Monthly Archives: June 2012

What Really Happened to Ray Gricar (back by popular demand)

Now, I’m a fiction writer. And so what you are going to read is fiction (ahem), total make-believe stuff…

But this is what really happened to Ray Gricar…

So, in case you didn’t know, Ray Gricar was a District Attorney in Pennsylvania. I went to college at a place called Penn State, and I knew who Gricar was. I never met the man, but I heard from my friends that he liked to get the maximum for drug charges, so they didn’t like him.

You also might have heard about a scandal at Penn State involving important people and sex and kids, or maybe you were busy the last few months looking the other way.

But let’s pretend…

Since the thing that law enforcement so often lacks is imagination…

One thing about that pesky investigation, and that sickening Grand Jury report, is that it describes this assistant coach witnessing an anal rape of a boy, approximately 10-years-old, in the shower. The only reason we know about this boy is that this coach had to testify about it. I’d like to just state for the record here that this man, McQueary, is a really great example of the deeply moral character that was instilled into PSU football players, but that’s a different story. I digress.

So this kid never came forward. At least, he isn’t listed in the Grand Jury report as one of the victims.

He never came forward that we know of.

Let’s say that his poor kid tells his mom about what happened in 2002. The woman decides not to go to the Penn State police (since who would trust those sorry fucks!) and goes right to Mr. Gricar. The kid tells him what happened.

Yes, sir, I was being raped in the shower by Sandusky and that assistant coach walked in. McQueary. He saw what happened.

Did he stop it?

No, sir, he didn’t.

Gricar, knowing that this is a powder keg, starts asking questions, does a little private investigating. These are high profile men, and you don’t want rumors flying around.

So he sets up a meeting with Graham Spanier, whose name is on my diploma. He didn’t actually sign it. It’s some kind of stamp or something. All that money to Penn State and I can’t even get a real fucking signature.

Gricar says, So Graham, I have a delicate matter to discuss with you. You see, this young boy came to my office and said that he got raped by Jerry Sandusky in the Penn State shower. He said that one of the other coaches walked in while it was happening and didn’t do anything. I even talked to Mr. McQueary about this, and he said that he talked to Paterno and Curley and Schultz about this (which is why McQueary said that he did talk to police. He talked to Gricar but he doesn’t want to end up MIA). Were you ever told about this?

Mr. Spanier says, Why no, Mr. Gricar, I had no idea. This is quite an allegation. We would never let that occur here at our prestigious university. I mean, we bleed blue and white of course but not out of our assholes! I’m sure you understand that this is a very sensitive matter. Have you discussed this with many other people?

Gricar, as he taps his head: Mr. Spanier, I have everything up here, then Gricar taps his laptop, and in here.

Spanier smiles and silently laughs muhahaha.

Mr. Gricar, I promise I will look into this with Godspeed and get back to you.

So Spanier calls Curley and Schultz and Paterno into his office. Or maybe they go to that park near where Paterno lives and sit on the swingset and smoke cigars.

Spanier says: The gig is up my friends. The DA is investigating us. That kid in the shower told him what happened. He even talked to McQueary.

Curley starts to cry. Schultz pees his pants. Now they are going to have to stick to their stories like they practiced, just say that McQueary didn’t tell them anything, that he just said that it was horsing around.

Gosh, they didn’t want this to happen. When they were told about that kid getting raped in the shower in 2002, they were just trying to protect the university. There were those charges in 1998 against Sandusky, and sure he wasn’t charged with anything, but boy, if people find out that Sandusky was once investigated for child molestation, and here Penn State is letting him back on campus with little kids, and now he fucked one in the shower, boy, that will be hard to explain. Hard to justify that they didn’t have some kind of oversight. There are reputations to protect.

Schultz asks: Who else is involved in this investigation Grahamy?

Just Ray.

A voice pipes up. It’s almost angelic (or demonic). It’s hard to tell really.

I’ll take care of it boys. Who is your most trusted cop on staff Mr. Curley?

Flash forward to a laptop getting tossed off of a bridge. You see, there is a funny thing about that bridge. I know that bridge. My husband grew up really close to that bridge, and it isn’t the kind of bridge that you just stop on. That would get a lot of attention. People might notice a license plate or something. And then, nowadays, there are cameras EVERYWHERE.

But there is one kind of car that can stop on a bridge, or anywhere else for that matter, and not get noticed. It has flashing lights at the top and a really cool siren.

And this is a funny story, too, and I’m sure it isn’t true, since it was told to me by a couple guys who were really into drugs, I mean like dealing lots and lots of drugs, about how they knew about a shipment of drugs that was coming into State College. They knew it was coming in a big truck late at night, so they waited on College Avenue to watch it come into town.

And it did come into town, escorted by police cars.

But those guys were totally not trustworthy, and you should never believe a writer anyway.

So someone who believed in weird conspiracies might think that maybe a cop got put up to do some dirty work, and maybe that’s why none of the police departments around there really investigated when Gricar disappeared. Maybe somebody important knew about their fun police escorts late at night and gave them an ultimatum. Maybe they knocked right on Gricar’s door, and he let them in.

And this poor kid. Maybe he saw what happened and left town with his mom.

Maybe this is all bullshit.

I mean, these guys are totally innocent.

I think.

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What is Edge Play

What is edge play? Unfortunately, there is not a definition of edge play to be found in the dictionary on the shelf.  If one were to ask participants in the bdsm community what they considered edge play to be, one might get the answers of gun play, rape simulation, knife play, fire play, or erotic asphyxiation. Others might say that it would include “pretend” kidnapping or blackmail scenarios.

A term is not defined by its examples, however. A better definition of edge play would be:

Practices in bdsm that ignore the accepted rule of “safe, sane, and consensual” and pose a risk of death or injury, either physical or psychological.

The most common forms of edge play are practices that are potentially dangerous, or, at the very least, taboo. Gun play, for example, in its most extreme form, uses a loaded gun, a potentially lethal activity if the weapon is mishandled. Rape simulation is a form of consensual non-consent, which is essentially still a form of consent with the stipulation that the participant is agreeing to be “forced.” Knife play either risks or blatantly uses cutting, and fire play has the very serious risk of injury. Erotic asphyxiation is especially dangerous if not performed correctly.

As a writer of a book called Edge Play X, I am occasionally asked if I am involved in the “lifestyle.” I find this to be a funny and entertaining question. Yes, one of the main characters in my book is a dominatrix. The other two main characters are a CIA agent and billionaire, and yet, I am never asked if I am a CIA agent or a billionaire secretly living a modest lifestyle to figure out who my real friends are.

As far as I am concerned, what I do in the bedroom is a private matter, so I will neither confirm nor deny that I have or have not participated in any of these activities. And essentially, as a writer, it doesn’t matter if I have. My primary interest in these activities is related to the relationship of edge play to the sex drive and death drive.

The idea of the sex drive and death drive come from Freud. According to Freud, people have two primary drives—one toward life, survival, and sex, and the other toward destruction, or death.  Freud initially thought that people were motivated primarily by pleasure, but as his career went on, he found many examples of people purposefully creating distressing play scenarios (in the case of children) or found that people who had experienced a traumatic experience were sometimes prone to repeat the trauma. An example of this would be an abused child who later becomes an abuser. He theorized that an urge exists for life to return to its inorganic state. That is the death drive. Freud also associated the death drive with masochism.

The death drive was not simply about the urge for the patient to die, it was an urge that manifested itself in outward destruction or in controlling and destructive behaviors in the outside world. The sex drive and death drives are polar opposites. Freud saw the libido as an antidote to the death drive, writing, “’libido has the task of making the destroying instinct innocuous.”

Freud would be particularly interested in the practice of edge play, as these scenarios quite blatantly mix the sex drive and death drive. Could it be that through edge play that participants are using it in a therapeutic manner (consciously or not), in that it allows them to face dangerous scenarios and their own mortality in an environment where the libido is quite prominently displayed? Could it be that mixing the two drives is not necessarily psychologically unhealthy, because the libido is ultimately overriding the destructive urges? Perhaps edge play is not so extreme after all because ultimately, a neutral psychological affect can be achieved from mixing the drives, in the same way that mixing a base and an acid can neutralize one another. Yes, some reactions can be dangerous or lethal, but in the right environment, such reactions are rather innocuous. Too bad Sigmund isn’t around to give us his opinion.

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