you scandalous hard core dick
*imagery
A man is walking down the street minding his own business. He is eating a chocolate bar and doesn't care about the world around him. He is dedicated to that chocolate bar. Coming towards him in the opposite direction, is another man, also minding his own business. He has his face buried in a jar of peanut butter. He too, is oblivious to the world around him. They crash into each other and the peanut butter and chocolate fly up into the air. The two men fall to the ground and watch, as if in slow motion, the peanut butter and chocolate sail into the air and gracefully fall to the earth. The jar of peanut butter lands right side up and the chocolate lands inside it. The two men, without exchanging a word, stand up, pick up the new delicacy, stare at it for a moment and begin to share it. Smiles for everyone...
Yes, it was a commercial for Reece's peanut butter cups. And what it said to me was much more than just, "buy a Reece's". I noticed the other things, that I am sure you did. One, who walks down the street eating just peanut butter out of a jar... Who does that? Two, the two men never spoke to each other and they didn't seem to care that they were sharing food with a complete stranger. No thought of germs, it was just a yummy snack. No fighting, no hassle, no "hey! Watch where you're going." or "You dick! You just fucked up my chocolate (or peanut butter)!" These two men just seemed to accept their fate and make the best of it.
It would seem that pleasure and the ability to chase after it, is a major force in life. I would almost say it's the only driving force in life. It can blind you and make you make foolish decisions. But it also tells us who we are and makes it possible to endure the tougher times that life can bring. If life was truly all pain, all the time, then why would we do it? Surely there is pleasure somewhere that gives us hope that the pain will soon end or can be alleviated to a certain degree, from time to time. We live for those moments or with that belief.
I have received a lot of emails lately from people that I thought were friends. Secretly, they were reading the blog without contacting me about it and upon the revelation of either my sex life or my attitudes toward politics or toward children or whatever, they have decided to cease their relationship with me. If I had only received one of these, "never talk to us again" emails, I would have been okay with it. But I have received 14. It's strange that the only time these people choose to contact me is when it's too say, "We never want to talk to you again." Of the 14 Dear Johns, Two of them were from couples that thought that I was describing them in the swinger post. I am not sure why so many of my readers assume that, especially the ones that I don't know at all. If you recall, I had this problem a few months back. A lot of people thought that I was writing about them and they felt violated. Their emails were assaults on me. "How dare you!" and "So you really do think I'm fat." I will let you know if I post something with you in mind, if not, then it isn't you.
The other Dear Johns, break down like this... Two male friends don't like the bi stuff and even though I have never done anything to make them uncomfortable, are concerned that I would now. Their lack of understanding was an odd turn of events, but their phobic reaction was a real surprise. Both of them seem to live life without too much morality or concern for it. They never seemed to care too much what anyone was all about. I guess that is easier to do with a stranger and not with a friend. Three couples that I was not a swinger with are worried that I want to be with them. Their attitude being that I was secretly working out a plan to get them to have sex with me. Again, surprising. And the rest were worried that I was either a pedophile, wanted to abuse women or would vote democrat. What do you do with all of this?
As a semi-charming writer, I thought these posts were pretty direct. Yes, I do tend to add a lot of metaphor and parable to my work and there are deep rivers of humor that run through my writing, but there is no malice and I am not telling tales out of school. I am not condoning some of the things I write about, I am just making us think about them. I spend my days trying to think about things that make us uncomfortable and trying to figure out why. I write about them because we, as a society, tend to brush them under the rug or bury them as far away from our minds as we can. I think this is the kind of thinking that ruins us and makes us worthless humans. When we don't want to talk about something, and we live our life avoiding things, it makes us weak and devalues our happiness. It makes it false. It makes happiness a superficial existence. So I do think about it, as uncomfortable and outrageous, and I do my best to understand it. That way, at the end of the day, what I do for myself isn't a cover up or phony. I truly appreciate it.
I guess this is the first week of writing that showed me what it can mean to be a writer. Sometimes baring your soul can be entertaining, enlightening and sometimes, it can cut you to the core. Your opinions, seemingly, have some weight with me. I guess I have to admit that too myself. I appreciate the love, but I also have to appreciate the hate. Otherwise the love isn't merited. It would be unbalanced if I thought that I should only listen to the praise and not the criticism. It's tough, but I like it.
I love the catharsis of writing. I like putting my thoughts in front of me so I can read them. It seems to alleviate the pressure of having to remember them and I also feel that I am creating something. I have created something that others will see and perhaps we can talk about it. That way I am not alone in all this thought. I don't expect others to agree, but I do want them to talk. (this is a super heavy duty request of most people) I love hearing back from my readership about what you felt about it. I don't expect every post to be perfect or for everyone to like it. I know that even the more dedicated readers have been offended, saddened or shocked in some way by one post or another. Some people take these personal and some of you let it get to you. It's in those times that I ask you to stand up, pick up the peanut butter jar, and without a word, try it. Believe that it's not going to be completely bad and that you don't always have to dwell on the recent mishap. The writing, and life, will get better. And whatever the mishap, perhaps something good and new will come out of it and if you dwell on the negative, you won't be able to enjoy the new pleasure you have discovered.
*Avoid this analogy if you are allergic to peanuts, peanut butter or chocolate.
A man is walking down the street minding his own business. He is eating a chocolate bar and doesn't care about the world around him. He is dedicated to that chocolate bar. Coming towards him in the opposite direction, is another man, also minding his own business. He has his face buried in a jar of peanut butter. He too, is oblivious to the world around him. They crash into each other and the peanut butter and chocolate fly up into the air. The two men fall to the ground and watch, as if in slow motion, the peanut butter and chocolate sail into the air and gracefully fall to the earth. The jar of peanut butter lands right side up and the chocolate lands inside it. The two men, without exchanging a word, stand up, pick up the new delicacy, stare at it for a moment and begin to share it. Smiles for everyone...
Yes, it was a commercial for Reece's peanut butter cups. And what it said to me was much more than just, "buy a Reece's". I noticed the other things, that I am sure you did. One, who walks down the street eating just peanut butter out of a jar... Who does that? Two, the two men never spoke to each other and they didn't seem to care that they were sharing food with a complete stranger. No thought of germs, it was just a yummy snack. No fighting, no hassle, no "hey! Watch where you're going." or "You dick! You just fucked up my chocolate (or peanut butter)!" These two men just seemed to accept their fate and make the best of it.
It would seem that pleasure and the ability to chase after it, is a major force in life. I would almost say it's the only driving force in life. It can blind you and make you make foolish decisions. But it also tells us who we are and makes it possible to endure the tougher times that life can bring. If life was truly all pain, all the time, then why would we do it? Surely there is pleasure somewhere that gives us hope that the pain will soon end or can be alleviated to a certain degree, from time to time. We live for those moments or with that belief.
I have received a lot of emails lately from people that I thought were friends. Secretly, they were reading the blog without contacting me about it and upon the revelation of either my sex life or my attitudes toward politics or toward children or whatever, they have decided to cease their relationship with me. If I had only received one of these, "never talk to us again" emails, I would have been okay with it. But I have received 14. It's strange that the only time these people choose to contact me is when it's too say, "We never want to talk to you again." Of the 14 Dear Johns, Two of them were from couples that thought that I was describing them in the swinger post. I am not sure why so many of my readers assume that, especially the ones that I don't know at all. If you recall, I had this problem a few months back. A lot of people thought that I was writing about them and they felt violated. Their emails were assaults on me. "How dare you!" and "So you really do think I'm fat." I will let you know if I post something with you in mind, if not, then it isn't you.
The other Dear Johns, break down like this... Two male friends don't like the bi stuff and even though I have never done anything to make them uncomfortable, are concerned that I would now. Their lack of understanding was an odd turn of events, but their phobic reaction was a real surprise. Both of them seem to live life without too much morality or concern for it. They never seemed to care too much what anyone was all about. I guess that is easier to do with a stranger and not with a friend. Three couples that I was not a swinger with are worried that I want to be with them. Their attitude being that I was secretly working out a plan to get them to have sex with me. Again, surprising. And the rest were worried that I was either a pedophile, wanted to abuse women or would vote democrat. What do you do with all of this?
As a semi-charming writer, I thought these posts were pretty direct. Yes, I do tend to add a lot of metaphor and parable to my work and there are deep rivers of humor that run through my writing, but there is no malice and I am not telling tales out of school. I am not condoning some of the things I write about, I am just making us think about them. I spend my days trying to think about things that make us uncomfortable and trying to figure out why. I write about them because we, as a society, tend to brush them under the rug or bury them as far away from our minds as we can. I think this is the kind of thinking that ruins us and makes us worthless humans. When we don't want to talk about something, and we live our life avoiding things, it makes us weak and devalues our happiness. It makes it false. It makes happiness a superficial existence. So I do think about it, as uncomfortable and outrageous, and I do my best to understand it. That way, at the end of the day, what I do for myself isn't a cover up or phony. I truly appreciate it.
I guess this is the first week of writing that showed me what it can mean to be a writer. Sometimes baring your soul can be entertaining, enlightening and sometimes, it can cut you to the core. Your opinions, seemingly, have some weight with me. I guess I have to admit that too myself. I appreciate the love, but I also have to appreciate the hate. Otherwise the love isn't merited. It would be unbalanced if I thought that I should only listen to the praise and not the criticism. It's tough, but I like it.
I love the catharsis of writing. I like putting my thoughts in front of me so I can read them. It seems to alleviate the pressure of having to remember them and I also feel that I am creating something. I have created something that others will see and perhaps we can talk about it. That way I am not alone in all this thought. I don't expect others to agree, but I do want them to talk. (this is a super heavy duty request of most people) I love hearing back from my readership about what you felt about it. I don't expect every post to be perfect or for everyone to like it. I know that even the more dedicated readers have been offended, saddened or shocked in some way by one post or another. Some people take these personal and some of you let it get to you. It's in those times that I ask you to stand up, pick up the peanut butter jar, and without a word, try it. Believe that it's not going to be completely bad and that you don't always have to dwell on the recent mishap. The writing, and life, will get better. And whatever the mishap, perhaps something good and new will come out of it and if you dwell on the negative, you won't be able to enjoy the new pleasure you have discovered.
*Avoid this analogy if you are allergic to peanuts, peanut butter or chocolate.
posted by Daniel Loomis | 8:44 AM
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