretty much meet men where ever you wanted. You could meet them online, you could meet them on the street. Hey, the Marina Safeway is famous for singles meeting on Friday nights. There are singles dating services, video dating services, and singles parties.
Here all of that is new and most of the time it is weird or it makes good blog posts. That is because here, it is still considered best to meet someone by being introduced to them. There is still a stigma to meeting people in less traditional ways unless you are a vedette or rich and famous and then it doesnt matter.
Once when I lived in Oakland I was looking at olive oils in Safeway. A really good looking guy started looking at the olive oils with me. He started a conversation with me about which brand did I use and why, which eventually led to a conversation about cooking, which in the end led to an invitation for dinner and a possible joint cooking date. He gave me his card and told me to call. I did, and we dated for several months. He was a totally nice guy.
And the same thing happening here.... One day I was in Jumbo looking at olive oils when this guy appeared in my aisle. Que linda ojos tenis. he says to me. I sort of politely ignore him because I dont want to encourage him. Te gusta aceite de olivos? he asks me. (Now this is sort of a stupid question because why would I be looking at olive oil if I didnt like it?) I shake my head. I have learned that encouraging men in these situations is usually not a good idea. He however in his typical Argentine male fashion is not fazed at all and continues Que marca te gusta mas? Finally I tell him I like the cheapest brand they have hoping it will disgust him.
Sos extranjera, pense que sos de aca, de donde sos? Ah yes, I get this about 5 times a day too. I tell him I live here, but I am from the U.S. This of course opens the doors for 500 questions he can ask me and leaves no room for me to ask him questions. I do notice he is busily looking around. Then he moves in and asks me for my phone number. I laugh and tell him no. Porque no? he demands. Quiero cocinar para vos. he tells me. I slowly move up the aisle. TIenes MSN? he asks, again I decline. Sos divina, quiero conocerte. He smiles. I am finally able to make my get away to another aisle.
About 10 minutes later I see him pushing the cart with...oh my, another woman. What a surprise. He winks at me. Slime bag. I move right by him and ignore him. Later he finds me in another aisle and again asks me for my MSN. I tell him to go away. It is my sister. he insists. Yeah right.
Another time when I lived in California I was early for an appointment I decided to hang in Starbucks. I ended up talking to this guy who was working on his computer. We had nice conversation. He was really cute. We exchanged cards, emailed each other, and ended up dating for 6 months. He was a producer for a video game company and loads of fun.
One time here I was early for a doctors appointment in Martinez. I went to sit in Cafe Martinez. The cute guy across from me smiled. I smiled back. I know this is not a good thing to do, but whatever. Finally he came over with a lame excuse about the newspaper and ended up sitting down. Sos extranjera! he says to me. Pense que sos de aca, de donde sos? he asks me. I tell him the whole story, American, I live here, blah, blah, blah. Sometimes I feel like I should just have it all printed out on a piece of paper and give it to them.
Of course he wants to know if I am a) married or b) have a boyfriend. He wants my phone number, my email and/or my msn. He of course does not have a home phone, is not married, and does not have a girlfriend, and works in a doing as he is a I have to go now.
We wont talk about the cute guy I met walking Roxie (when she was alive) who seemed like a nice guy. We met for coffee in the plaza. Not more than two minutes into the he grabbed me and tried to stick his tongue down my throat and then wanted to know what the hell was wrong with me. My friends told me what did I expect since I met him on the street....oh, he was a lawyer. So much for sexual harassment.
Meeting guys the same way as I did in California doesnt seem to work here. So where do you meet them? You have to be creative. All my girlfriends complain. The ones that dance tango still hold out hope that they are going to find that magic man in the milonga. You know, the one with the great job, good looking, and dances well. Good luck. The others just dream. I keep telling them they need to be proactive.
They have mixers here. All kinds. You just have to find the ones that work for you. I try them all. Well maybe not all, but at least I go. I just cannot get the amigas to go. They say they will, but in the end they always cancel. They are too afraid of being rejected. They have visions of these parties being full of half dressed gorgeous 25 year old girls with perfect faces and bodies with all the men lusting after them. They see themselves as being old and not being desirable. Nothing could be further than the truth.
I only went to one event where I was probably the oldest person there. Well maybe not, but I felt that way. I know I didnt look it, but I felt it. I stayed for maybe an hour and then went to a milonga. When my friends asked me how it was, they gave me that knowing look. You see, they always think those parties are going to be full of gorgeous 25 year old girls with perfect bodies and faces. Its not true. But they wont even take a chance.
I guess compared to most of my friends I date a lot. Not to me. I guess I date interesting guys. Since they only go to milongas, or hang out in living rooms, they really are not going to meet many very interesting men. You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince. I tell them. Only they dont want to kiss anyone. Well I am not exactly kissing all those frogs, but at least I am having coffee with them. I like to say I have my first and last date at the same time. I joke around and say it more efficient.
I always tell them about these parties. Next week is Internations I tell them. You remember that is where I met my great friend David and also Dany the guy I dated for 3 weeks. Three weeks is better than nothing and he is still my friend, sort of, and I had fun. The day of the Internations party each one of the them texts me that they cannot come with some lame excuse. I go myself.
I have a great time. I meet lots of people. No new men. I see some old friends. I want to stay later but I cannot. I have too much to do the next day. When I see my friends I get the solemn face and Como estuvo la fiesta? Once again they are shocked when I tell them it was great. Once again they were expecting it to be ravishing 25 year olds with perfect bodies and faces with all the men lusting after them. It is so sad that they feel this way. I tell them that there were people there of all ages with all kinds of bodies and faces.
Last week I tried another new party. I had heard this one was all young people. The host told me no, that it was great people and that I should please come. Every month I have had an excuse, and finally this month I decided to go. I had a blast. A party where I could dance everything BUT tango. I danced salsa, hip hop, swing, and who knows what. One guy called me a If he only knew how old I was. Oh my God, I had so much fun. I cant remember the last time I danced so much.
I ended up talking all night to a guy that owns a real estate company. He was very interesting. He has traveled all over the world, he is a champion wind surfer. At the end of the night he invited me for Chinese food next week. I said. he says to me. I like you, you are different. Yeah, we will see, because you know, my being different is usually the problem.
My friend David tells me to just be myself and not worry about what it is like to date here. He should talk. It is just as difficult for him as it is for me. It is too bad he is so young. This has been the challenge for me. Dating. Single I dont mind. Dating..that is another thing all together. I just wish I could get the amigas to go out there with me.

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About Me
I'm slim brown eyes warm blonde (thats the colour :) I have a very positive outlook on life and a great sense of humour and down to earth nature I like tranquil moments and drama free lifestyle. I don't do the club or pub circuit. I made error in profile I cant seem to amend I am not Libra I am Sagitarrius so December Lady even though most guys loathe start signs just prefer honesty ... I am a real outdoors person I do like guys who are able to communicate on all levels. I love the sea the oceans boats in fact everything to do with the coast and have been blessed to see white sands and eventually I hope to live by the sea. Here in UK the weather makes it a bit unpredictable and the beaches are not quite as pretty as the ones overseas. I prefer more intimate one 2 one and not loud noisy places but enjoy the odd live gig, Jazz, Soul, R 'n' B Gospel Blues if anyone good is playing live. Love mellow Jazz and could be enticed into a coffee shop or wine bar ... the kind with sofas that play that mellow Jazz. I enjoy anywhere sunday markets, drive to the coast summertime, weekends away, travel to sunny climates in winter, cinema, comedy shows and so much more plus watching a great DVD with the right man ... especially in cooler months I am a bit of a film fanatic and anything from chick flicks to thrillers. I'm fun to be around and like a man who is not afraid to show his affections.
Read more about me
What I'm Looking For
I am looking for mature intelligent genuine man who is 39-55 who is looking for a relationship, nothing casual thanks. Of course thats not to say that if you reply we would be compatible but a photo and some info would help a lot. I like tall men of Carib parentage or African American. You would be old skool man 39 -55 but young at heart energetic with caring nature and someone who respects woman. Hopefully you enjoy driving, I do, so its nice to take turns. I do enjoy travel and now looking for more USA and Caribbean destinations so do we share similar interests? We cant match exactly remember the old saying chalk cheese and opposites attract photo welcome and its not about looks its nice to put face to name, not about Mr Perfect ... just perfect for me. My pics are simply holiday snaps taken this year in Greek Islands ~ sorry about the shades.

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Slumdog Millionaire - the feelgood film hit of the year or 'poverty porn'? Celebration or exploitation? Not gritty enough or too gritty? No matter the controversies surrounding Danny Boyle's award-winning film, there's one thing everybody agrees on: for its 18-year-old star, Dev Patel, Bafta nomination is just the beginning.
With his nomination for best actor in the Baftas, Dev Patel is going head-to-head with Brad Pitt. Such is his rapid rise he is staying in a suite at Mumbai's J W Marriott, the five-star hotel favoured by Bollywood stars, with its spas and infinity pools looking out over the Arabian Sea.
Given that he has never had any formal training as an actor, his performance in Slumdog Millionaire, the film that propelled him into award contention among Hollywood superstars, seems precociously assured and nuanced. There is a real stillness and depth, which may be why acting legends such as Clint Eastwood and Sir Ben Kingsley have been queuing up to praise him and shake his hand. Critics and awards judges, meanwhile, have been running out of superlatives. One consensus seems to be that he is 'a natural'.
Modestly, he attributes his being cast to pure luck.
Controversy and acclaim, acclaim and controversy: one or the other can make for a decent showing at the box office. But add them together and you have something combustible, something rare, a cultural phenomenon. Such is Slumdog Millionaire, a film about a boy from the slums of Mumbai who is one question away from winning the Hindi version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? When arrested on suspicion of cheating, he tells the police chief the tragicomic story of his life on the streets, and of the girl he loved and lost. By turns savage and sentimental, his flashbacks explain how he knew the answers.
The momentum for this film began a few weeks ago when it won four Golden Globes. Then came 11 Bafta nominations, with the winners to be announced tonight. Slumdog, as it is now customarily shortened, looks set to sweep all before it at the Oscars later this month, with 10 nominations.
Yet barely a day goes by without the film finding itself mired in a new controversy. Reports that the eight-year-old actors in the film were exploited, or rather, paid a pittance before being returned to the slums, made the front pages the criticism seemingly tapping into perceptions of Western paternalism and guilt. The following day, there were riots, with hundreds of protesters in Bihar state's capital, Patna, clashing with police, tearing down posters and ransacking a cinema after objecting to the 'humiliating' word 'dog' in the title.
And while for some Indians, the affluent ones, at least, Slumdog is too gritty a negative film that dwells on the poverty of modern India and ignores the prosperity for others it is not gritty enough, glossing over the grim realities of slum life to make audiences feel better about themselves (they even have slum tours there now). Then there are those who resent the film for trading in clichés and national stereotypes, for its unflattering portrayal of Indian life, rich and poor.
They argue that this is an India seen through Western eyes after all, not only is the director British (Danny Boyle, best known for Trainspotting) but also the screenwriter (Simon Beaufoy, creator of The Full Monty) and Patel, the 18-year-old star of the film. He's from north-west London, where he still lives with his parents.
Whatever the validity of these accusations, this film is proof of one old saw: that there is no such thing as bad publicity. And its success has happened with remarkable speed, breaking records with the largest UK box office increase on the second weekend of release. Such is the pace of its world domination, indeed, when I ring Dev Patel in Mumbai the morning after the premiere there, he has not heard that Slumdog is number one at the British box office. 'No way, man!' he says. 'Wicked.'
The word 'man' punctuates many of his sentences, along with 'you know' and 'wicked'. He's young. Was 17 when filming began last year. At the time of casting, indeed, he was still a pupil at Whitmore High School, Harrow.
He also has the teenager's habit of raising his intonation at the end of a sentence, turning statements into questions. He is articulate, though, with a low and measured delivery and a dry sense of humour. His defining characteristic, he tells me, is that he can't sit still. And when at a club, he is the one standing at the back sipping his drink, not knowing quite what to do with himself. He also describes himself as bewildered and star-struck at the moment, which is fair enough.
He thought the premiere in Mumbai was 'wicked', by the way, partly because traditional Indian drummers turned up and began playing. The cast did an improvised bhangra dance down the red carpet. 'We really partied, man. There were big crowds. Lots of flashbulbs.' There were also about 25 protesters from the slums. I ask whether he picked up on any of the negative reaction. 'There was none that I could see. There is a lot of buzz about the film here because it's the first Western film to come out of Mumbai. Since it got the Golden Globes and the Bafta and Oscar nominations people feel really proud of it here. They want to see it. It's got them talking. It's not the kind of film cinema audiences here are used to. It's not Bollywood, apart from the dance sequence that comes with the closing credits.'
That choreographed dance scene was filmed on the platforms of Victoria Terminus, the Raj-era station that is a recurring location throughout the film. It is something of a parody of Bollywood, untypical of the European mood and style of the rest of the film. Bollywood movies are an acquired taste for Westerners, I suggest. What does he make of them?
'Actually, I love them. I've grown up around them. There was always one on at my grandmother's house. I loved the big fight sequences and dance sequences when I was a kid but then I grew out of it a bit in my early teens. Recently I've got back into them.' He's not sure if he would like to appear in one, however. 'Don't get me wrong though. I love this place. I would love to come back here and film something. I've fallen in love with Mumbai. It is magical.'
Patel thinks it unfair to criticise Slumdog for being unrealistic. 'It has never claimed to be a documentary. It is a movie. It is entertainment. I spent five months out here filming and really got a chance to see the slums close up and I think the film depicts them accurately enough. Mumbai really is a city of extreme contrasts. If you step out of a five-star hotel here you can be facing a slum. You sense this massive tide of humanity. The film has caught the energy and pace of Mumbai. As soon as I stepped off the plane I felt I was thrown into it. The intense wall of heat. The noise. The colours. The air smells different. Saffron and sewers. You do get used to it. And you do get numbed to the poverty.'
The film depicts slum dwellers as cheerful, but is this a cosy myth perpetuated by Western tourists?
'No, that really was my impression. The most striking thing is how happy people are in the slums. They don't seem depressed. They don't pity themselves. They are communities that flourish on their own. They elect their own head of the slum. Such a sense of community, all working together to make their slum a better slum.'
As a political campaign slogan 'make your slum a better slum' might need some work, but I take his point. Does he sense any resentment that he is a British actor taking this lead, rather than an Indian one? 'Before I came out here for this premiere that was my biggest worry, that people would think me an impostor. But everyone has been nice so far. People are looking past my background and focusing on the character I play.'
His mentor, he says, is Danny Boyle, the man who 'discovered' Ewan McGregor. What advice has the director given him? 'Keep things in perspective. If you are put on a pedestal you have further to fall off. I guess this film is selling itself. We don't need to push it too hard.'
Patel felt under considerable pressure to get the Mumbai accent right. Arriving weeks before his scenes were scheduled to shoot, he immersed himself in the atmosphere of the locations in order to absorb the mannerisms and tone.
When filming finished five months later he had what he calls a 'dead period'. 'I didn't know what I was going to do with my life. The tricky thing will be working out how to follow this film up. The next role has to be right. I don't think I should be playing 30-year-old married men yet. It's weird though. No one knew whether this film was going to be a hit or not. It was filmed on what by Hollywood standards was a modest budget.'
Five million dollars, in fact, which perhaps explains why there are no big Hollywood stars in the film, and why the child actors picked from the slums weren't paid much, by industry standards. When I ask to what he attributes the film's mass appeal there is a pause.
'It is the generic underdog story, I think. Jamal, my character, has come from nothing. And everyone loves an underdog. But it also has that rare combination of being able to make you laugh and cry and feel good and feel shocked at the same time. The most enticing thing is the location. Mumbai is like a character and audiences around the world can get a sense of it without spending money on a plane ticket.'
The slums are a character too. Some 800 million of India's population of 1.1 billion are thought to live in them, surviving on less than $2 a day. An estimated 60 per cent of Mumbai's population live in them, the largest being Dharavi. As you fly into Mumbai you get a sense of the scale of it, because it is alongside the airport a sea of blue, plastic-roofed shanties where more than a million people are squeezed together, seemingly poised to wash over the airport in a giant, crashing wave of humanity. In one tableaux, the modern and the ancient India are merged.
At one point Patel's character, Jamal, runs away from the slums with his brother, after their Muslim community is attacked by a Hindu mob and their mother is killed. After this the orphans scavenge on a rubbish dump before being lured to a 'children's home' by a Fagin-like character who later tries to blind one of the boys with acid so he can earn more from his begging. Other scenes include a girl becoming a prostitute, a child crawling through an outside lavatory pit to get a glimpse of his Bollywood film hero, and a boy becoming a hired killer. Small wonder that on the blog of Amitabh Bachchan the biggest star of Indian cinema and the star whose autograph the child crawls through the sewage for the film was criticised for its focus on the country's seedy underworld.
Yet Slumdog has also been called the first film of the Obama era, because it is a feel-good movie with a fairytale ending. I wonder if there is an element, too, of it helping to heal the city of Mumbai after the recent terrorist attack. 'Possibly,' Patel says. 'Restoring the city's confidence, you mean. I was out here for five months and I couldn't believe it when I saw the Victoria station on the news being attacked by terrorists. The heart of it was destroyed. But I got a real sense working here that it is a place of optimism and that it will always bounce back. Things move at a million miles an hour.'
Before filming began Patel did not, he confesses, know much about India. He had first visited the country as a 10-year-old attending a wedding in Gujarat, and wasn't impressed. 'I was bitten by mosquitoes, got the runs, the toilets were holes in the ground. I hated it. But going out eight years later, I really appreciated it.'
I ask about the opening sequence in which his character is tortured by Mumbai police. How has that gone down? 'I don't know what the police made of it. I haven't seen much of that side of Mumbai, but I have read a book called Maximum City by Suketu Mehta and that goes into the interrogation techniques the police use. But this is a movie, people need to take those scenes with a pinch of salt, you know.'
The torture scenes were realistic, though. Was a stunt man used? 'No, that was me. There was a fine line between making it look realistic and it becoming an over-the-top Jim Carrey scene. But it just clicked. We did a pre-shoot in which we searched for locations and the torture scenes were actually my first unofficial day of filming. My introduction to film acting was being slapped and having my head pushed into a bucket of water to simulate drowning. Nice.'
Although Slumdog is his first feature film, Patel had appeared in front of a camera before, as a priapic teenager in Skins, the cult E4 series aimed at teenagers. 'I didn't really know what I was doing in that. I had to learn to pitch my performance to the camera rather than doing it for the benefit of my parents in the front room at home. I look at my performance in Skins now and I cringe.'
His character in Slumdog falls in love; has he ever been in love? 'No, man. I'm too young. I was 17 when I was playing that character and I was having to imagine what it was like to be in love. I guess I got to learn about it in a controlled environment.'
After their first love scene his beautiful co-star, Freida Pinto, told him she felt like a paedophile because of their age difference (she is 24). Does he have a girlfriend now? 'No, no time, man. No time to sleep or eat, let alone have a girlfriend.'
What about the groupie side of film stardom? 'It's crazy,
man, you do get some very clinging people, but usually they are well wishers.'
Diplomatically put. His maturity and confidence is striking. 'I think I have matured. I matured five years in five months during filming. And I think after Skins I was really eager to show I had a different side. The thought that Danny cast me out of all these people gave me confidence.'
Modestly, he attributes his being cast to pure luck. Danny Boyle's daughter happened to be a fan of Skins and suggested Patel. Until that point Boyle had been looking at Indian actors, who were proving too muscular, the wrong physical shape. Young Indian actors tend to work out a lot in the gym, it seems, as that is the look favoured in Bollywood. Patel felt like crying after his audition, thinking it had gone badly. When he went off for a consolation pizza with his mother, it tasted sour. Then the call came.
'As it turned out Danny was looking for someone like me who looks like they grew up in a slum, someone lanky and skinny and not particularly handsome.
'I guess the casting could have gone either way. I believe in fate a bit because of that. I guess I have to. I feel incredibly blessed right now. I'm a bit religious. Not much. Not like my parents, who are practising.'
His parents are Kenyan-born Hindus, his mother a carer, his father an IT consultant. How has his success changed his relationship with them?
'I don't think my relationship with them has changed, actually. That is what keeps me grounded.
'I come out here and live out of a suitcase and I do press and I get treated like an adult, but when I go home I'm treated like a kid again an 18-year-old kid who wants to play with his friends. Still use public transport. Still have a messy room. Still get told off by my parents for not doing the washing up. Still annoy my sister. That's me, you know.'
He says that as far as he knows none of his friends feel envious of his sudden fame.
'No, they are really proud of me. They have been really supportive. It is your peer group that forms your character. If it hadn't been for them, you know, having them to mess about with, and having them encouraging me to become the class clown, then ' He trails off.
'That's why I got a reputation and got dragged into the school play. I wouldn't have thought of it otherwise.'
Drama was his best subject at school. English second best. Did he have a nickname? 'Big Ears. I'm proud to have big ears now, though. I mean, look who's the most powerful man in the world. Barack Obama. Big ears are in fashion.'
Dev Patel is 6ft 1in and has a black belt in Tae Kwon Do; presumably people don't call him nicknames any more. 'I'm harmless. Wouldn't hurt a fly. But they do still call me nicknames, now I'm known as Slumdog.

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