Defining Extremes

I swear that I have written something with this exact same title before...Oh well, if I can't remember, then you shouldn't either!

I read a post yesterday that got me thinking about extremes. Specifically, how we define extremes.

I have been called extreme...But I don't see it. When I think of extremes, I think of having your tits nailed to a board, of my darker fantasies that will most likely never come to life, of...Things we just don't do, I guess.

For me, the cane is extreme (I hates it, I hates it, did I mention that I hate it?). For others, it is a walk in the park.
For me, knives are fun. Oh yes, reduce me to a panting, wet, begging, mess...I digress though...For others, knives are extreme.
For me, too extreme is whatever Alpha says it is.
For some people, getting pissed on is a hard limit. For me, it is like a gateway to subspace.
And so on...

So how do we definitively define extremes, and separate them into categories of black and white?
We don't.
Because extreme, much like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.
We define extremes for ourselves. Then the extremes that we go to are defined by our Dominants.

I doubt that people come through and shudder at the content of my blog, defining me as extreme--because I don't think that I am. But that is, of course, by my own definition and perception.
There's also a notable lack of anonymous dropping in to "save" me. So that probably contributes to my previous assumption...

It's funny though, while the kinky section of Blogland is pretty open and accepting, the more you wander, the more likely you are to encounter two very opposing views on extremes--damn near everything is too extreme, or "I am more extreme than you, therefore I'm better". These days, both approaches just make me shake my head.

The most extreme I get, is being willing to do whatever he wants.