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Test, Seek, Pray, Fight: The Pursuit of Holy Affections | Desiring God

A Man's Greatest Aphrodisiac Is His Perceived Ability To Provide A Woman With Security. Enter Prince Coitus.

During my high school days ('88-'90), there was a late-weeknight call-in "sex talk" show that was broadcast on cable television.  Mind you, this show wasn't available via premium channel, and it was not filmed in front of a live audience.  Instead, it was perhaps on some fledgling network in a fairly nondescript studio (similar to Larry King Live!).  Very rarely would I be up late enough (11 PM CST) to chance upon it (too the male host was incredibly obnoxious), but one night I do recall paying it heed due to there being a very handsome young man on set as an "in-studio guest".  

What intrigued me most about this particular broadcast was how this handsome bachelor proceeded to coolly articulate his rationale behind his (& other men's) nonchalant approach to promiscuity.  From there, he took it a step further and explained his thinking regarding how his female lovers choose to perceive him as a playa.

And this guy may have been prostituting himself to women.  I honestly can't remember.

Nonetheless, as a 17-18-year-old teenager, this served as an excellent lesson regarding cheap, hetero, sexual relationships.  As such, it truly has stood the test of time as I've lived out my life.

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The cul-de-sac we've lived on for 23 years is home to ten other "garden (small) homes".  Six of the overall eleven are 3-bedroom while the remainder are 2-bedroom.  There're three (not Medicare-age) singles living within these single-family homes, two of which are "relationally active".  

What I mean by that is both have significant others that visit often, and it's not unusual for them to stay overnight, even for weeks at a time.  

One of these two "relationally active" homeowners is female and other male.  Both have children, some of which pay a visit on occasion while others seemingly come and go at will.  

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Prince Charming is how the young, handsome in-studio guest (late-night '80s sex talk call-in show) described his harem of female lovers imagining him to be as they chose to participate in relationally non-committal intercourse.  

As we know from the fairy tale, Prince Charming was Snow White's savior.  He restored her health, having come for her during her time of "eternal sleep".  Therein, going forward, it's implied that his presence radically transforms her existence which leads to abundance, joy, and eternal happiness.  It's a fate that's fit for a Disney film, and it is deeply ingrained within the psyche of our culture.

The young, handsome in-studio guest went on to describe how he could sense this mirage each and every time he'd achieve participating within consensual intercourse, based on the woman's receptiveness towards him.  He did, in fact, acknowledge his physical attractiveness (which perfectly played into her fantasies), but made it clear that each of the women he'd engaged with sexually were unwilling to spread their legs out of a raw desire to fuck (which was his MO).  Instead, they were perpetuating a romantic fantasy throughout coitus that was hinged on safety, stability, and hopefulness (that he'd surely bring abundance, joy and eternal happiness).

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Our home is positioned at the entrance point of our cul-de-sac.  As such, we have more frontage than any of the other ten homes, by far.  Therefore, me being in and out a fair amount, I can't help but see who's coming and going at all hours of the day and night.  Loverboys (& girls) make their way to our neighbors' abodes regularly, all the while never acknowledging Rob as they do so.  I find myself, at times, attempting to make eye contact when they pass but to no avail.  Me thinks this is the case due to fact that I'm no doubt a REAL, LIVE HUSBAND.

Men absolutely crave wet pussy.  As much as they can get and as often as they can get it.  Women want security.  Even if it's fantastical security.  And they'll (oftentimes begrudgingly) jettison their chaste in order to compromisingly receive it. 

What's fascinating to me is the power of the fantasy.  Females are taught, from an early age, to firmly believe in Prince Charming in tandem with what romantic love looks like.  

My question is, when do they become more involved with the fantasy, thereby removing their better judgement relative to reality?  In other words, knowing that they'd be better off, for all parties involved, to steer clear of perpetuating yet another sexual relationship, why do they allow themselves to not see men's intentions clearly (zero long-term commitment / artificial security)?  

Fantasy, within women's minds is amazingly affective.  I have to wonder if intercourse (resulting in orgasmic pleasure) doesn't further concretize the illusion as the brain releases hormones in line with the sex act itself.

Prince Coitus?     

Hamstring Yourself (For Your Own Good) While You're (Still) Young. This Will Best Prepare You To Re-Prioritize Entertainment Tech Well Into Middle-Age.

I broke my Californian Morman Silee's heart last night by bearing down on him for recently snapping up the latest & greatest pocket computer.

He couldn't answer logically why he'd justified the purchase.  Instead, he just laughed nervously as I continued to interrogate.  

So, why exactly should he be scorned for owning the latest, most advanced smartphone?

To make him think.  So few people actually do this anymore.

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This is why I'm a card-carrying Samson guy:

There is nothing on Earth I enjoy more than watching videos of gorgeous, hot guys having sex with each other.  Particularly hot guys who are really into each other's bodies.  All along, giving the impression, to the audience (me!), that they have a love for each other that's being expressed sexually.  Too, it's icing on the cake if these videos are well lit ("high" production values), and the set (where the sex is taking place) is seemingly well designed.  

To take it a step further, I like following certain gay porn models by watching video after video of them having sex with various other men or mens (or just themselves).  It's a way for me to privately "get to know" / form a "relationship" these men who're dedicated to their field.  Especially from the standpoint of how they specifically engage with their onscreen lovers.  

In all honesty, watching these muscled, hairy studs orgasm is the zenith of pleasurable experiences for Rob.  Seeing this is like winning the lottery!  Especially when the camera captures their countenance as they're climaxing.  Seeing their eyes roll back into their skulls as they hold their breath / moan in ecstasy...losing all semblance of respectable cool.  This is what I (my flesh) live to see!

And as you know, dear reader, the Internet is / was designed for PORN!

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The absolute first line of defense that I have against satiating my fleshly craving to consume videos of men having sex is to pull back far enough to attack the problem via access.

You cannot run if you're crippled.  It's as simple as that.

Hence, in order to properly advocate for myself, I had to willingly hamstring relative to tech.  And this approach has served me incredibly well.

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So, who am I exactly relative to tech?

The Turners don't own a television other than a 27" Sony CRT that I purchased back in 2000 ($549.99 at Best Buy) when I passed the Architectural Registration Exam.  It's in an entertainment cabinet at the foot of our bed in the master bedroom.  It isn't tied to CATV or an Internet streaming service.  All this behemoth is capable of doing is playing DVD video at 480i resolution (it does have a 16:9 widescreen viewing mode).

My wife, Angie, bought an Internet tablet years ago, but I don't have the passcode to unlock.  We do not subscribe to any Internet streaming service nor are we a member of Amazon Prime.

My smartphone is so antiquated that it's really only suited for calls, texting, and navigation.  It will take photos / videos, but it has so little memory that it won't hold too many.  I am not engaged in social media at all.  The notion of using my pocket computer to make video / photo selfies sounds about as interesting (& productive) as watching (or starring in) episodes of Teletubbies.  

I do not and would not ever own a computer watch.  

The laptop I have at home (to engage in the virtual Samson Society group, "Brain Changers", on Sunday afternoons) is a dinosaur.  Surfing the Internet is possible, but it's very laborious.  I often get the "High Memory Usage!" warning whilst having multiple tabs open within the browser.  

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I came to adjudicate early on as a young man (pre-Internet) that it would greatly benefit me to become a contrarian to westerner's passionate pursuit of media consumption if I wanted to live any form of a fulfilling, Christ-centric life.  Having been reared within a household where television broadcasting (CATV) was consumed nightly (weekdays & weekends), it didn't take me long to wake up to how much precious time I'd wasted staring at my parents' 20" Toshiba CRT television.  

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Be smart, dear reader.  If you enjoy lust as much as Rob does (& are as convicted as I am relative to its spiritual toxicity), put yourself on a very short (hardware / software) leash today.  It's your first line of defense against being normal.  

From there, use your time to read or write a book / poetry, play or compose a song on a musical instrument, exercise, volunteer, visit a friend, plant / tend to a garden, etc.

Anything is more respectable than staring at a screen, consuming mind-rotting content that will do you no good down the road.  

Lagniappe

"The Forest Of Struggle" - JR Everhart

I was dialoguing recently with a young man regarding his lackluster dating experiences, and he mentioned a fetish website that he was using to meet his physical needs.  I immediately warned him before sharing some of my story.  Unfortunately, I believe my words fell on deaf ears.  And such is the case with most of us when it comes to feeling like we deserve to have our (physical) needs met.  In so many ways, I'm just as guilty of taking advantage of this flawed logic.  I still find myself looking to porn or, at the very least, memories of past experiences to meet my needs.  In all honesty, I’ve never fully ceased acting out.  Obviously when I was married, my wife and I had each other to meet our individual needs.  But today, as a divorced man, it’s tough.  I have been on and off the rollercoaster more times than I can count, and the reality is:  Once you’ve tasted this forbidden fruit, it’s very hard to not return, all under the guise of sexual gratification.  Throughout my eleven years of being involved within recovery counseling and ministry, I’ve never met a man - who was still young enough to have a sex drive - who wasn't struggling with this particular albatross.  Obviously, there're those out there who've found their libidos quelled completely, but all-in-all, a healthy, single man seems to have all the cards stacked against him. 

At times, I feel as if I’ve dug as deep as I can in therapeutic workarounds.  All-in-all, this work has brought me immeasurable freedom.  But it still never made me not desire sexual gratification.  Nonetheless, it’s definitely easier than it was over a decade ago.  By admitting to this, I realize it isn’t a popular idea, but I’m simply wanting to be honest.  

Experiencing sexual gratification feels natural to me.  That being said, viewing porn / ruminating on sexual fantasy feeds the flesh.  These are two diametrically opposed realities that I'm faced with presently.

"I Found Jesus In Prison..." Ethan #16

"For it is true, we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give or, more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted.  And so, it's those we live with and should know who elude us. But we can still love them - we can love them completely without completely understanding."

 

Norman Maclean ~ A River Runs Through It

 

 

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"It's Okay To Win!" - JR Everhart

 Failure is still a pathway to winning. So many times I’ve heard stories of successful people having had to suffer many things in order to find success. There’s no doubt suffering is a major part of the human experience. But in my life I spent so many years struggling and feeling like a big fat loser that once success started showing up in my life, it felt foreign to me. 

I grew up very poor and was the 11th of 12 kids in my family.  Needless to say, I learned the art of being content early on in life.  From there, I was out on my own by 17, taking on the world as a very naive and uncultured country boy from WV.  I’ll never forget how amazed I was when I started working on the road and traveling to major cities.  Not to mention that first time at the beach at 18.  I had so much to EXPERIENCE, yet all the while, I was as blind as a bat to the effects my childhood trauma was having on me as a young adult.  From there, I spent the meat of my adult life (+/-20 years) as a bull in a china shop, attempting to rear my children in spite of my two divorces in tandem with a host of failed romantic relationships.  For many years my life just felt like one failure after another.  And this was especially true when the third divorce came knocking at my door.  

Ultimately, never did I think I would ever be as happy and secure in my skin as I am now. 

I can remember the very first time I realized my compulsive behavior and dysfunction was no longer running my life.  It was like I had lost part of my identity.  It was comparable to the relief one feels when the neighborhood bully moves away.  I felt free for the first time in a very long time.  There was finally hope for me.  Hope that perhaps my gifts and talents wouldn't go to waste.  Today, I'm many years beyond that and experiencing success on levels I could have never dreamed.  Nonetheless, it just feels weird.

In conclusion, I keep waiting for the bubble to pop.  As a result, I struggle to let go of the assumption that disaster may very well be waiting around the corner of every decision I make.  As such, this is my reality.  

I’ve learned, just in the past couple of years, that it’s okay to win.  And that NOT EVERY WIN WILL BE FOLLOWED BY DISASTER.  I’m extremely thankful to be free of that pessimistic outlook.  Specifically, God has established me at the table of my enemies more times than I can count.  I’m so grateful and blessed that he loved me enough to challenge me to grow beyond my narrow vision of life.  I am nothing without him, and all glory belongs to him and him alone.  He’s sent so many people across my path that initially seemed suspect in their motives, but eventually played a vital role in my maturing forward.  

Nothing irrigates the ground of growth like a storm, and God knows I’ve weathered my share of those.  But I am still here!  Still holding my head high.  And yes, I still do have problems, but now I have healthy coping skills in place to navigate this rollercoaster we call life.  I'm convinced that health and success are available to anyone brave enough to walk on the hot coals of personal growth and self-inventory, accepting the hardships of being sifted like wheat and refined in the refiner's fire.  

It’s not a road for the faint of heart.  The strong grow, and the weak self-medicate via the low hanging fruit of self-gratification.  All the right choices are on the table in front of us every day.  It’s up to us to choose our pathway, no one is coming to make those choices for us.  And we all live by the choices we make.