Category Archives: I.B.L.D.

Somebody Hostile: Enchanted LifePath…


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IBLD Website

Date: June 28, 2019

01) International Boy Love Day IBLD Warning June 21 Paedophile Celebration

“International Boy Love Day is another complete disgrace to the human race and all that it beholds. June 21st will mark the 20 year anniversary of IBLD and what a great time for Enchanted LifePath to wade in and piss all over the parade by alerting as many people as possible to this day of disaster with a sharp and swift character assassination of anyone associated to IBLD.

IBLD is a date for pedophiles to celebrate their disturbing desires and even encourage others to do so on June or December 21st but they have since moved on from it being just dates for them to remember and be openly disgusting as they now have their own website.

The website claims they have been “continuously serving responsible boy love since July 1998” and it also continues in the same grovelling theme.

It states: “International Boy-Love Day is a day of observance, taken part in by those who appreciate, support and celebrate loving relationships with boys. It is also a day of commemoration and reflection for many, focusing on the social plight of those who are naturally inclined to love boys.

This is a day of mutual dignity…a day of self awareness…a day of belonging”.

The horror gets worse as the website also has a “Peer Support Exchange” designed for “Finding Real-Life Friendships”

Hello, Enchanted Lifepath…

You are clearly mixing parts of the EQF IBLD Website, with parts of the SafeHaven IBLD Website…both of which are distinctly separate websites…created and maintained by two different people.

Most people are not going to realize this [possibly, including yourself], because they lack a familiarity with either/both websites…and they lack a familiarity with the history of IBLD.

In fact, the SafeHaven website [the one with the Peer Support Exchange] ceased operation a year or so back.

It appears most of the quotes you are taking, are from my EQF IBLD website.

It’s poor form [and not on the level], to confuse issues, resources and people like this.

IBLD Websites:

International BoyLove Day has had websites dedicated to it, ever since shortly before the very first IBLD was celebrated.

I created one such website for the first IBLD…and I had at least one other, I believe the following year…I possibly made others…but they are likely lost.

At the very least…the EQF IBLD Website is my third IBLD website…though, it’s my most thorough and substantive out of them.

The EQF IBLD Website links to other IBLD resources…including the archive of at least one other IBLD Website [“Your IBLD Website”].

There have been a number of us creating and maintaining IBLD websites, all along…The EQF IBLD Website is hardly the first…At something like five years old, it’s probably just the most recent IBLD website of any substance.

FBI Propaganda:

This has been archived, acknowledged and responded to.

That “The FBI published this information in the public domain on January 31st, 2007. The same year Madeleine McCann went missing.”, is entirely irrelevant to the observance of IBLD.

It is noted that you decided to include mention of an unrelated, well known missing child investigation, for no apparent reason.

That is a tainting practice…Something avoided by people of integrity.

“Secret” Symbols:

Scruffy Lad was an artist and a BoyLover, who made art for maybe the first dozen IBLD observations.

IBLD has always been out in the open…We’ve defined, discussed and explained everything out in the open.

I have no idea where you are getting the notion, that any kind of hidden messages or symbols are associated with IBLD.

Have you done any actual research into this, or are you just cobbling a bunch of stuff together and publishing it?

You don’t appear to have a working familiarity with IBLD.

Alice Day:

You’ve also spent a chunk of your post, discussing Alice Day and things said by Girl Lovers…

…That is off topic.

Roblox:

You are talking about yet another thing, which is entirely unrelated to IBLD.

Again…You are tainting.

Why don’t you actually discuss MAP issues with actual MAP’s, instead of carelessly throwing together a hodgepodge of misinformation and unrelated facts?


A YouTube video they made

I’ve only watched seven minutes of this, so far…

This guy doesn’t even appear to understand, that there is more than one website [he clicked a link to BoyWiki, and left the EQF IBLD website, but acts oblivious].

I’ll watch the entire thing…but thus far, this video is really convoluted…and hasn’t offered anything of substance to respond to…just a bunch of your typical outrage culture, and things to correct and clarify.

If I have anything to add, I’ll make another post in this series.

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Happy Summer IBLD, 2019!…

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IBLD Website

Date: June 21, 2019

01) Video: IBLD 2018 (2019) 20 Years

Happy International BoyLove Day!

Forgive the brevity of this post…it’s going to be another short IBLD post.

However…I did happen to finally get the EQF IBLD 20 year anniversary video done and uploaded.

I hope it is satisfactory, and pleases.

It’s located at the above link.

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Warning: www.ibld.net Is No Longer In Trustworthy Ownership…


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IBLD Website

Date: January 06, 2019

Let it be known, I’ve removed the “International BoyLove Day!” [www.ibld.net] link from the EQF IBLD website.

This domain is now redirecting people to a malicious website.

It would be best for all who have links to the old International BoyLove Day! website, to remove those links.

I’m positive I have Dave’s IBLD website archived somewhere…I’ll look into rebuilding it, and putting it into the IBLD History section…Though, I can make no promises, on how quickly this will happen.

– Steve

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Happy IBLD 2018! [20 Years]…


IBLD
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IBLD Website

Date: December 21, 2018

01) The Allen Ginsberg Project

Something you might find interesting, is The Allen Ginsberg Project…

…Allen Ginsberg was a member of NAMBLA…and is considered to have been one of the USA’s most famous, most successful and most loved BoyLovers.



As discussed here…please feel free to send [or share with] me, any picture[s] you have taken of your burning blue candle…I will publish them all here on this blog…maybe even put them into a video…no promises…just “maybe”…

Note: This is a tad embarrassing, but it seems e4ward.com has ceased forwarding attached files.

Would it be imposing to much, to ask that anyone interested use a website like https://imgur.com/ and send me the url?

You don’t have to register for an account, or anything. You’ll get a url upon uploading a file…You can e-mail that url to me, at the address below.

Sorry for any inconvenience!

2f3dvmbv9j@eqfnetwork.e4ward.com

I’ve successfully received said picture[s] in the past, through this address…Alternatively, you can upload your picture somewhere, and send me the URL via the contact page.

Also, please send some sort of identifying handle [nickname], so I know who to say sent it…or specify if you want to be anonymous.

20 Year Anniversary of IBLD:

Today marks the twenty year anniversary of International BoyLove Day!

I don’t know how many of us thought we’d be looking back, twenty years later…and still holding this tradition faithfully…But, here we are!…

To people new to this day of commemoration…welcome!

To all who’ve been with us before…welcome back!

I hope this is a wonderful day for all.

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Some Thoughts on IBLD…


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IBLD Website

Date: December 20, 2018

01) International BOYLOVE DAY

Andrew13 is right…

Girl-Lovers did the smart thing for Alice Day, in picking one specific date and sticking with that…

…But, we are BoyLovers…so, we had to dump on layer after layer of complexity…to the point of ludicrousy…

Speaking as one of the few people to have and maintain an IBLD website…it’s enough of a chore, just having to track down the yearly solstice dates…without having to figure out what Saturday is supposed to go along with it…or whether or not the BoyLove community has figured out how to mash in yet another layer of variation on the rules…

I primarily went back to recognizing IBLD on the solstices, because I got fed up with the fact that they wouldn’t just leave it alone, instead of forcing it to bounce all over the place…

Some thoughts I’ve had in recent times:

1) I don’t like this idea quite so much…but I’ve thought it might be interesting to call it the International BoyLove Festival…starting on the solstice, and ending on the following Saturday…I mean, it’s a great idea [and actually, I love the concept]…but, lets be real…are we really going to fill several days a year with…what?…Just keeping up with one day can be too much work.

2) It’s the 20 year anniversary of IBLD…which means this is a big one…I’d like to say I have a video to commemorate it done…but I’ve only got the barest of notions, on what to do for it…I’ve barely broken ground…and this holiday season is thrashing the hell out of me…It’s not likely to be done by the 21st…Maybe I’ll aim for summer this time…But it feels wrong, not to have it out on the true 20 year anniversary. Been thinking about it and trying to develop something for at least a year.

My health has really been going south the last couple of years…and it’s hard for me to do these kinds of projects anymore…and it frustrates the hell out of me.

3) Again…20 years it’s been…can we finally come up with distinguishing titles, to differentiate the two [summer and winter] observations?

Maybe each can have it’s own theme?…A lot of us do observe both…It would be nice if each one had it’s own focus…We can have as many holidays as we want…We could have one a month, if we wanted…but they should have their own meaning…We shouldn’t be calling four different days a year IBLD…It’s ridiculous…

…This day of observance has gone through so many changes in two decades, it’s almost a parody…and it needs better structure…provided anybody is taking it seriously, that is.

I don’t like the idea of doing anything unilaterally with IBLD…but if the broader community doesn’t do it…then I am going to slap some sort of name onto the summer and winter solstice…even if it only applies to my own website…Because it’s a great idea, and it distinguishes them.

…Think I’ll call one Bob…and the other Sue…

…Just kidding about that…I have a vague idea or two…not sure they’re good enough…or we could call one Zeus…and the other one Ganymede…I suppose…That’s kind of goofy, too…or maybe it’s good…

…I’m not usually up this late anymore [It was past 6 AM when I wrote this]…and I’m really feeling light headed…and hoping this post isn’t coming off too ornery…It wasn’t meant to be…

I’m about ready to observe the classic and original IBLD…and it feels like everything is just bottlenecking on me.

Reading this thread…it’s like a thing or two was taken straight out of my own thoughts, especially over the last few weeks.

It seems like everybody just does whatever they want…and there is no real “day”, anymore…which kind of kills the whole idea behind it.

Maybe it’s time for a reboot of IBLD, so we can all get back on the same page?…reintroduce simplicity into IBLD?

At this point…I would not even care if it was a radical reboot, abandoning the solstices, and picking a neutral time of year…in the spring or fall…[away from major holidays]…

…I love the fall…so long as there’s a soft landing… 😉

Good night!

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New IBLD Tradition: A “Festival of Candles” – Send Me a Picture of Your Burning, Blue IBLD Candle?…


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IBLD Website

Date: June 25, 2018

What a lovely surprise!…

…A fellow observer of IBLD, sent me a photo of their burning, blue candle.

…Which I love!…and I would love to share it, except I don’t have permission…

It’s led me to a question…

…Why don’t we photograph our burning, IBLD candles…and post them online as a collection, every IBLD?

It sounds like a neat tradition…simple…easy enough to do…

I’d be happy to start having this, as a feature in my IBLD posts…or the collection could be a stand alone post, during the days associated with IBLD [from the solstice, through the following Saturday].

Of course…it would be wise to be discrete, in how much surrounding you reveal…but, it’s a really neat idea…Isn’t it?

What say you?

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IBLD – Summer 2018…


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IBLD Website

Date: June 21, 2018

Today is International BoyLove Day, for the summer solstice of 2018!

Happy IBLD!

What’s Happening in the World?:

It seems like we just don’t get much good to report, these days…though the political unrest promising change on the horizon, does seem…somewhat optimistic…for sweeping much corruption out of government…

Canada has legalized recreational marijuana…That is positive…

…And Our Love Frontier is charging along, as strong as ever!

This is the first time in years:

This is the first time in years, I’ve actually put substantial effort into one of these IBLD posts…something I would have preferred to be doing, all along…

I realized IBLD was approaching fast…I host possibly the only regularly maintained IBLD website on the internet…so, how could I not?…

…And yet, I somehow “lost” a day…thinking the solstice was on the 22nd…and that I’d have an extra 24 hours, to write a few additional things to complete this post…

…Ah, well….

I hope you enjoy the focus of this post…I’m sure Allen Ginsberg isn’t everybody’s cup of tea…but he was an interesting character…

So…let’s take a look back, at one of the most celebrated American BoyLovers…Allen Ginsberg…


01) No More to Say & Nothing to Weep For: An Elegy for Allen Ginsberg (FULL MOVIE)

“Witness the last days of the Beat poet whose works would capture the very essence of the 1960 counter-cultural movement in an informative documentary featuring Allen Ginsberg’s final television interview as well as remarkable deathbed footage shot by underground cinema icon Jonas Mekas. In addition to candid discussions about everything from Ginsberg’s personal life to his literary career, home movie footage of the Howl author as a child and archive footage allow contemporary fans to witness such landmark moments as his 1965 reading at Royal Albert Hall and chanting at the 1968 Democratic Convention. Previously unreleased footage of Ginsberg performing with Paul McCartney is also included, as are interviews with Dick Cavett and William Buckley, and the heartfelt memorial service in which Patti Smith bid her old friend a particularly poignant farewell. In the final sequence, Ginsberg invites filmmaker Mekas to his New York loft as he lies on his deathbed and prepares to embark on the ultimate adventure.”

It is largely accepted, that Allen Ginsberg was a hebephile BoyLover…and he famously spoke at a NAMBLA conference.


First recording of “Howl” read by Allen Ginsberg, 1956:


Howl

By Allen Ginsberg

For Carl Solomon

I

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,

who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,

who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,

who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,

who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,

who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night

with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,

incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,

Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,

who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,

who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,

who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,

a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon,

yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,

whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement,

who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,

suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark’s bleak furnished room,

who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,

who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,

who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,

who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,

who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,

who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,

who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,

who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,

who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the FBI in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,

who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,

who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,

who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,

who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,

who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,

who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,

who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,

who balled in the morning in the evenings in rosegardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may,

who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,

who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman’s loom,

who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,

who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sunrise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,

who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver—joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’ rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,

who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out of basements hung-over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,

who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open to a room full of steam-heat and opium,

who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,

who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,

who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,

who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,

who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology,

who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish,

who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,

who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,

who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade,

who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried,

who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,

who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alleyways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,

who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles,

who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,

who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,

who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,

who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other’s salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,

who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,

who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,

who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury,

who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy,

and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,

who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,

returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible madman doom of the wards of the madtowns of the East,

Pilgrim State’s Rockland’s and Greystone’s foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,

with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4 A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination—

ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you’re really in the total animal soup of time—

and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipsis catalogue a variable measure and the vibrating plane,

who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus

to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,

the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come after death,

and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America’s naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio

with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.

II

What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?

Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!

Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!

Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!

Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!

Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities!

Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!

Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!

Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!

Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!

They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!

Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!

Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!

Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years’ animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!

Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!

III

Carl Solomon! I’m with you in Rockland
where you’re madder than I am

I’m with you in Rockland
where you must feel very strange

I’m with you in Rockland
where you imitate the shade of my mother

I’m with you in Rockland
where you’ve murdered your twelve secretaries

I’m with you in Rockland
where you laugh at this invisible humor

I’m with you in Rockland
where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter

I’m with you in Rockland
where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio

I’m with you in Rockland
where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses

I’m with you in Rockland
where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica

I’m with you in Rockland
where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx

I’m with you in Rockland
where you scream in a straightjacket that you’re losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss

I’m with you in Rockland
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse

I’m with you in Rockland
where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a cross in the void

I’m with you in Rockland
where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the fascist national Golgotha

I’m with you in Rockland
where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living human Jesus from the superhuman tomb
I’m with you in Rockland
where there are twentyfive thousand mad comrades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale

I’m with you in Rockland
where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs all night and won’t let us sleep

I’m with you in Rockland
where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls’ airplanes roaring over the roof they’ve come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we’re free

I’m with you in Rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night

San Francisco, 1955—1956

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Mixing IBLD with Incest and Zoophilia?…


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IBLD Website

Date: June 12, 2018

[Our Love Frontier] [page] IBLD – Please Contribute

June 5, 2018 at 5:52 AM

Reason for Submission: Original Content for Website
Submitted For: IBLD Journal

“hello is that you can make a debate on your site besides love frontier FOR THE AUGUST 4 is the Feast of the PZI = pedophiles incestuous zoophiles WHO IS MY DREAM! creates a united sexual front!

https://www.facebook.com/FRONT-sexuel-239221423251815/ – moly”

Hi Moly! 🙂

This is not the first time someone [possibly yourself] has approached me about this.

Let me first clarify, that I will not be altering the EQF IBLD website to include zoophilia or a dedicated focus on incest.

IBLD is a very specific day of observation, for a specific community. The EQF IBLD website, I believe, captures this spirit and message quite well.

There is no logical reason, for the EQF IBLD website to undergo a fundamental change of this sort…as zoophilia and incest are not especially linked with the BoyLove community. There is a tiny bit of overlap, of course…But your common BoyLover doesn’t visit IBLD websites, to read about zoophilia and incest…The day is not about those things, anyway.

My Views on Zoophilia:

I don’t pursue zoophilia in any way, as a personal lifestyle option.

I find the topic of discussion both interesting and relevant, in that it explores the “spiritual” aspects of sex, sexual intimacy and sexual bonding, in forms of sex which can never produce offspring…and with companions so physically diverse, it holds parallels with pedophilia…in that the sexual companions are functioning from very different points of power and status…even ability to communicate…

I find zoophilia fascinating, in that it lets us explore the ways…in which humans can detect and respect the sexuality of another being.

This is why zoophilia is primarily a tertiary subject of interest to me…There is plenty to be learned from it, I believe…and some of it is relevant, to MAPs who are pedophiles.

I also believe that zoophiles are unjustly maligned, much of the time.

I believe, like any other demographic…zoophiles have every right to seize their own public identity, and fight for both their humanity, and their legal and human rights.

I’m not a zoophile…And forgive the slight pun…but “I don’t have a dog in this fight”, where it comes to the legalization of zoophilia…other than, an interest in being allowed to legally observe and study it…to have it as an issue of discussion, entirely out in the open.

I think there would be social benefit in this, and that we should fight against censorship and oppression aimed at zoophiles [so long as they are acting in accordance with the law].

Making a New Website:

I’m not up to creating a sort of “unity” website, for MAPs, zoophiles and incest advocates.

I don’t know enough about zoophiles, to do them justice…and incest advocacy isn’t that high on my agenda, right now…

…That being said…I have no personal issues with zoophilia and incest advocacy…

It’s just that this is something that is going to fall upon someone else to do.

I don’t see myself as being a rightful person, to spearhead such a project.

The Day of Healing and Renewal:

Some may recall, that we started an alternative observation on “National Coming Out Day” [October 11], called “The Day of Healing and Renewal”.

Our day of alternate observation, is for those who still cannot safely come out…and it stands as a call for reconciling the history and healing the bad blood, which divides the MAP community from the LGBT community…and inviting a new, positive and uplifting relationship moving into the future.

Aside from the fact, that it’s high time I started acknowledging this alternate observation once again…

…I am willing to share in some kind of joint observation, which includes a broader range of oppressed sexual minorities.

I like having different days of community observance…

…I just don’t see a reason, to change what is already set in place.

I invite discussion here, regarding a new observation/resource, that brings together a MAP, Incest Community and Zoophile alliance.

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Happy IBLD, Winter 2017!…


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IBLD Website

Date: December 21, 2017

Today is Thursday, December 21st…The winter solstice of 2017.

Many people will have their IBLD observation this next Saturday…but the winter solstice is the original day of observance.

I’m currently in the shadow of my internet and phone going out on me [which is why it’s been so quiet around here, for the past few days…though, I did backdate a few posts]…But, we’ve got new wiring…a new modem that’s capable of far greater speed than my last modem…and the possibility of upgrading my internet speed, more than three times the rate I’m currently at…hopefully for no more money, than I’m currently paying…Seems I was stuck at the old rate, because of the old equipment I had…Happily…I was finally forced to make a service call.

…We’ve also got guests…So, it’s hard to do a lot of writing…or recording…

I feel like…just about every time I make one of these posts…I’m expressing regret that I don’t have more to say…

…I’m not going to “bemoan” that we have two separate IBLDs, again…but, for the record…it is kind of overwhelming, from my point of view.

As you can see…I did create a new sub blog look, for the winter solstice IBLD…I also created one for the summer solstice IBLD [which reflects more of a “sunshiny” image]…So, there are plans for the future…

…It just seems like IBLD always sneaks up on me…and then it’s suddenly here…and I don’t have anything to post…

…Maybe…I’ve expressed everything I have to say?…

…It’s been almost twenty years since the first IBLD…

…After this much time, effort and energy…maybe, “Happy IBLD!” is all I really need to say anymore, in a post like this?

Thing is…I know it’s still new, to many people…And I know that people need to be carrying the torch of IBLD enthusiasm…

I think I’m reeling from the burnout, from the additional work of finding and posting content for my “October” and “Yule Time” series…And I’m going to be taking those at a much more relaxed pace, going forward…

…I wish this post were a lot more IBLD-ish…but…I guess…a short, personal journal as a BL observing IBLD, discussing what’s going on in my life, isn’t so wrong…

…It’s certainly better than nothing. 🙂

I’ve been too “lazy” and preoccupied, to update the date on the EQF IBLD page…but, please visit the website…No new updates, unfortunately…

…I’m just really tired, as of late…I think the seasonal cold has gotten into me…It’s kind of dragging me into a funk.

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Happy Summer IBLD, 2017!…


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Date: June 21, 2017

June 21st of 2017 was the solstice…hence, the original historic observance of International BoyLove Day…

…Many will have an official observance this Saturday, the 24th of June.

Here is a little bit of something, that fits in with boyhood, and the spirit of the day.

Librivox recording of Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie

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