Monthly Archives: December 2009

G0Ys (Spelled with a zero)

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Ahh, the joys of being a man . . .

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G0YS . . .

Seems like a perfect niche for a lot of guys to me, men who don’t identify with homosexuality, but have deep affection, even physical desire, for other men.  G0ys appears to be a movement of sorts, and for a number of reasons I believe a movement in the right direction.

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After reading through g0ys.org and a few other sites, the only thing I find issue with is what appears to be a tendency to discredit stereotypical homosexuality.   It’s fine to celebrate traditional masculinity in its purest form, but I don’t think it’s necessary or productive to call some men sissies or other derogatory terms.  It’s not masculine or admirable to make fun of those who do not see things the same way some of the rest of us do.  Celebrate masculinity and male intimacy, but leave the unnecessary baggage behind.

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From the intro at g0ys.org

Most of the guys who stumble onto the g0ys (spelled w. a zer0) movement are looking for answers to some serious questions about themselves. Most are shocked when they learn that +60% of all guys have similar questions (the majority)! Most (but not all) of these guys have feelings for women, but also deal with internal issues arising from the fact that they also have affections for other guys, too! And, such guys don’t identify as “GAY” at all!

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Don’t identify with “GAY”? No! Guys like us actually find the imagery & stereotypes that are promoted from WITHIN the so-called “gay-male community” to be repugnant to our sensibilities of masculinity & respect. We know instinctively that loving other guys has nothing whatsoever to do with gender-bending, x-dressing or playing the female role! G0YS, -by our very nature reject anything to do with playing inside another person’s butt; -hence we find the entire notion of “anal-sex” to be dirty, degrading & damn-unmasculine. Feel familiar? Know what? G0YS are right!

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Revolutionary Maneuvers

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An erotic tale by Logunede Jones

Don’t you think you could procure a blanket, and loosen my hands? No? Then it shall be as you wish, lieutenant. I will speak as to why you have encountered me here in these conditions. As you recall, you sent me on a reconnaissance mission to follow the rebel Captain Lewis with the purpose of determining where the Continental Army stores its ammunition. Captain Lewis’s imposing musculature and blond locks made him easy to spot from the grove of trees where I hid to spy on their regimental training technique. He led his men in jumping and running and wrestling on the field, before he called off their exercising for the day. Then I followed him down a wooded path to a remote clearing, to this very barn where we now sit, thinking this place to be, perhaps, a seeming storage for ammunition. The captain entered through the main door behind you, so I slipped around the side of the building to the back wall, behind where I am now, where there is only a thin strip of land, separated from a steep riverbank by a row of thorny hedge. Along the back wall I found a rotted-out opening between the planks where I could just manage to see that Captain Lewis was expected. I peeked through the boards to see him embracing a young Indian woman whom I had never seen before, her shiny black hair trailing down her back to her waist. I did not learn her name, but we can call her Necklace of Pearl, a name that will be most appropriate, as you shall hear. They kissed passionately while she began to undress him. It turns out that she had drawn a bath for him here in the barn, so he could refresh himself of his perspirations from the field maneuvers. She unbuttoned his jacket and tunic as he rolled her ample posterior between his knuckles. When she had his shirt off, the differences in his skin tone wrought by the sun’s angry rays were certainly evident, leaving him two-toned red and white, both colors contrasting markedly with the dark chestnut color of her skin. He almost tripped getting out of his breeches, which made his noble parts, already aroused, flop around in the open air beneath their crown of curly gold. His penis struck me as rather wide, and it was even…

My purpose, Sir, is to show you that I do indeed have a keen eye for detail, and that your trust in me for this mission was not misplaced. With your permission, I shall continue. Captain Lewis lowered himself into the bathing basin, over there to your right, which as you can see is a rather large, oblong one made of wood. Necklace of Pearl made as if to pour some of the warmed water onto his chest, but smiled piquishly as she let it run down her own, making transparent the thin cotton of her embroidered blouse and awakening her nipples. Then she did pour the bathwater on the captain, proceeding straightaway to lather his chest and what I could see of his legs sticking up over the rim of the basin. As she bent over him, he pulled her blouse down over her bosom, exposing her quite large and wet breasts to his ardent gaze. He did not know, yet, that he had exposed them to mine own eyes as well. He made to lick and suck them, cradling one at a time of her bounteous bosoms in both hands as to fondle them and knead them like dough.

At this moment there came a knock at the door, a rap that seemed to be a coded rhythm. Necklace of Pearl smiled. “’Tis the sergeant,” she said, “the man I’ve chosen for us this afternoon. Let him think he is alone, at first.”

Such was the captain’s haste that he did not bother to dry off his body, but only leapt from the basin in like manner as he came into the world, and crouched behind a hay bale not two feet in front of me, obstructing my vision of anything other than his glistening buttocks. I held my breath. I heard the sergeant enter and greet the girl. It seemed that the captain, at least, could see what was happening. Then there was only silence for some time, during which the captain, I could not help but observe, tugged repeatedly on his penis as it dangled between his legs, and pulled gently on his own sac. I was of a mind to follow his example, as I sat observing the pink pucker of the cleft between his buttocks perched just in front of my eyes, but I could risk no such movement to the possibility of discovery. I heard the splash of feet entering water, and began to assume that the sergeant was commencing where the captain had left off. ‘Twas a most confusing but intriguing state of affairs, as I’m sure you can imagine, Sir.

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John Singer Sargent

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John_Singer_Sargent_-_selfportrait_1906

Everything John Singer Sargent painted was exquisite, whether it was his landscapes, his portraits, or his forays into impressionism.  His work on male nudes was rarely seen.  As an author of novels about male beauty, I believe his drawings and paintings of male nudes were emotional expressions of the same.  His subjects, though fit, are magnificent because they depict images of men not overly idealized.

John Singer Sargent (January 12, 1856 – April 14, 1925) was an American painter, and a leading portrait painter of his era.  During his career, he created roughly 900 oil paintings and more than 2,000 watercolors, as well as countless sketches and charcoal drawings. His oeuvre documents worldwide travel, from Venice to the Tyrol, Corfu, the Middle East, Montana, Maine, and Florida.

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A life-long bachelor, Sargent was extremely private regarding his personal life, although the painter Jacques-Émile Blanche, who was one of his early sitters, said after his death that Sargent’s sex life “was notorious in Paris, and in Venice, positively scandalous. He was a frenzied bugger.” The truth of this may never be established. Some scholars have suggested that Sargent was homosexual. He had personal associations with Prince Edmond de Polignac and Count Robert de Montesquiou.

JohnSingerSargentNude Study of Thomas E. McKeller

His male nudes reveal complex and well-considered artistic sensibilities about the male physique and male sensuality; this can be particularly observed in his portrait of Thomas E. McKeller, but also in Tommies Bathing, nude sketches for Hell and Judgement, and his portraits of young men, like Bartholomy Maganosco and Head of Olimpio Fusco. However, there were many friendships with women, as well, and a similar suppressed sensualism informs his female portrait and figure studies (notably Egyptian Girl, 1891). The likelihood of an affair with Louise Burkhardt, the model for Lady with the Rose, is accepted by Sargent scholars.

JohnSingerSargent_Nude Egyptian Girl

Though his father was a patient teacher of basic subjects, young Sargent was a rambunctious child, more interested in outdoor activities than his studies. As his father wrote home, “He is quite a close observer of animated nature.” Contrary to his father, his mother was quite convinced that traveling around Europe, visiting museums and churches, would give young Sargent a satisfactory education. Several attempts to give him formal schooling failed, owning mostly to their itinerant life. She was a fine amateur artist and his father was a skilled medical illustrator. Early on, she gave him sketchbooks and encouraged drawing excursions. Young Sargent worked with care on his drawings, and he enthusiastically copied images from the Illustrated London News of ships and made detailed sketches of landscapes. FitzWilliam had hoped that his son’s interest in ships and the sea might lead him toward a naval career.

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Penis Size

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Penis Size in Different Cultures

From Trojan Condoms

The very fact that so much effort has – and continues to be – devoted to measuring average penis size shows that it is a matter of great concern. Just as with other parts of the body, different men have different penis sizes. Unlike other parts of the body, however, this fact is deeply disturbing to most men. It really matters to them whether their penis is smaller than most or larger – and everyone wants to be at least average in size. The reason, of course, is that men define themselves in terms of their virility and power. The penis is a symbol of virility. In a wide variety of cultures across the world, penis size is perceived as an index of virility and power.

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Historically, the phallus was at the center of many ancient cultures. The ancient Greeks and Romans decorated their every day artifacts with pictures of penises. A famous Roman fresco in the Pompeii ruins shows a rich man using his enormous penis to counterbalance bags of money on a scale, and giant stone penises dating back to the 3rd century B.C. are scattered around the Temple of Dionysus on the Greek island of Delos. In fact, different types of phallic imagery can be found in the artistic traditions of most cultures, worldwide. The walls of Hindu temples in India are adorned with explicit erotic scenes where representations of the penis are prevalent, a study conducted on the cultural history of the penis in medieval Iceland* concluded that penis size defined men’s social status at the time, and soldiers of the Ottoman Empire supposedly publicly posted the measurements of their penises for their enemies to admire. The significance of the penis in all cultural traditions is undeniable. Everywhere, it was and still is the symbol of procreation (man’s creative power), fertility and love.

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The degree of preoccupation with penis size varies slightly from culture to culture – but it’s there in most cultures. The uninhibited expression of these concerns did not of course continue through the ages. Religion (especially the three monotheist religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam) soon put a stop to that. Today, there are apparently two reasons why men care about penis size. One is the inherent competitiveness of men. A man actually feels superior to another man if he knows, or believes, his penis to be bigger. The more competitive a society is, the more men will be obsessed with this issue. The second reason is the belief that a penis’ size affects a man’s sexual performance and his attractiveness to women.

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While this seems to be true everywhere, it has recently attained much more significance in western cultures than elsewhere. Nowhere else is body image as important as it is today in the West. The media in the West plays an important role is promoting this concern, and men with big penises are depicted as being successful and happy, while smaller men are either pitiful or comic. The pornographic film industry is one case in point. Men in the West are apparently becoming as obsessed with penis size as are western women with issues such as weight. The difference is that they don’t admit it openly – out of embarrassment, and also for fear of discovering that they are smaller than average.

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