5 Ways to Fight Envy (thegospelcoalition.org)
Monday, August 30, 2021
Sunday, August 29, 2021
The Sperm Of The (Gulf Of Mexico) Hurricane
Tulane University championed a sperm study post Hurricane Katrina (16-years ago) that resolved the unexpected influx of impregnated women immediately following that catastrophic event. The assumption was that romantic interludes sprang forth from bored couples who were left with "nothing else to do" post-Katrina except have intercourse. But that didn't explain the exorbitant amount of pregnancies that resulted during that natural disaster. For as we all know, birth control practices don't just cease to be when our normal way of life is turned up on end.
Hurricanes borne out of the Gulf of Mexico are unique in that their barometric pressurization is massively low. Because of this, as researchers at Tulane have proven, sperm production within men's testes is uniquely impacted.
Sperm's mobility is a result of flagella. Flagella are "tails" on the end of sperm cells that whip about violently, and therefore propel the cells forward in search of the ovum.
Men's testes are constantly manufacturing a gosh-awful-lot of sperm cells each day, and under normal atmospheric conditions, these sperm have flagella that are all the same length. But within the unique atmospheric conditions needed to manufacture a Gulf of Mexico hurricane, sperm's flagella length & energeticness is massively impacted.
Therefore, for about 2-3 weeks following a hurricane event, those men who're situated (hunkered down) within the direct line of the storm's impact will likely see their sperm production mutated as such for better (mind blowing sex) or worse (additional dependents) via these sorta now hipster single cell organisms.
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A sperm cell must puncture the ovum (or egg) within a woman's fallopian tube successfully in order for a zygote (fertilized egg) to spring forth. The pathway up through the woman's reproductive organs is chemically hostile to the sperm, therefore most do not survive the journey. Hence, when the few who do successfully locate the ovum attempt to penetrate, most are unsuccessful, due to physical degradation (fatigue).
But this precludes the small window of occurrence of the Gulf of Mexico hurricane sperm (for those certain geographically & atmospherically situated guys).
These little buggers can travel up to 5x as swiftly than their normal flagella-ed brethren. And as we know, accelerative speed not only equates to ovum penetrative power but far less exposure to those nasty uterus toxins.
Hence, females are successfully impregnated with stunning efficiency by their all-the-while ignorant mates...unbeknownst to them.
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Another outcome of the Tulane study solved the prophylactic question as well. At least regarding condom usage.
It was successfully proven that these Gulf of Mexico hurricane sperm were so vivacious / energetic that standard latex condoms weren't of high enough millage to hold them back (inside the rubber). Often, upon ejaculation, these little buggers would simply power their way through the rubberized membrane, instinctively seeking out their target like so many heat seeking missiles.
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In conclusion, as we all know, a man's orgasm is a result of sperm's flagella "tickling" the stud's uretha gleefully as it ferries its way "to infinity and beyond". This is what causes the intense pleasure of the man's reproductive organs at orgasm / ejaculation, with particular emphasis at the penis' head as the sperm blow past the authorities in pursuit of their final "launch" outside of the dude's body.
As such, Gulf of Mexico hurricane sperm, with their "super flagellas" exhibit such over the top orgasms for men, that the urge to have sex no doubt increases exponentially.
This too, per the Tulane study, accounted for another factor in the sizable pregnancy uptick post Hurricane Katrina. In essence, the average coastal dude became a stud overnight. In spite of the fact that his pad had no electricity or potable water to speak of.
Therefore, be mindful, all you guys down in NOLA / along the Gulf Coast. Though the hetero sex you participate in over the next few weeks will be arguably the most intensely pleasurable of your life, you're moreso likely going to end up with a(nother) kid to tend to as a result.
As I've always said, pregnancy sex is the best sex. But especially during the few weeks after riding out a Gulf of Mexico hurricane.
Friday, August 27, 2021
(In)Toxic(ated) Masculinity
There're gas stations surrounding our 'hood at the Reservoir along with numerous liquor stores, bars (one that even lets you throw axes after a few drinks), "discount" tobacco and CBD (whatever that is) stores. This area has truly "matured" into the "last stop before home", particularly over the past few years.
This region that we've lived in (multiple decades) is right on the edge of the oldest developed portion of the ginormous Ross Barnett Reservoir "resort area" (on the outskirts of Jackson). "Resort areas", by definition, have recently been given legal credence to many of the aforementioned retailers. In other words, they wouldn't be allowed within this area otherwise. And this recent "Resort area" legislation was, of course, spearheaded by legislators who now own (all or a portion of) many of the leasable properties ("strip centers") here within this particular region of "The Rez".
We even have one of those - very recently added - standalone bag-o-ice robo-dispensaries out in the parking lot of a 40+ year old strip center! Of which, a few bags are just perfectly suited to fill the cooler (that's full of booze) in order to keep it nicely chilled for the start of the weekend.
I mean, this area has become about as white trash Mississippi as you can get. As such, all that's really missing now is an Asian massage parlor. It's no doubt morphed into a microcosmic anti-Madison.
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I was just out and about (earlier today) gassing up our vehicles (in preparation for next week's forecasted natural disaster) at one of these gas stations here adjacent to our 'hood, and I realized that it was right at 5 PM on a Friday afternoon. I had to go into this particular station to retrieve my receipt (pump printer paper was either out or jammed), and whilst doing so, was instantly struck by the scene.
The scene which screamed 5 PM on a Friday afternoon.
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A former friend, who's no longer here in Jackson, and I were chatting many years ago about how his beer stash within their family's fridge would inevitably be tampered with whenever his son would have friends stay overnight for a sleepover. And he found this amusing.
I remember asking him (this dude is a pastor) why he "occasionally" drinks beer at all. And ultimately, he answered that question by admitting that it's simply too cool to not.
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When I worked for the State of Mississippi between 2006-2012, I befriended a fellow bureaucrat (who didn't work within my bureau but tangentially to it). And this dude warmed up to Rob very quickly (to the point that it was a little freaky). I remember doing my darndest to minister to him (at arms length) through our friendship (succinct chats at work, etc.), but that all seemed ridiculous to continue with once he admitted to his true love.
I can still see his face when he stated that he - without any exception - drank 8 to 9 beers a night (that he purchased on his way home from work). The grin was unmistakable. It was one rooted in (in)toxi(cated) masculinity.
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So what exactly was that scene that I just recently witnessed at our one of many Reservoir gas stations?
Men being men. Cool men, in particular.
And what does this mean exactly? I'll be honest with you. I'm not really sure. For I'm certain booze doesn't taste nearly as good as some other beverages.
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Earlier this week, I stopped into (arguably) the most well established haberdashery in Jackson in order to purchase a gift certificate. It had been over a decade since I'd darkened the door of this retailer, and immediately upon walking in, I was instantly transported to my teen years when my mother used to bring me there (there was - back in the '80s - a boy's clothing offshoot upstairs).
The smell of the store, the style of the furnishings, even the scale of the space, relayed masculine comfortableness. And it wasn't a comfortableness that encouraged lingering (for men DO NOT linger), but as you might expect, retail efficiency.
And this points back to where we live out here at the Reservoir, which arguably has become - over the past 10 years - a masculine retail encampment.
And a big part of this has to do with booze. Lots and lots and lots of booze.
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Booze is a massive revenue producing liquid. It takes time and energy to brew, and trends force breweries to stay one step ahead of the masses' taste buds / specific definitions of cool.
But it's not just the booze itself. For I'm convinced it's just as much the purchase of the booze and the ice and so forth that's part of this very significant masculine identifier.
When I was faced with the scene at the gas station, the line was at least three patrons deep - all men - holding their respective case(s) of booze. Each of them knew the Persian clerk behind the counter by his first name (& he knew theirs), for I could hear their banter during the transaction. One of the patrons also purchased some sort of fruit flavored cigarettes to go with his weekend booze. I know this because it took him awhile to decide on what flavor (there looked to be +/-50 on display).
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There aren't that many retail hotspots solely dedicated / designed for / paying homage to men. But I'm now convinced that we do sort of live in one of them. Who'd a thunk? Cheers!
Thursday, August 26, 2021
Sunday, August 22, 2021
Friday, August 20, 2021
Crossgates Baptist Church Samson Society - NEW TIME / DAY - Starting Tomorrow, (8/21)!
The Samson Society group that meets at Crossgates Baptist Church is now meeting (starting tomorrow - 8/21) on Saturday mornings at 7 AM.
For more information contact Mr. Bo Hust at bhust20@gmail.com or (601) 270-5820.
Thursday, August 19, 2021
MSRP / Impulse Buy / Loss Leader - The Economy Of Internet Porn
We are all consumers. As modern, 21st century human beings, we must be, for we have basic needs that we ourselves - more often than not - are unable to meet (pragmatically), and this positions us to take on the role of a typical western consumer (purchasing food, clothing, or shelter).
Many of you know how cheap I am relative to fast food, and I'm like this because I revile in the ubiquity of retail storefronts. For they serve as a constant reminder of how costly it is to consume (for I too, ain't no farmer). Therefore due to this ubiquity, avoiding this 2021 retail reality is quite difficult (if not impossible) to achieve, for there are so many storefronts - main street & virtual available to us (w/ more and more coming each day) that cater to just about everything imaginable. Thusly, I SO OFTEN FEEL TRAPPED WITHIN THIS RETAIL ECONOMY, and in turn protest by keeping my wallet close to my vest.
So what is retail, and why does its ubiquity offend me so?
Retail, in concept, is as follows: precisely packaged, marketed, and pitched goods at the very top of a supply chain. As a side note to that statement, for the wealthy, methodically / unabashedly paying retail price is often (though certainly not always) seen as a sign of "what it means to be" truly affluent. As such, retail represents the most convenient, most polished, most effortless consumer transaction available (that also happens to be the most pricey), and this is because the retail pricing structure is so heavily layered (from deep within) relative to its specific narrative (supply chain arc). A narrative that had to take place (& justifiably be paid for) in order to bring a consumer all of the convenience, polish, and effortlessness therein.
There's Rob's summary of the concept of retail from Econ 101.
I want to revisit this statement before we go any further (expounding on more econ lessons in relation to Internet porn), for I believe it speaks to the notion of entitlement which is just about as pagan a term as there's ever been, and we don't need to miss that.
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Working at the Chick-A-Fil in Northpark Mall throughout high school gave the teenage version of Rob a firsthand look at retail fast food (fried chicken sandwiches and fried potatoes) consumers.
Chick-A-Fil is in line with other companies like Applebee's and Chili's (franchised restaurant chains) or Nissan in that they appeal equally to both whites and blacks. And this is a critical cultural accomplishment for these companies relative to the massive monetary success they've achieved. For so many companies that set up retail operations here in the Deep South ultimately fail because their business model isn't successful in "traveling" between races.
Therefore, I as a 15-17-year-old, was exposed to all manner of economic class (impoverished blacks to wealthy whites) of Mississippian whilst working part-time at the Chick-A-Fil.
I can recall one busy summer Saturday at lunchtime, watching in awe as a rich, white (& very tall) woman exclaimed repeatedly to my cashier colleague, "I don't care what it costs, just give it to me like I asked!"
What she was referring to was a uniquely customized order (for her and her beautiful - and all very tall - family) that had my co-worker befuddled.
In a similar vein, I sold a minivan (I was a Chrysler / Plymouth new car salesman one summer whilst in college) to a ostentatiously rich, white guy during the long since defunct "Mississippi Fairgrounds Sale" of 1991. After he'd decisively agreed on a final purchase price, I lead him to the "Business Office Tent" (in order for him to write a check for the purchase).
To my horror, in spite of the line of customers waiting it out quietly under the big top (there in the stifling summer heat), he traipsed directly to the front of the line. And after pushing a lady aside, he sat down in one of the two "Accounting Guy's" chairs and proceeded to carry out all the necessary paperwork relative to his cash purchase / retail transaction for his new luxury minivan (1991 Chrysler Town & Country).
From there, all I could do (as a 19-year-old) was hope I wouldn't be fired (I wasn't) once the dealership I was working for returned to its Highway 80 location the following week.
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Western corporations most salient, reliable consumer are children (& adults who consume like children).
There's a nugget of truth from Econ 101.
Why is this? Because children embody the notion of entitlement. If you're short on understanding what the word entitlement means, simply think of a (western) child's self-centered outlook on almost everything.
Too, children have little to no impulse control, and this is why so much retail merch is displayed prominently at the check-out line within most retail big box stores / restaurants / convenience stores. Retail impulse buys account for a massive amount of revenue for companies. And, it's all exorbitantly overpriced incidentals (junk drinks, junk food, junk magazines, junk toys) that children (& adults who consume like children), in particular, can't seem to resist.
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Now, let's take these econ concepts that we've reviewed / explained so far and attempt to apply them to Internet porn.
Firstly, the Internet represents the highest echelon of retail. It is not only the retail zenith but the city floating in the sky. And primarily, this is due to the illusion (I can't stress that enough) of privacy that the Internet provides the consumer. For what is the most bothersome aspect of having a storefront retail experience (big box / restaurant / convenience or specialty store)?
Zero privacy. Instead, you're inconvenienced by all of those other consumers (of various races / socioeconomic backgrounds) that you're forced to share the retail store with.
And that's so very...unentitled. And those folks are so very difficult to "justify" all those impulse buys to (whilst around them).
Combine that Internet consuming "luxury" (privacy) with the impulse buying setup of impulse buying setups. For it's simply a click, and another click. And one more click. And everything just magically appears (as you've ordered it up) right in front of your eyes. And from there, you're experiencing the novel giddiness of technological entitlement.
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A side note:
Back when I consumed mucho amounts (hours and hours) of gay porn online, it took me awhile to figure out a bizarre physiological side effect.
For I'd come away (sorry) with super dry eyes. So dry, in fact, that I was unable to do much of anything to stop the intense stinging (& subsequent redness) for hours on end. Therefore, my only recourse was to lie down with my eyes shut.
What was happening was as follows: Whilst consuming Internet porn, my brain was so pleased with its private, overly entitled viewing experience of naked people having sex that it simply told my eyelids to cease blinking throughout. Therefore, for hours on end, I'd blink far, far less than needed to keep my eyes healthily moisturized. And, of course, that no blinking Internet porn consumption session took quite a toll on my eyeballs. Ouch.
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One final econ 101 nugget for you here at the wrap up of this post.
Nintendo keeps a steady revenue stream intact by selling Mario, Link, and Zelda. (Those same tired cartoon characters from the '80s.) These are intellectual properties that are owned by the company, and this is what consumers (of all ages) purchase from Nintendo (mostly around the holidays) in the form of video games.
Nintendo also happens to sell video game consoles, but these are loss leaders and not part of their forecasted revenue stream. A loss leader is a retail gimmick that companies use to capture consumers indirectly. As such, companies position loss leaders to handcuff consumers into only purchasing their intellectual property (because it won't work at all or nearly as well elsewhere).
Think of the Nintendo Switch. This console may very well become the most purchased in the history of console sales (in the next few years). The Nintendo Switch is a loss leader for Nintendo. As such, it's sold at a loss to them in order to get more and more of the devices into the hands of consumers - all over the western world.
Why is this important to Nintendo?
Because it handcuffs the consumer to Nintendo's tried & true intellectual property: Mario, Link, and Zelda.
From there, Nintendo sells retailed priced video games that only work on the Nintendo Switch. And arguably, most of these games are simply upgraded rehashes of the same platforming, FPS, third-person action / adventure concept. Concepts brought to life via an Italian plumber, pointy-eared elf teenager & his bug-eyed girlfriend.
How might this translate to Internet porn?
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There're only so many ways to fuck. And there're only so many types of individuals one can observe fucking.
Internet porn consumers know this. And their brains know it too. Yet, there are characters (porn models) online who provide a somewhat familiar narrative (story) to the fucking. Let's dub them Bettie Breast Implant and Henry Bigdick.
Porn tube channels (offering loss leader "free porn") will only satisfy a consumer for so long, taking their favorite hardworking porn models into account. No doubt, these consumers are eventually going to desire more. More intense, more extreme, more hard, hardcore. Or perhaps it's just that continual craving for the very latest performance from that specific porn model(s).
But this is going to retail cost them. Plus, it may very well usher them into promiscuous behaviors as a result as they fall further and further down the rabbit hole.
Sexual intimacy was created by God to only be experienced - as a distinct representation of Christ's relationship to his church - within the marriage bed. Husband and wife together. Working collectively to pleasure each other.
It's not watching naked people fuck. It's not lust. It's not the same rehashed scenario scripted out by Bettie and Henry in the least. It's a beautiful, unique experience that embodies / represents love to the highest degree. (Even if there's no money shot.)
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So what's the takeaway?
Thanks to such the individual novelty embodied within today's Internet-capable technology, many of us are behaving like idiots. Idiots who're acquiescing more and more towards discarding any remaining semblance of our adult sensibilities. And we're all being screwed by tech-savvy companies. Companies much more interested in their bottom line than our well-being. As such, we're now within the golden age of the entitled, retail consumer. It's an age built on the illusion that we're actually fully in control (& completely comprehend the methodology behind) of our own hyper-convenient retail consumption.
Unfortunately, that's the farthest thing from the truth. We have lost all control, and very few understand who's actual behind the curtain. Therefore, until you wake up and realize just how uninterested these companies are in you and yours well-being, you're simply one additional dumbass sheep that's "addicted" to Internet porn.
Wake up! Grow up! Set yourself apart! As a Christian, you are a child of the King! Be holy because you are holy.
You're not rich. You (& I) have been duped.
Tuesday, August 17, 2021
Monday, August 16, 2021
"Everyone Needs A Dream." / "Successful People Can Help You Be Successful." / "It Only Takes One Misstep To Derail Your Entire Life."
The most confusing / appalling aspect to me of this world of woe is parental neglect. And that encompasses both the physical and emotional. For I cannot fathom why any parent would behave this way towards their children except under the circumstances of being either mentally ill or of a dramatically low intelligence quotient.
Children are a gift from God. They represent our future. They are our legacy in so many ways. These facts are what keep me befuddled as to why any sane, of average (or better) intelligence parent wouldn't make their children's well being of top priority.
For this is what God does for his children. The Bible is clear about that.
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Therefore, as our Heavenly Father, does he teach us to be
- Independent thinkers?
- Brown nosers?
- Fatalistic?
No. No. And no.
Christianity is rooted in the notion of being reborn, and the catalyst for that rebirth is faith. Faith gifted to us from God.
What's the significance of rebirth within Christiandom?
Procedurally, it symbolizes moving from orphan to adopted sons / daughters of our Heavenly Father by being clothed in righteousness. Righteousness that was purchased for us through the death and resurrection of Jesus, God's son.
Righteousness is the sovereign, perfected will of our Heavenly Father. In other words, think of it as the most perfect diamond on planet Earth. Flawless.
Therefore, our Heavenly Father is the perfect parent. Perfectly nurturing. Perfectly loving. Perfect.
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As a biological parent (dad), I'm fortunate to have three daughters. One of which is lasering towards young adulthood as she (here recently) entered into her collegiate career. It is my hope that she'll eventually become independent of me and her mother, and go on to do work that's in line with God's will for her. Perhaps she'll stay single or marry. Nonetheless, as she continues to mature forward, her mother and I are expecting her to lean in less and less towards us as her parents.
This is the complete opposite of what our Heavenly Father wants of us as his children.
He has no interest in us becoming independent of him or to rely on anything other than him for every good thing. Nor does he want us to focus on anything other than the present day (& all of its worries).
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In closing, what about everyone around us? Whether it's other Christians or pagan, what is our responsibility towards them?
To serve. To go the extra mile. And pray for their salvation as well. And we do this out of love that was first shown to us by our Heavenly Father.
Sunday, August 15, 2021
Being Pursued Platonically
When I entered architecture school at Mississippi State University back in 1990, I was fortunate to gain acceptance into the full program, therefore at Day 1, I had access to all of the necessary freshman classes (including the notorious 4-hour Mon. / Wed. / Fri. Design Studio) that I was required to pass in order to gain access to Year Two through Year Five.
But not everyone was as fortunate as I was. There was also a "Summer Track" for those who failed to gain full access as freshmen, and this particular track required intensive Design Studio summer coursework (Mon.-Fri. for 8 weeks) post-freshman year. From there, if you passed those summer courses, you were allowed to merge into Year Two with the original class. All in all, once these two groups were combined, we had +/-45 students at the start of Year Two.
As you might imagine, I found myself appointed to the group that had the emotional upper hand because I'd had a summer off in between my freshman and sophomore year from architecture school. Plus, there was simply the notion that I was somewhat "more qualified" than my summer school peers since I'd gained full access to the degree program at Day One as a freshmen.
And, whilst reminiscing, I certainly witnessed the ramifications of this discrepancy within some of my summer school (now) peer group.
Specifically, I can recall one student from Memphis who struggled mightily with the Second Year Design Studio coursework, and primarily, I believe this struggle was rooted in his difficulty in making friends amongst the +/-45 member Second Year architecture school class.
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During my tenure at Mississippi State University, I was also a clarinet player within the Maroon Band, therefore I was obligated to attend all of the football games that the marching band supported (which was 90% of the scheduled fall games).
I recall having the opportunity to attend the Liberty Bowl - MSU vs Air Force (with my clarinet in tow) during Christmas break of my sophomore year, and having the good fortune of running into this student from Memphis. He was all smiles as he excitedly asked me if I was still within the architecture program. I replied with a resounding YES, and this brought on an even bigger grin across his face. From there, he could hardly contain himself by exclaiming his decision to leave the architecture degree program (and MSU altogether) behind.
I remember standing there on the sidelines looking confused and a bit flummoxed, but eventually, I realized that his quitting had freed him from isolation and all the misery therein.
And some of that misery and isolation, I had indirectly contributed to, due to the fact that I was on the "higher end" of the aforementioned sophomore year hierarchal discrepancy.
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What makes an individual relationally compelling? What are those traits that provide a bit of a gateway for some individuals to be pursued platonically and others not?
Speaking specifically about this Memphis guy, I offer the following recollections combined with experience with others like him (including me).
1. Take an interest in other men.
1b. Ask thoughtful questions of these men.
2. Try to put yourself within other men's shoes.
And that's really it.
Now, let's expound on these.
1. Because we human beings are constantly self analyzing, stroking / managing our egos, it takes genuine effort to actually pivot our attention from ourselves to another human being for any length of time. But this must be accomplished if you're going to be successful in gaining friends. Too, we need to realize that since 99.9% of our time is devoted to this, that .1% that remains can most certainly be relinquished sans complaining. I've heard more often than not that guys can come away from initial junctures with potential friends and feel as if they were called to listen too much. But what they've failed to realize is that whilst given an opportunity, many men will not hold back in advancing in that direction, particularly if they've made the decision to invest their story (into someone else) for such a time as that.
Now, let's circle back to that one student from Memphis that I mentioned earlier on.
This student, just like the rest of us, was required to be in the second year studio space from 1 PM - 5 PM every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday there in the architecture building. He was assigned a drafting table and stool just like his +/-45 peers. And that drafting table was amongst all the others (though from what I can recall, his was on the perimeter of the studio space).
That 4 hour, thrice-weekly class was every architecture students' time to design pretend buildings - for the most part - that had been assigned to us by our team of professors. And we had a lot of leeway in that class to mull around and critique each other's - in progress - work.
This one student from Memphis never took the opportunity to do anything for those 4 hours except work silently at his drafting table. In fact, none of us even knew his name because he was literally silent - at all times. In fact, the only time I believe I'd ever heard him actually speak was during the aforementioned Liberty Bowl juncture.
Now, I get that this young man may have had a shitload of personal stuff going on in the background that no one else was privy to, but even so, he was amongst an assigned, highly streamlined peer group. And we were all highly collaborative and overall very supportive (even taking the two sub-groups into consideration).
1b. When I was appointed to the position of Staff Architect with the Department of Finance & Administration (State of Mississippi), back in 2006, I was mated to an existing bureaucrat (who'd worked there +/-3 years), and as such, we were teamed to oversee both the planning (me) and construction (him) of publicly funded projects within a certain region of the state assigned to us as a team.
It was my hope at day one of my new job to befriend this now teammate of mine, but I was unsuccessful in doing so, therefore throughout the 6 years I worked there, my relationship with him was icy at best.
Why?
Because none of my initial questions / comments to him during my warmup (90) days had any real thoughtfulness behind them. Instead, what came out of my mouth towards him was mostly driven by emotion. And this reeked of arrogance or outright unintelligence (both emotional and cognitive). In fact, I can actually remember me driving the final nail into the coffin of our fledging friendship via yet another dumbass question from Rob.
No one wants to befriend a dumbass. I mean, who needs the hassle? Therefore, he chose not to befriend me.
As a result of this stupidity on my part, those (6) years at DFA were not nearly as enjoyable as they could have been had I simply made more of an effort relative to thoughtfully communicating with this newfound colleague.
2. And this last one is the hardest of all. But I will say this, it gets a whole lot easier to accomplish this one when you're a middle-aged man versus a young man. Gray hair equates to experience, and that experience is what enriches a middle-aged man's outlook on so many things.
Yet, experience does not begat wisdom. Wisdom is a gift from God, and I believe the foundation of wisdom is taking the time to rake through the "leaves of the past". Methodically and with intentions towards learning. Learning that's centered on maturation, sanctification, and forgiveness whilst being cocooned in humility.
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My Silas was just recently appointed to a new administrative position over the summer, and like I was when I was his age (he's decades younger than I am), he's been both elated to have been affirmed via this appointment and overwhelmed at the thought of the newfound responsibilities therein. Hence, all of these emotional and cognitive climaxes have had him obsessed with nothing but THE NEW J-O-B over the past +/-45 days.
And this has been to the point of me being intentional about pulling back a bit. For he simply hasn't had any spare grey matter for anything but THE NEW J-O-B, therefore there was no point in me attempting to lean in to my brother. Instead, I simply had to be patient with him. For it's not everyday that this type of milestone occurs.
But, the situation is beginning to change somewhat, particularly now that he's experienced one full week of his official administrative duties within the new position.
So, in light of what I detailed above (1, 1b, 2), here's my forecasted next move.
I telephoned him on Friday, (8/13) and he returned by call yesterday, (8/14). I asked him specifically about last week (his first full week of administrative duties at new job). And that was the only point of my call. Though he did, reflexively, ask about my outlook, I deflected the question, and really worked hard to interrogate him further thoughtfully about THE NEW J-O-B.
Then I asked him if it could be arranged for me to come visit him on the job soon in order to see firsthand the new setting he's working within.
And this is where I struck gold.
You could tell he was struggling to contain the excitement in his voice as he imagined me stepping into his vocational realm as his brother. And what I mean by that term "brother" is someone with a lengthy personal history (he and I have walked together formally - via Samson Society - since early 2019).
In closing, I hope this idea pans out. For I want this pursuit (his pursuit of me) to continue to be earned / vetted out between the two of us. No matter how hard or inconvenient it may seem to be.
There is nothing more valuable to me than nurturing friendships that meet my personal needs. Samson Society, throughout the past 7 years, has served as the ultimate petri dish (streamlined, assigned peer group) for these relationships to mature out of.
Friday, August 13, 2021
Tuesday, August 10, 2021
Truitt Baptist Church Samson Society Inaugural Meeting Tonight!
You're invited to tonight's Truitt Baptist Church inaugural Samson Society meeting!
The meeting starts at 6 PM, and here are the specific directions to the room Mr. Matt Flint will be facilitating within:
Truitt Baptist Church - 3705 Old Brandon Road Pearl, MS 39208
"Park in the parking lot on the west side of the building. There's a door on the south end by the sanctuary. Take a left down the hall, should be in first room on the left."
Sunday, August 8, 2021
Olympic-Sized Lust / Pole Vault Ass Cam / Erection Marketing
Earlier this week, an old Samson friend met me for lunch at a swanky, posh Jackson, Mississippi eatery that's a magnet for rich, white people, and on this particular sultry Mississippi August day, they were out in droves.
Most of these rich, white people were women, many very beautiful women with seductive figures and cosmetically accentuated countenances, some wearing Buck Rogers-inspired tight-fitting attire or little to bare minimum in clothing in order to stave off the relentless summer heat (whilst showing off their curves).
Hanging from the rafters within the outdoor dining space of this particular eatery was a massive television that just happened to be screening the Summer Olympics, and wouldn't you know it, the women's pole vault competition was in full swing! Needless to say, beautiful asses and tits were circumnavigating us.
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Many years ago, I had lunch with another old Samson friend at a similarly swanky Metro Jackson, Mississippi restaurant, and we actually had to cut our meal short in order for him to vacate the premises. I remember one particularly stunning female traipsing in, and as she did so, I watched all the blood drain out of my friend's face as his eyes latched onto to her longingly for a few intense seconds.
I had commented earlier that eating there felt as if we'd been whisked away to Los Angeles, California, and soon thereafter, this beautiful woman walked in (which served as further evidence). And then we walked out, leaving our protein bowls and frozen greek yogurt behind.
And by the way, this particular Samson friend now resides with his family in one of the most rural spots (that I'm privy to) in beautiful Mississippi. Far away from the posh, swankiness of suburban Jackson eateries frequented by rich, white people. And this allows me to sleep better at night.
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Decades ago, I was attending a northeast Jackson, Mississippi 12-step group somewhat sporadically, and within the group I befriended an intensely personable - native Mississippi man who was close to my age. This man's story shared similar traits as my own, and as such, our budding friendship was the most compelling reason for me to remain engaged within the group (everyone else was a lot older than I was). Around this time, the Summer Olympics were being held, and I recall receiving an unexpected landline telephone call from my new friend regarding this one Saturday afternoon.
He'd been screening the men's gymnastics, and as such, was feeling overwhelmed by his now very sexually aroused state. Watching those young muscular men, wearing nothing but skin-tight tanks / leggings, left nothing to the imagination (especially between their legs). Therefore, my friend felt overwhelmed with sexual desire when arguably most viewers were simply interested in the rankings. Or were they?
This telephone conversation set in motion for me the notion of decoupling myself (& my family) completely from CATV. And it wasn't long afterwards that I did so.
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Dr. John Piper as well as his entire Desiring God troupe exult the notion of squashing lustful thinking with "a greater joy". That "greater joy" being one's intensely desirous allegiance to pleasing God. Not out of duty but instead love. Love for a spirit that cannot be seen nor touched except through our heart of hearts. Intense love and affection that's grown out of saving faith.
But we are not a culture of heart seekers who're interested - in the least - with the internal much less the eternal. Instead, we're groomed to solely focus on the external (visual) - all the time 24/7/365 within the present. Head to toe. Backwards and forwards. Whether we're sizing each other up whilst out and about or watching our ever present entertainment via those ubiquitous flat screens.
So what do we do about this? How do we re-wire our brains to look inward at both ourselves and others?
Easy.
Take drastic steps.
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My Samson friend, whom I was eating with earlier in the week at the aforementioned posh Jackson, Mississippi eatery, just did something in this regard that I greatly respect.
He went from a longstanding commitment to a suburban mega-church to a newfound commitment to a Podunk country church that's essentially just one suburban municipality over. Now, this move was justified with circumstantial logic, but in terms of spiritual pragmatics, it made all the more sense for him specifically.
When I'm around this friend (especially within public settings), it's so apparent how enslaved he is to the external (visual). His overall focus is reduced dramatically due to this (which annoys me greatly). And it's been this way ever since I've known him.
To be more specific, I know this friend so well that my heart hurts to see how vulnerable he is - in real time. It makes me feel powerless.
So, how might a church membership move - from suburban mega-church to Podunk country church benefit him in this regard?
I would argue that Podunk country church is mainly attended by parishioners who're only there to take in God's word, worship, and serve. In lieu of (a handful) these same earnest folks (at the suburban mega-church) co-mingling with a boatload of socialites who make the time to attend in order to strut their hot bods whilst talking politics / their golf game out in the luxury SUV-filled parking lot.
Notice I mentioned "who're there to strut their hot bods". That's a key point. Don't miss that about certain churches.
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The first pastor friend of Rob's (+/-12 years ago) was an Associate Pastor. This meant that he rarely preached, but instead did his fair share of (exemplary) behind the scenes organizing, etc. at the church where he served. And this guy was content with this work at the time, which honestly was quite weird, because he was an excellent preacher with far more potential than had been tapped into. Nonetheless, he was willing to befriend me, therefore I kept my mouth shut regarding this and simply enjoyed our time spent together.
My Associate Pastor friend's wife was a knockout. And she knew it, and loved to flaunt it. So much so, that she'd at times show up to his church - just barely - dressed.
This blonde bombshell loved to exercise (she was hyperactively anxious which fueled her exercise obsession), and as a result, her expertly toned body displayed her hard work for every heterosexual man (& homosexual woman) to potentially lust after.
I remember seeing her on one occasion leaving the church house on one Sunday morning at quite a brisk pace (but with a sly grin on her countenance). She rarely attended any church functions besides worship on Sunday mornings, and today was likely no different. Having perhaps slipped in a tad bit late to worship, my assumption was her Associate Pastor husband had given her a look of disapproval (in response to her choice of non-attire) that really only served to reinforce / confirm her rebellious bent. For her, it was like a dance between the two of them - where she was always in the lead.
And I knew him well enough to know that he secretly loved participating in this sensualized marital dance, elevating it far above the reality of his calling / duties as a pastor. For it was as if he'd won the lottery, having her beautiful tits and ass to lie next to (or on top of) each and every night. As such, her seductive attention more than made up for the doldrums (& low wages) of his Assistant Pastoral duties.
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Let's wrap this one up by dropping a bombshell truth that no one wants to hear (much less say).
The primary value (monetized) of a female, within our western culture, is in her sensuality. And this is a distortion of Biblical truth for women were not created to be primarily valued as meat or eye candy.
This distortion has come about / been proliferated by / through technology. Mainly photography - still and video. As such, women are elevated as objects of intense lust in high definition. Billions and billions of dollars have been made by exploiting this distortion - by selling everything from lust itself to real estate, cars, and every manner of widget known to man by firstly bringing on an erection.
Now, the same, of course, can be said of men - as objects of lust. Just not at all to the same degree.
For women's bodies are decidedly more holistically beautiful with their curves and "hidden features" (internal sex organs) that leaves much to the imagination.
In closing, flee from sexual sin / temptation by making drastic changes to your life. Do whatever it takes to get off the fence regarding this. God hates the lukewarm. And he is not interested in the external (remember Dr. John Piper). Hence, neither should you be.
And do know that my Samson friend and I have already discussed finding another venue to dine at when we rendezvous next. One that assists him in keeping his eyes (& head) out of the ditch.
Thursday, August 5, 2021
Wednesday, August 4, 2021
Monday, August 2, 2021
["How Can You Live With Yourself?"]
An SL is a man with Short Legs. Essentially, his upper body and lower body are more or less equal in length. Hence, the moniker SL. Therefore, these men aren't tall which is one of those preferred physical attributes for men within our western culture. My assumption regarding this particular preferential treatment falls in line with the notion that physical stature equates to physical strength or somesuch.
The first SL I came to know was the Operator of the Chick-A-Fil I worked at in high school within Northpark Mall. Chris was not on the lower end (unreasonably short in stature) of the SL scale, but nonetheless, he was definitely an SL. I remember looking at his build one day and realizing how equalized his upper and lower body were, yet despite this, it in no way changed my opinion of him as a man. He simply looked like what I'd come to know as Chris - my boss, my friend, and all in all, a surrogate father in many ways.
A lot of guys are SLs. Many of which are very successful men, but mostly stratospheric success comes to men who're not SLs. At least whilst taking into consideration all of the non-SLs (tall guys) lumped together collectively.
An SL friend had lunch with me recently, and he implied that were he me, he'd not have motivation to live life. He did this via a rhetorical question that I'd never been asked prior (& believe me, I've been asked some humdingers). And the root of this implication was grounded within the notion that I'm permanently disabled (due to my sexuality) with no means of even internally (to myself) pretending otherwise.
I've been pondering this affront / his point of view for some time since, and this has got me thinking a lot about what I've observed of him over the years that we've been friends.
My SL friend wears lifts or cowboy boots almost exclusively. In fact, throughout my time of knowing him (+/-4 years), there's only been one occasion when he was not "artificially heightened". And I distinctly remember this occasion for his stature was +/-1.5" less, and this was quite the noticeable difference.
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This same SL friend likes to tout the hotness of his wife and how much regular sexual intimacy they participate in. Too, he's not one bit remiss to point out other hot women and how decidedly alluring to horny, heterosexual men they truly are (according to his point of view).
Therefore, as you may sense here, the majority of his confidence is rooted in a distinct heterosexual narrative.
Did I happen to mention that my SL friend is a pastor? In turn, this further complicates what I'm to think of his adjudication of Rob.
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You'll recall my participation within the Samson Society Blue Ridge retreat a few weeks back. This retreat was co-lead by my first Silas who now resides in Mobile, AL. The period of time that he and I were formally connected (Silas to Silee & vice versa) was during the latter third of 2010 to first quarter of 2012. And it's important to note that our relationship ended swiftly. It occurred via a schism that I never imagined would eventually be mended, resulting in complete relational (supernatural) restoration. But it did. My participation within the Samson Society Blue Ridge retreat was testimony to that unbelievable restoration.
Did I also mention that my first Silas from long ago was also (at that time, but no longer) a pastor?
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I love the church. For without it, I'd certainly not be a Christian. Plus, I'd not have met my sweet wife, Angie. Too, I revere more than any other vocation the pastorate. In fact, one of the primary reasons I agreed to befriend my first Silas was due to him being a pastor at the time.
Pastors make little money despite (at least within the Presbyterian Church) being required to obtain lengthy credentialing. They often experience burnout and yet are expected to give of themselves - above and beyond - what they initially envisioned their calling to be. Many of them have few real friends who aren't parishioners within the church they themselves pastor. And most, hope forlornly for more affirmation and less criticism, though few receive it. It's a tough, tough job. If not the toughest job.
Pastors' families are never out of the spotlight. Forever expected to be perfectly suited to their roles as wife / children of "the man". I cringe at the notion of rearing my own children within that particular paradigm.
As such, based on what I've SOMETIMES witnessed is this informality within their role. A comfortableness that's almost in line with being a government employee (bureaucrat). In tandem with that bureaucratic outlook is the notion that so few really want their job to begin with, therefore...I'm free to let my hair down completely. No holds barred.
Now, I'M NOT INSINUATING HERE THAT ALL PASTORS ARE SUPER INFORMAL, GOVERNMENT-EMPLOYEE TYPES.
But I have befriended some who most definitely are (or were). And I'm grateful for this, but also motivated to pray for these men despite the bruising that's come from their own hands.
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Now, let's return to this notion of SLs wearing lifts or cowboy boots to disguise their true height.
The question here is as follows. Are they (internally) better off disguising their SL-ness via their lifts / cowboy boots, or should they simply make peace with their build and stop pretending that they're taller than they truly are?
Another question - Is this method of disguising their true height, taking into consideration all of the implied hoops they go through to maintain the illusion, doing more to falsely bolster their confidence than the illusion is actually attempting to provide?
If you'd allow me to circle all the way back to the beginning of this post, you'll recall me mentioning Rob's archetypical SL. That being the Operator of the Chick-A-Fil during my high school career there. This wonderfully influential man made no attempts to disguise his height, and was altogether at peace with his stature / build. Plus, he knew me just as well as my current pastor friend despite my only being a teen. Yet, he never, ever implied that I was destined to live my life sans hope or peace despite my obvious struggles (which were readily apparent even then).
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In closing, it's hard to make peace with yourself, no matter who you are. Especially whilst putting so much stock in how other's view you. This is a sobering truth that applies to everyone.
But what's worrying is when pastors are struggling more with this than perhaps they should be or want to admit to. I mean, they're pastors. Shouldn't they be the most centered, assured, intrinsically selfless of all of us?
This friendship has now presented a confusing relational quagmire that I've no answer to (which is absolutely okay), but I am now convinced that whilst it not being resolved, said pastor's point of view (projected onto others) is doing some significant distorting.
I do know this. Pastor, get a grip / get some help. We need this of you. So much of our worth is dependent on how you choose to see us to be / become. For you represent our understanding of Jesus - in the flesh.
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