Is Power Knowledge?

By lissa

Greetings Masters,
Greetings Mistresses,
Hello slaves,

A girl would first like to say that she hopes all the ghouls and goblins had a safe and fun Halloween, and she would like to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. Please remember, turkey has a sleep agent in it, so it really is justifiable to take that after dinner nap. *winks*

As I sat in chat the other day, for the first time in quite awhile, I noticed some things. The room was marked Gorean, and as the Free and slave alike began to come in, the chatter began to happen. The slaves were mindful of their stations, ensuring that the Free were greeted, and offering service. Polite, respectful girls joyfully greeted each and every Free person that entered, as if each were long lost relatives. In the course of the evening after I had been of service and was able to attend more to the room, I wondered what lay beneath the pretty type that was the public conversation. I wondered who was going to end up knowing more than she wanted to know, who was going to be commanded to silence after hearing some revelation about another free person.

Those that claim to be Gorean are examined by other established members of the community, their opinions and beliefs are held to standards found within the books. Free people assess other free people, and decide who is “real” and who is “poser”, and who gets accepted. We slaves watch the Free that we deeply respect and know, using their example to set the tone for our dealings with other Free. It is how we find who we learn from, who to go to for advice, who to admire, and who to snicker about in private. There are men and women who have been here for so long, that they've become larger than life, and are seemingly perfect. Under that veneer of perfection, falliable men and women have earned the respect of their peers and been named Gorean.

Sitting in that room, that day, I watched as the silence descended. I just knew someone was getting told something privately. I found myself hoping that it was something innocent like the birth of a new child, or buying that hot red sports car they've always wanted. I didn't want to think of another slave girl, staring blankly at her computer, tears streaming from her face, after one short conversation with an admired member of the community. An admired member of the community who no longer had a pedestal, and had given the girl the burden of a secret, and left her with no admiration for the person they thought they knew. It's a moment most all of us have faced. The moment when we must behave befitting of our stations, knowing something awful about someone else, and knowing that none of the established members were doing anything about it.

It causes a girl to look pretty hard at what she has been taught, and by whom, and it makes it mighty hard to try to discern the wheat from the chaff. Trying to figure out whether it is possible to trust anyone, including yourself. That is the nature of the beast, so to speak, and the burden carried by many. To carry with you, a secret that cracks your faith, and causes you to re-evaluate yourself and those you turn to, is the burden of knowledge.

As a slave, my only recourse is to limit where I travel online these days, and to be as respectful as possible in the face of these very Free people. And to remember that knowledge is power......unless you are a slave.

always,

lissa

P.S.   Please feel free to send any comments, criticisms, or topic suggestions to: simply_lissa@yahoo.com