tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72365596397816792152023-11-16T03:02:01.188-05:00Wirthmore ThoughtThe Official Blog of Adam WirthmoreAdam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-44022295623918565662012-12-03T00:05:00.002-05:002012-12-03T00:05:33.855-05:00Relationships - Part V<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 11.6pt;">
In August of 2007, the summer
before my senior year of high school, I visited some schools in California with
my parents. First we hit up the San Francisco Bay area and checked out Berkley
and Stanford, then down to southern California to see CalPoly and UCLA. While I
was over there, I did some soul searching. And by soul searching I mean I snuck
out at night and hit up the 18+ bars in San Francisco and LA to see if I really
liked the gay scenes on the west coast. It was interesting to see the
similarities and contrasts between San Fran and LA. Overall, I liked both, and
it seemed both detested the other for one reason or another, almost as if their
was some sort of sibling rivalry going on between the two. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 11.6pt;">
While in San Francisco, I went to
my first gay establishment. I remember whipping out my dick and showing the
drag queen at the front door to gain free entry, but I had taking an Adderall
before going out, so her look of approval must have been a lie. Still, I got in
for free and saved ten bucks: being a whore in San Francisco, check. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU15yL4KR4VcBlGhwv-1CQ2bD8dQSCEpNK18bSm38p-MRzxTrD1gy9nQrVDZu_QzV6Znv0qG1ekYgcWrrpNuPdn9ekUFigrOYKnwRcewrDq0SF-k-4PbfxxxEZ6hFHUI2MNq473zdJwMHj/s1600/mqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU15yL4KR4VcBlGhwv-1CQ2bD8dQSCEpNK18bSm38p-MRzxTrD1gy9nQrVDZu_QzV6Znv0qG1ekYgcWrrpNuPdn9ekUFigrOYKnwRcewrDq0SF-k-4PbfxxxEZ6hFHUI2MNq473zdJwMHj/s1600/mqdefault.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 11.6pt;">
Anyway, I was dancing at this
place, and I remember how strange the whole thing was. Random guys were so
willing to just grind up on me without asking. And here I was, use to asking
girls politely at school formals if they would like to dance before subtly
grinding up on them in front of our faculty’s watchful eye. I remember feeling
unsure how to decline or get out of a grinding that was not consensual. In
fact, I almost left with a guy I had no interest in, but then had a miraculous
moment of clarity, just told him off and peaced. I then tagged a long with a
bunch of gays and some straights more my type, i.e. under 30. We went to some
kind of breakfast place and after that I went home to the Hyatt where my
parents and I were staying.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 11.6pt;">
When I was in LA, I ended up
befriending a Filipino guy who left a lasting impression on me. He was friendly
for the sake of being friendly. He also had an ability, which could have been
an act, but felt real as ever to me. After having some drinks and hanging with
him for a little bit, he told me how he could sense and communicate with
ancestors of individuals. I was game, so I asked him if he could give me a
reading. He closed his eyes and held my hand. He said he could sense a maternal
spirit on my father’s side. My father’s mother died when he was only 27 of lung
cancer and my mother once told me how the only time my father ever shed tears was
when he talked about his mother. This grandmother of mine also happen to be the
artistic one in the family and several of her paintings still hang in our home,
one directly over my bed. In fact, I attribute a lot of my artistic and visual
creativity to her. My middle name also happens to be her maiden name. Even
though I was far from ever meeting her, I always felt a sort of spiritual
connection with her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 11.6pt;">
What he said next brought tears
to my eyes, then and even now in writing these words. He said that she was
watching over me, he said that she wanted me to know that I was on the right
path in life, and I should keep doing what I am doing. At a time in my life
when I was trying to figure out if I really knew what I was doing or not, that
message gave me so much comfort. I still wonder whether it was real or not.
Nevertheless, the message still stays with me today; just keep doing what you
are doing and everything will be okay. I’m naturally inquisitive and sometime
question myself too much, and that concept that my grandmother was watching
over me in an approving manner as I sat in a gay bar in LA gave me hope and
confidence, back then and still to this day, to be who I was always meant to be,
me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 11.6pt;">
Later that night, and after some
more substantial under age drinking, I ended up meeting one of his friends. I
don’t remember much beside the fact that he was cute. I ended up going home
with him to the Chateau Marmont. It was a one-night stand that I will not soon
forget… mostly because of the aftermath. I woke up in his bed late, around 10
or 11 am in a daze with a pounding headache and only a few blurred memories
from the night before. I remember fucking him for a while, and then him <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">trying</i> to fuck me, but I was in no state
to endure that kind of pain willingly. I was also still new to bottoming so I
was kind of a bitch about it from what I can remember. But he was a nice enough
guy to not try too hard, and so I went back to fucking him. I want to say his
name was Jeff, but the only thing I remember for sure was the way he smelt. I
think it was some kind of cologne because I will smell it from time to time and
think back to him and that night. After I woke up and gathered my thoughts, I
hoped in a cab and returned home to the hotel where my parents were staying. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 11.6pt;">
I had snuck out the night before.
I also snuck out when we were in San Francisco, and when my mom noticed I was
gone and called, I assured her that I was fine and would be back in a few
hours, and I was. But this time I missed her calls and I could tell from the
voice mails that she would have been frantic over the phone so I decided to
just wait to talk to her and my father in person when I got back. When I walked
into the room, my mom was crying and my father was livid. They had called the
LAPD worried sick about me, thinking I had been kidnapped or raped, or worse. In
my hung over state of mind, I thought the whole thing was so ridiculous. I was
18 now and I was more than capable of handling myself in a big city. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 11.6pt;">
Still, I knew that what I had put
them through was torture. I also, however, felt a sense of disappointment;
disappointment in them for not having faith in my abilities to handle myself.
But they were just being my overly loving parents, and looking back now I
really can’t hold it against them. I was so ready to break free from their
reigns and do it all on my own. I think that was a big part of why I ended up
going to college the farthest away from home out of all my siblings. I needed
to prove it to myself that I could do it all on my own, but more importantly, I
needed to prove it to my mom and dad. I knew I could do it, but they didn’t
seem to. In truth, they did an amazing job raising all of us, and I was merely the
most stubbornly independent of the bunch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b>My senior year of
high school was a busy one. I was student class president, I did the morning
announcements every other day, and I had a lead role in the fall musical, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Anything Goes</i>. In the winter, I was a
captain of the wrestling team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
also participated in the math team and tutored students as a member of the
National Honors Society. I was also somewhat of a rebel without a cause; the snow penis below was made by yours truly. The janitor seemed pretty pleased with it before kicking it over in the middle of first period.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm_9AhVRwdJhRIMFIwKNJjTq4R0mV4ARuoZk-hs9EZvUI6iuSqUHpXY9lAANo5FyL9GylbSafVdQYtqjlDPv_8KhaJrF1_3-BgsQn8tAguxXrsTrpmD5bEuUjE2HMmPEzYa9bhIpKrgAQ/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm_9AhVRwdJhRIMFIwKNJjTq4R0mV4ARuoZk-hs9EZvUI6iuSqUHpXY9lAANo5FyL9GylbSafVdQYtqjlDPv_8KhaJrF1_3-BgsQn8tAguxXrsTrpmD5bEuUjE2HMmPEzYa9bhIpKrgAQ/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As I kept myself busy with class and extra curriculars, my relationships
stagnated. I developed those friendships made both in and out of class and in
my other various activities, but did not pursue anything intimate – besides the
occasional internet hook up. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was around this time that I started using the internet to meet gay
guys. I think it started with something innocent, like Chemistry.com, then I
tried RealJock.com, but when I found out about ManHunt.com, well that’s when my
sexual activity really took off. Towards the end of my senior year, I began
keeping a list of every guy I had sex with (I’m talking full anal penetration).
I did it because I wanted to remain conscious of my number, and I had noticed
that that number was actually higher than I thought once I sat down and wrote
out the names. I had thought I was at around 6 or 7, and it was actually 10 or
11. I won’t tell you what I’m at now, but after 3 years and the 30 some porn
scenes, many of which were threesomes, you can imagine it has gotten up there.
Not only did I keep a list, I noted the date of intercourse, and sometimes even
a grade for his performance, along with his first name or what ever I knew him
as. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The list has also given me a sense of comfort in knowing exactly who I
hooked up with and when. I’m not perfect and I would like to meet the gay who
claims to be. I almost always use protection, but the few times I haven’t it
has plagued my mind until I got myself tested weeks later. Just in case I ever
did contract anything, I wanted to be able to know exactly who I needed to
contact so they could get themselves tested. Luckily, that hasn’t had to
happen. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ve told a bunch of guys and some of my close girl friends about my
list and I’m the only person I know to have such a thing. Overall, it gives me
solace to know, as exactly as possible, my number. I can also say that it has
forced me to pass on hooking up with some guys after I meet them, thinking to
myself, “Do I really want to add this one to list when I get home? Is he really
worthy of the list?”<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Don’t
get me wrong, I’m still very much a slut, but at least I know <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">exactly</i> how big of a slut I am. </div>
</div>
Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-90556466441130052622012-07-11T03:47:00.001-04:002012-07-11T03:49:35.476-04:00Technology Giveth, Taketh Away<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Blurred communication at speeds of
light,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Unites the willing with a narrow
mind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Eyes extend past the scope of
Nature’s might;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Awesome vision to the happily
blind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
In sheltered comfort, blissfully
confined,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Stifled by the absence of outside
air.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Rural independence is left behind,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Hoisted up off the Earth, without
a care.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Perchance–achieve the ideal, if we
dare;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Perfect the Cure, reach a place of
pure grace.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Perhaps–we’re doomed to dig our
own despair;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Perfect the Bomb, efface the human race.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
Though all of us can find cause to protest,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;">
To muddle along is what we do best.</div>
<div style="color: black;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black;">
(c) 2008 </div>
<div style="color: black;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDcgGEcnFP0TaTjnlLFJlGJLwpQOHlRohB1sSQE6_L7AqtSpuXnk-dm_5ioCBzFIqDICPCec0vHUFYUgUafYbGidqHV5cU71hFpvw1lGU2RlUp5KW0SSOBqxPMKZc5er_sli42X-9BKTM/s1600/15137_319667950453_539220453_9499016_6499492_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDcgGEcnFP0TaTjnlLFJlGJLwpQOHlRohB1sSQE6_L7AqtSpuXnk-dm_5ioCBzFIqDICPCec0vHUFYUgUafYbGidqHV5cU71hFpvw1lGU2RlUp5KW0SSOBqxPMKZc5er_sli42X-9BKTM/s320/15137_319667950453_539220453_9499016_6499492_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="color: black;">
<br /></div>
</div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-52014606368210420892012-04-09T07:33:00.003-04:002012-04-09T07:39:40.656-04:00Relationships - Part IV<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><style>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8G7SMsiOssa2N4pCd2JhV_vfBr01GKCeMYxgxGcny25cKkXsGm-wVuFfFes_b9sWn_o2Ky4laQcURJWVrubhJn93dyYoOW5L9ka1HxCXBj36VsoWC7lxaCz_IrTslCuMJHrakTZaYeFh/s1600/Jeep_Cherokee_2-door.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8G7SMsiOssa2N4pCd2JhV_vfBr01GKCeMYxgxGcny25cKkXsGm-wVuFfFes_b9sWn_o2Ky4laQcURJWVrubhJn93dyYoOW5L9ka1HxCXBj36VsoWC7lxaCz_IrTslCuMJHrakTZaYeFh/s200/Jeep_Cherokee_2-door.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Last time I left off, I had just lost my virginity (see Part 3). I was now in the middle of high school, a 16-year-old sophomore with a car, a red Jeep Cherookee, and a group of friends that were united not on common goals and aspirations, but rather a desire to indulge every weekend in drinking and smoking pot. I was always friendly with those that I had honor classes with, but I never hung out with them on the weekend, mostly because while they were doing group projects and study sessions, I was hanging with more social-minded party people. Towards the end of high school, I became closer with my school friends, after having so many shared classes, but in my mind, they just weren’t at my level in terms of wanting to go out every weekend and have fun. My school friends were intellectual and cultured, but were socially immature and just getting around to the whole dating thing. I was not dating anyone, due to the fact that no one I was interested in was “out” in my small suburban high school, but I was still keen on the concepts of sex and dating. So for the most part, I stuck with my sex-drugs-and-alcohol-minded cohorts. There was some cross-over, but the two groups of friends still remain quite separate in my mind. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> The summer of my sophomore year, I finally came out to one of my best friends and long-time crush, Anthony. We were having a fire on the beach, drinking some beers, just me and him. I didn’t have any reason to think he was gay, but I hoped he was. And I had to ask him before anyone else to make sure the feelings were not mutual. As much as I hoped he would say, “I feel the same for you,” I was not disappointed when he didn’t reciprocate. It just reaffirmed that my feeling were not normal and that it was going to be a lot harder to find someone else in my situation; straight-acting yet so gay for some dudes.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Anthony did, however, do me a huge favor of keeping my secret until I was ready to come out publically a year later. I will always respect him and the maturity he possessed at that age.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> A few months later, I finally got the chance to come out to my parents and older sister. All of them were sitting in the computer room of my house. My dad was at the computer showing us something when a porn ad popped up. It was gay porn. My dad tried to be cute, and said, “Oh, Kevin is this for you.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> I had been waiting for a chance to shut him up for a while now and finally, here was my chance. So I responded, “Actually, Dad, I’ve been meaning to tell you guys this for a while and, I’m gay.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> They all stopped dead in their laughter and stared at me. My dad was speechless, my sister’s eyes began to water, my mom asked, “Are you sure? It could just be a phase.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> I told them, “Believe me, I’m sure, I’ve known since I was twelve and the feelings have not gone away.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> My mom began to cry and just said, “And you’ve been dealing with this all on your own?” None of them were at all disappointed, my dad was a little confused but my parents were always very liberal and loving and knew that homosexuality was nothing to necessarily be ashamed of. None of them saw it coming, but they really should have; I was obsessed with rainbows and Lisa Frank as a child, I had not had a girlfriend since middle school, and I’m pretty sure that my dad had walked in on me looking at gay porn on more than one occasion. I later realized that, due to my mannerisms, they really just gave me the benefit of the doubt. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMuvuc-VdB21CAAVpGEQLrlGKKCqlUAEsoiiXL8UqYP81MPYPN6aB-yfswy1DcnYeWZoSGYJURqokCb09xhQ769vPHzw6JGlck3cgv3GSjSElRJ4pHgx5zxoXOUh78u11HLaBfItAGQpU/s1600/198_14121218342_687673342_818962_6409_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMuvuc-VdB21CAAVpGEQLrlGKKCqlUAEsoiiXL8UqYP81MPYPN6aB-yfswy1DcnYeWZoSGYJURqokCb09xhQ769vPHzw6JGlck3cgv3GSjSElRJ4pHgx5zxoXOUh78u11HLaBfItAGQpU/s400/198_14121218342_687673342_818962_6409_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas breakfast at the Schwartz household</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> My sister insisted on me telling my brother soon because she didn’t want to have to harbor that knowledge behind his back, and as much as I agreed, I really didn’t want to tell him. I think I was most afraid of what he would think as my older brother, as my childhood mentor. So when I was out to breakfast with him and his girl friend, I let them know. It was hard for him, I could tell. He was pretty silent and made little eye contact. His girlfriend had to ask most of the follow-up questions. I later found out from my mom that he was not as ashamed of it personally, but more concerned with what his friends would think. Luckily, his friends didn’t care, and more importantly, they didn’t blame him for my sexuality. It did kind of irk me that my brother made it about his friends and his situation rather than the struggle I was going through in coming out of the closet. He is an awesome person, even if a little self-centered at times.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngPkMKcgjpIatbdkgieTDhLvmXvwCK-icRugbWolFRI16Gvc7xrFJ2Tjvi6JO9cBRp0lMfRalDMPMhdxoEk9LBO86u3keuSu5tmZD5foiPLI14xdLAzB6ArIJhsQQvInEpNDIdivUoVMC/s1600/198_14124813342_687673342_819131_5953_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngPkMKcgjpIatbdkgieTDhLvmXvwCK-icRugbWolFRI16Gvc7xrFJ2Tjvi6JO9cBRp0lMfRalDMPMhdxoEk9LBO86u3keuSu5tmZD5foiPLI14xdLAzB6ArIJhsQQvInEpNDIdivUoVMC/s320/198_14124813342_687673342_819131_5953_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At my brother's fraternity family night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> My junior year, I also made the switch from the football team (running back mostly), to the musical where I had a lead role both my that year and my senior. I still remember the casting director’s reaction to my audition; “Where have you been for the past two years?”<br />
<br />
“Playing football.” I responded with a smirk. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6GcpV6T7aXc7YrEy8O7ZtcDiSYesF2bwYJnSbdtDmAexr4RbQAYOCdgfidolvz7IhHhoiAUSC3bVdactw8tle2VwxcdLZeJ6XuQ8W6scYFSklijvby4ctTxDqqSiFXPH5ITMIfpInFt5E/s1600/198_14118428342_687673342_818847_9964_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6GcpV6T7aXc7YrEy8O7ZtcDiSYesF2bwYJnSbdtDmAexr4RbQAYOCdgfidolvz7IhHhoiAUSC3bVdactw8tle2VwxcdLZeJ6XuQ8W6scYFSklijvby4ctTxDqqSiFXPH5ITMIfpInFt5E/s400/198_14118428342_687673342_818847_9964_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the right as Prez in "Pajama Game" my junior year.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> I had come to a point where I hated football, I hated practice, I hated getting yelled at, stressing about it, fucking up because I was stressing, and then getting yelled at again. It was a vicious cycle I wasn’t able to break. The moment after practice ended would be the sweetest time of my day because it was the furthest I was from having to put on the pads again, and stress out some more. I use to sit in class and dread the moment where I would inevitably fuck up on the field and get yelled at again. Maybe the coaches thought their screaming criticisms were encouraging, but for me, I pride myself on what my coaches and mentors think, and that screaming only exacerbated the situation.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLjdEg7trbvkscbLaeI5uPGAqXoa9l925RqKlUVOqJvRo02csyVMCLIi3s2xxhUjeDBz4bVNib_1SQWkEdKPVZ54dMxBO3nHbAHqw_sg1S8ec3nMzgLhdHbXB0wE6xDbheI6k_Ztuk19U8/s1600/230869_7752623342_687673342_494348_4917_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLjdEg7trbvkscbLaeI5uPGAqXoa9l925RqKlUVOqJvRo02csyVMCLIi3s2xxhUjeDBz4bVNib_1SQWkEdKPVZ54dMxBO3nHbAHqw_sg1S8ec3nMzgLhdHbXB0wE6xDbheI6k_Ztuk19U8/s320/230869_7752623342_687673342_494348_4917_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moon Face Martin in "Anything Goes" my senior year.</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Anyway, during the musical, I met Calvin. He was a year ahead of me in school, and not obviously gay, but once you got to know him and all his feminism, then it was clear. He sang beautifully, with more vibrato than any straight man could muster, and he was rather soft spoken but enthusiastic at the same time. I went to his birthday party gathering when I made a silly comment to one of the girls about Calvin being cute. She conveyed that to him, and we started talking. It wasn’t long before we were having sex. One time, we couldn't go to either of our houses, so we drove around in that red Jeep until we came to the elementary school parking lot. It was the weekend so there was no cars or people around. This was a good enough spot, so we hopped in the back and started banging. I always associate his smell with his Greek and Irish background - smells are so enduring in memory.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> We had some good times, but as quickly as it started, it ended. I began to lose interest because I couldn’t see myself bringing Calvin around to hang out with my friends. He just wasn’t at our level maturity wise and I felt like it would have gotten awkward for me. I guess, he just wasn’t the best I could do and I wasn’t particularly proud to be with him. It was more a relationship out of convenience. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> One day, I came to get my backpack which I had left at his house. When I got out of the car, he was waiting out side for me. He said, “I can smell the pot on your breath.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Sorry?” I responded in a sarcastic tone. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> “I just wish you spent half as much time with me as you do with your friends,” he said.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> “I guess that’s the problem,” I stated, “I don’t think this is going to work,” and then I left. At that point, it had only been a month, and I had already fallen out of love with him. Although, in my mind, there was nothing really there to begin with. We were two different types. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Things did get a little weird because we were both in the same class and creative competition team (D.I. – Destination Imagination) together. We used to sit next to each other in class, now he sat away and I migrated towards some of the cooler kids. During D.I. there were times where I could feel him staring at me, longingly, and it just made me even more repulsed by his neediness. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> I’ll always feel a little guilty for chewing him up and spitting him out, but it was an important relationship and milestone for me in figuring out what I was looking for in a guy. Now I knew that if I was going to really date a guy, he would have to be masculine, and he would have to be low-maintenance, but more importantly he would have to be a good friend, someone that makes me laugh, and someone I could feel proud to introduce to my other friends.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> The summer before my senior year, I finally came out to my friends and classmates. I had held off until that point, partly because I was still coming to terms with it myself, but also because I always feared what the upperclassmen would think; I had always looked up to and respected them the most as my mentors and role models. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> But now that I was one of the top dogs, I figured it was my obligation to all the closeted underclassmen to come out and show them that “normal” acting kids like myself, captain of the wrestling team and student class president, could be gay, and it’s okay. No one did that for me, and it made me think being gay was not cool or unacceptable in our town. So I decided during my underclassmen years that I would come out before I graduated in order to be the change I wanted to see.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxPIWpD3h-16liNLql9qppwDEcB7ANhVf7N6u6Cm9jGS9nl6KuI0ld0OTYfAxQeisUKsDUBIuZzXSi8PoBg1wO80XbhTGGZs4JBt2qg8m0z-Iiry92kgvWoDxIW5DyIsSs_-DcLnfqYQGx/s1600/198_14124913342_687673342_819150_1808_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxPIWpD3h-16liNLql9qppwDEcB7ANhVf7N6u6Cm9jGS9nl6KuI0ld0OTYfAxQeisUKsDUBIuZzXSi8PoBg1wO80XbhTGGZs4JBt2qg8m0z-Iiry92kgvWoDxIW5DyIsSs_-DcLnfqYQGx/s400/198_14124913342_687673342_819150_1808_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, dominating.</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"> That night, I was hosting a house party at my place (as usual) and I was sitting with some girls on my couch talking about relationships or something and I remember feeling like this was the time. So I finally told one of my best girl friends, one whom I had known since first grade, “I have to tell you something, I’m gay.” She obviously did not keep this quite and began asking more questions so that when ever anyone else came by and asked what we were talking about, I would simply respond, “I’m gay,” and continue on with explaining how I figured it out and how I had kept it a secret for all these years. I will always remember that night as my unintended, but self-initiated, coming out party. By the next day, everyone in my school knew. Funny how quickly gossip like that gets around...<br />
<br />
Apparently, I was just that kid that everyone needed to know was gay.</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-33911220648807684612012-03-01T10:04:00.004-05:002012-03-01T10:11:35.082-05:00Faith<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>This is an essay I wrote for my Philosophy of Religion class which explores my thoughts on religious faith. If you guys like it let me know and I'll post more of my school work for your viewing pleasure.</b><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNr6qMH7SG-c3ybp5indTMhAxH8oBreu27iUgoprMs5Cm-LTs4amGRbPaiXZ3zSpLgxyncDLqvgwqD9ebqlMbfSQEDWN4f7-7B-iYxfE9R4-5KgBM-Xg4m7vqJgjGVrU_MRODpITyGH5X/s1600/One-Way-TWU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNr6qMH7SG-c3ybp5indTMhAxH8oBreu27iUgoprMs5Cm-LTs4amGRbPaiXZ3zSpLgxyncDLqvgwqD9ebqlMbfSQEDWN4f7-7B-iYxfE9R4-5KgBM-Xg4m7vqJgjGVrU_MRODpITyGH5X/s320/One-Way-TWU.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The Delusion of Faith<b> </b></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"> In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Virtue of Faith</i>, Robert Adams argues that faith is a virtue even when that faith is based on no hard evidence. Although there is a chance that this faith may be correct and justified, the fact of that matter is that, without the use of practical evidence, the individual is merely guessing based on intuition. Although there is an argument for relying on one’s intuition at times, Adams argues that faith in God and faith in our loved ones (especially when they are innocent but accused guilty) is inherently virtuous. Indeed, past events and emotions are all apart of the evidence. Intuitions and gut feelings are a powerful tool humans use to recall and add significance to emotionally charges episodes of our lives, the ones that really impacted our livelihood. This view, that faith is automatically virtuous, is countered by Allen Woods who employs Clifford’s Principle in evaluating Adams’ claim. Overall, Woods demonstrates how blind faith can be just as “sinful,” if not more so than having less than absolute faith in God and those close to us. Without the use of practical evidence, the individual has no way of validating their beliefs, no matter how intuitive those beliefs may seem. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Early on, Adams admits that he is flawed in that he can’t justify all of his beliefs, but he is nonetheless confident in his moralities, despite the set of circumstances. For example, he states, “I cannot prove that it is unreasonable to regard infanticide as a morally permissible method of population control; but I still think it a sin to hold that belief” (Adams, 6) in an attempt to get the reader to acknowledge that some things, such as the killing of babies, is immoral in all aspects. While this is a gruesome act to visualize and intuitively sickening, there exists in the modern world, circumstances in which baby killing may be necessary for the survival of the humans already alive on this planet. China, for example, has made the decision of limiting the number of children per family in an attempt to reduce population and save the future generations from resource depletion and starvation. In this case, the restriction on children has led to the killing of babies in one form or another, yet this act could very well save the future of China, more so than if they did nothing. Though the act may seem extreme, only time will tell if this restriction on number of children is either sinful or prudential. Intuitively, it may always seem better to sacrifice the life of an adult over a newborn baby, with all its innocence, but what if the adult is the father of five children who all depend on him, including the new born? Then the choice seems intuitively flipped, and sacrificing the father would be senseless. All this shows is that situational factors must be taking into account, as circumstantial evidence, and no generalizations or beliefs should receive absolute faith. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Language is a specific area of cognition which is discussed by Adams in regards to the importance of having baseless faith in a system. During our childhood development, we are very impressionable. We take what we are told and belief it to be true. It is only around later childhood that we begin to make our own beliefs and correct the ones that were previously established in our minds. In terms of communication, a foundation for language is needed, and this changes very little throughout life. Yes, the meaning of some words will change or be modified, and you may learn other languages all together, but for the most part this foundation remains consistent and unchanged. Overtime, our brains have evolved to learn language in a very specific part of the brain specialized for this type of learning and information. Adams discusses how learning words of language as a baby requires faith in something without reasoning or knowing that it is true; </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Children acquire a large body of beliefs about the meanings of words long before they have either the intellectual capacity or adequate evidence to justify those beliefs.… Communication among human beings depends on a sort of natural empathy which enables us, with remarkable reliability, to guess each other's meaning from very fragmentary evidence,” (Adams, 7). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here, Adams makes a linguistic argument for faith, but this type of “faith” is specialized and only applies to learning fundamental skills such as language which are cultural and not rooted in cold reasoning. The meanings of words and elements of language must become standardized in the individuals of a society in order for them to effectively communicate and relate to one another. This is done at a very young age, in fact, starting before birth in prenatal, but as we age we lose this ability to learn new languages. Psychological studies have shown that it is nearly impossible for an individual to learn a language at all if not introduced to any language before the age of fourteen. So if the ability to learn language is rooted in our childhood, perhaps our ability to have faith in that which we have no evidence is also rooted in our childhood. Indeed, the minds of children are full of false fairytales: the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and of course Santa Claus. While these beliefs are not validated when we get older, the language behind them is; the words and syntax used to convey these fairytales is still as true and functional to us as adults. We simply understand that these concepts were made up for us to keep us in line, just as religion does for adults. We continue to use and adapt our language to be a more accurate working dictionary, while the fairy tale concepts are left behind with their lack of both evidence and plausibility.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Adams seems to view Woods as asking people to ignore all their emotions and just look at cold hard facts. But Woods counters this notion saying, “If viewing the evidence ‘in a cool and detached way’ means cutting yourself from this kind of evidence, then Clifford’s Principle clearly does not tell you to view the evidence in a ‘cool and detached’ way.” (Woods, 22) The idea is not to cut oneself off from emotions when evaluating a belief, but simply to value the facts over unsubstantiated beliefs. If you fully trust someone because they have always been there for you and never let you down, then these emotions are valid. But if the person has not been so dependable, or even malicious and manipulative, then such</div><div class="MsoNormal">positive emotions would not appear as accurate, and to have faith in that person over the facts would be irrational. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Adams further discusses the value of faith and trust in our personal relationships. “Sometimes we trust another person on very little evidence indeed; and that is also of great value for human life,” (Adams, 7) but this notion is more of a double edged sword. Indeed, trust in our friends who have proven themselves time and time again is healthy and beneficial, but faith in someone that we love uncontrollably and in spite of sufficient evidence against his or her good nature, that is where we humans get into trouble and are misled by our passions and irrational emotions. Especially in our personal relationships, it is important to take a step back and reassure ourselves that this person is actually good for us and not just playing with our heart for his/her own benefit in the short term. This concept of level-headedness suggests that, yes, our emotions are a necessary part of our psychology and daily lives, but that it must be kept in check by our ability to reason what is best for us and others. It is of great value that so many Americans have faith in the democratic system, but that does not make us blind to the corruption that exists within every level of the government. It is this awareness that makes the system stronger, more responsible, and self-reliant, as opposed to a totalitarian dictatorship, where people simply trust in the ruler, even though he most certainly does not have their best interests in mind. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Similarly, Adams says that people should believe in God regardless of evidence; “We have to trust His power and goodness in general, without having a blueprint of what He is going to do in detail. This is very disturbing because it entails a loss of our control of our own lives” (Adams, 12). This concept maybe worked for biblical societies where people were clueless about the natural forces at work, and therefore powerless in trying to control them. Nowadays, with television, internet, and social networking, people are enlightened, and as evident in the Arab Spring of 2011, more than capable of taking control of their situation and improving it. Yet Adams suggest that this loss of control is something we should all accept, because God exists and God is great, even though there is no hard evidence that either of those beliefs are true. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Allen Woods has a different view of the world which is embodied in his interpretation of Clifford’s Principle. Woods values a healthy skepticism over an absolute faith that is blind, and arguably more negligent than pure. Adams may view the faith that Woods imbues as less virtuous and more “questioning” than simply trusting. “The point of Clifford’s Principle, however, is simply we should form our beliefs in accordance with the evidence – neither believing what it does not support nor omitting to believe what it does support” (Woods, 16). There are some things that we will make beliefs about despite our best reasoning, for instance, beliefs about race and ethnicity and how they affect behavior. We all subconsciously form generalizations about character and personality based on how we identify people. But to hold these beliefs so strongly that we consistently act on them instead of giving that individual the benefit of the doubt, then that is racist or discriminatory, but above all immoral. One of the main concepts in the study of psychology is about variability within our ethnicity and between these groups. Interestingly, we differ more within a race or ethnicity than between such groupings; our fundamental differences are thus cultural, and not physiological or psychological. Why we find the need to pit one group against another is beyond me. So, because we are more similar than different across ethnic groups, it would be inaccurate to assume certain generalizations are always right. Yet we humans discriminate constantly because of ignorance and egocentrism, both pitfalls of religious fundamentalists. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpV9fFis8fe0gXDVzPKXNvjnlj1s10KDuh03GEVpzhK6e4zbMd7nJHH7TTcylk0Gf8qhivExlDe2mqlXuKy1p52Q7r2PPeZzygyIy_YI2jW-lMMyvDMR3G8-7MZ0kq_5hXBhjfh2ofX6Q1/s1600/2806412_f520.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> As if walking into his own trap, Adams proposes an idea that offers another argument against the morality of unrestrained faith in a higher power. Faith without evidence “seems to free us to be ourselves in a different way -perhaps because do not see ourselves as responsible for the outcome in the same way as if we were clinging to a more controlling role,” (Adams, 14). When people do not feel responsible, however, is when they commit the most heinous acts of cruelty. People in the military learn to take orders from the chain of command, regardless of what the order is. If a platoon is told to wipe out a village, they do so with little sense of fault or responsibility. But if the village happens to be their own, or they are told to kill their own family, well then the soldiers would be far less likely to feel so cold and detached about the mission. And if they did carry out the orders, and became aware of what they had done, they would probably feel far more responsible than they if they were not related to the deceased. This shows the significance of emotional information and how people are willing to do awful things when they are able to remain detached, abandon responsibility, and lay the blame on someone else.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpV9fFis8fe0gXDVzPKXNvjnlj1s10KDuh03GEVpzhK6e4zbMd7nJHH7TTcylk0Gf8qhivExlDe2mqlXuKy1p52Q7r2PPeZzygyIy_YI2jW-lMMyvDMR3G8-7MZ0kq_5hXBhjfh2ofX6Q1/s1600/2806412_f520.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpV9fFis8fe0gXDVzPKXNvjnlj1s10KDuh03GEVpzhK6e4zbMd7nJHH7TTcylk0Gf8qhivExlDe2mqlXuKy1p52Q7r2PPeZzygyIy_YI2jW-lMMyvDMR3G8-7MZ0kq_5hXBhjfh2ofX6Q1/s320/2806412_f520.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> To keep ourselves in line, we need to take responsibility for our actions and their consequences. Otherwise, “God made me do it,” or “God wanted this to happen,” would be at the root of every murderer’s legal defense. We are logical and adaptive creatures, and if we do not evaluate our actions and the results accordingly, then we will not progress or learn from our mistakes. If we take no action to correct our own flaws, then whose fault is that? In the words of William Shakespeare “Nothing will come of nothing.” Since we all want something out of this world, it would be unproductive and debilitating to put all of ones faith in God, and God alone.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Overall, Adams is in favor of a blind faith that seems hinder our scientific progress in modern society. Woods suggests through Clifford’s Principle, however, that a more pure and justified form of faith can be attained by logically evaluating the evidence presented to us by our senses and emotionally charged memories. People are flawed, even the ones we are closes to and love the most, so viewing them as perfect and trusting them full-heartedly in any situation is ignoring the fact that we are only human. Each person has a history, and though people can change, we cannot ignore their past, whether good or bad. The main point is that faith and trust must still be founded on something substantial, such as hard evidence, or deep emotions that convey something about hard evidence.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(Also, I liked this article by Todd Pettigrew, <a href="http://oncampus.macleans.ca/education/2010/04/02/do-religious-universities-serve-the-public-good/">Do religious universities serve the public good?</a>)</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com10Miami, FL, USA25.7889689 -80.22643929999998125.7156869 -80.315119299999978 25.8622509 -80.137759299999985tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-72440549217431947462012-01-22T22:28:00.000-05:002012-01-22T22:28:48.268-05:00Left-handedness and Homosexuality<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">Homosexuality is not a rare by any means. There are consistent rates of homosexuality and these differ between demographics, but in North America that rate is around 10-13% (<a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/16048884">source</a>). So gays are about as rare as people who are left-handed (10% of the general population) but for some reason the former is far more threatening than the later. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When I notice someone is left handed, I don’t judge him and tell him he is wrong and perverted; I find it rather interesting, like a fun-fact about that person. Studies have even found benefits to left-handedness; John Hopkins University found that of college educated people, left-handers earn 10-15% more than their right-handed counterparts, and the brains of left-handed people are structured differently allowing better use of both sides and a wider range of abilities (Chris Mangus, University College London). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvI1BjyaPQ33YCxqUh2zrFasmQXIQGZOMLs4KBXxslQ5lBjho3aKbMz942viZQ6dLgtgk_m3xovBw-cBBWu2CBivHF_hSfuRvjjP3J7dAHcWPSS9-7QZfyLS8xQMzZwl9tlJxTFvJv3-J/s1600/gaydar070625_3_560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvI1BjyaPQ33YCxqUh2zrFasmQXIQGZOMLs4KBXxslQ5lBjho3aKbMz942viZQ6dLgtgk_m3xovBw-cBBWu2CBivHF_hSfuRvjjP3J7dAHcWPSS9-7QZfyLS8xQMzZwl9tlJxTFvJv3-J/s400/gaydar070625_3_560.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So it would be silly to label left-handed people as demented, sinister and wrong for civilized society… yet that is exactly what the church did less then a century ago. In fact, nuns in catholic school had a different name for the left-hand: “sinistra,” the use of which would result in an abusive wack from the ruler. Years later, neuroscientist would discover that the right-side of the brain controls the left side of the body, making the churches belief, that one side is “right” and the other side “wrong,” completely moot. That same ignorance is alive and well in right-wing politics.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Indeed, it would be easier for scissor manufacturers if all people had the same preference for right-handedness, but maybe there are confounded benefits to having a small percent of the population (say 10%) who pursue the contrary, for example left-handeness and homosexuality. Maybe some people are meant to be different for a reason. I think Charles Darwin would agree that a healthy ecosystem depends heavily on its biodiversity. Perhaps, maybe the same can be said about certain in-born behaviors in human beings, or any species for that matter. The success of so many different life forms seems to suggest that diversity, and having variations in behaviors and tendencies, is intrinsically beneficial for the system as a whole. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Close-minded people, however, do not see the potential in diversity, and therefore have no tolerance for what is outside the norm. They feel afraid and fearful of what they do not know or understand. They see all Muslims as terrorists, all Germans as Nazis, and all gays as pedophiles. Have terrorists been Muslim, Nazis German, or pedophiles gay? Yes, but to link all of those people with the worst then you are doing a serious injustice to all those innocent people that are for the most part, good people.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Aight, I’m going off on a tangent, so I’ll rap it up… </div><div class="MsoNormal">Gays are a necessary piece of the pie, even if we don’t know why. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Some of us are meant to be gay, ‘cause baby we were born this way! </div><div class="MsoNormal">Long Live Lady Gaga!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Peace.</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-18074103067579435342012-01-18T13:34:00.000-05:002012-01-18T13:34:28.895-05:00Evangelicals Spew Hate, Ignorance, and Intolerance Into Uganda<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">I watch a good deal intellectual and thought-provoking television, and once in a while a show will come along that really piques my interest. Morgan Freeman’s Through The Wormhole (Discovery Channel) was one of these shows, and I can’t deny watching an entire season of Glee (Fox) in one sitting. Recently I got hooked to a journalistic-type show called Vanguard on Current TV. And one episode in particular struck a chord with my gay-self. The episode was <i>Missionaries of Hate</i> and details the recent anti-gay legislation which has emerged in Uganda as a result of far-right, evangelical influences. So I did a little research.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">According to <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/04/world/africa/04uganda.html">this</a> NY Times article, three American evangelical Christians are at the forefront of this hate campaign. Scott Lively is a missionary who has written several books against homosexuality, Caleb Lee Brundidge is a self-described former gay who now leads “healing seminars,” and Don Schmierer is a board member of Exodus International (fun fact: this organization was the inspiration for the spoof Rectodus Society episode starring yours truly at NextDoorBuddies.com). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Apparently, these evangelists saw how easy it was to sink their “righteous” claws into the hearts of the Ugandan people. They saw how easily they could coheres them into a state of homophobia in order to secure their power and profits – all of these speakers, by the way, have written short books with their mindless grins plastered all over, and have sold out lectures and sermons in Uganda at the cost of what an average Ugandan earns in a month. These evangelists feel no guilt because they are profiting tremendously from spewing hate and fear, and they have a golden ticket; it’s all in the name of “God.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m not suggesting that people from Uganda are incapable of thinking for themselves. It is only when an entire nation of people are stressed by famine, poverty, and sickness (namely AIDs), that they become so susceptible to such baseless fears, intolerance, and scapegoating. Just look at Germany post-WWI and in the midst of the Great Depression. We cannot continue to put Hitler and the Nazi’s in a separate box, claiming that the Holocaust occurred under different circumstances. The very same ingredients are all around us and always will be. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Luckily, the rest of the world is catching on and taking a stand against this anit-gay campaign in Uganda. Donor countries, including the United States, demanded that Uganda drop the proposed legislation which would give repeat offenders of the anti-gay law the death penalty. Uganda has since backed down - a little - replacing the death penalty provision with life in prison. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdOoEwIUSY_VTyk8uSVEnVXVXzugL9Qdydko2DeXWa3Qhis6TmdhUdw10qnC4Mm_2X0HT0whlm_3sNDf2grE5UdXIUcBLC7xGOsGgMjcSar4zROcTyikyOWz2xvkPzcwta_Ji18ICUzOy/s1600/Help-stop-Uganda-anti-gay-bill2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdOoEwIUSY_VTyk8uSVEnVXVXzugL9Qdydko2DeXWa3Qhis6TmdhUdw10qnC4Mm_2X0HT0whlm_3sNDf2grE5UdXIUcBLC7xGOsGgMjcSar4zROcTyikyOWz2xvkPzcwta_Ji18ICUzOy/s400/Help-stop-Uganda-anti-gay-bill2.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The main ingredient we have to worry about is ignorance. Unfortunately, people believe what you tell them, and people are not always told the truth. Humans, however, have recently evolved a sophisticated set of skills which allow us to draw worthy conclusions from our own experiences and deductive reasoning. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In fact, humanity has only done so well in the past few centuries because we have finally harnessed our logical abilities. Thousands of years ago, we didn’t have much control over our fate nor did we understanding how we may better our situation. We lived in the here and now and didn’t think much about the future at all. Coping with sudden misfortune or loss became a necessity, and religion offered a positive method of coping; it brought communities together, gave people hope, and brought closure to those who needed to know their loved ones were waiting for them on the other side. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But what has religion done for us lately? For the most part, it has separated humanity by waging wars between entire regions of the globe. We must recognize as civilized and intellectual creatures that religion’s time is waning in light of new concepts and technologies. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Overall, religion is not science. Only science gives us a framework to establish validity and improve upon our theories whenever possible. We cannot look to religious institutions to educate us on subjects which have been studied, documented, and objectively analyzed by academia and the scientific community. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(For further information, check out <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/frank-schaeffer/evangelicals-implicated-w_b_814683.html">this</a> article from the Huffington Post.)</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-76966440379394046442011-12-11T05:22:00.003-05:002011-12-11T06:03:29.365-05:00Relationships - Part III<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"> Sometime around 6<sup>th</sup> grade, I came to the realization that I must be gay. I was a smart kid and knew that, since these feelings for guys were so strong and lasting, something had to be up. It was hard coming out to myself because I knew it meant that my life would not be the same simple path I had envisioned for myself. Basically, ever since I could remember, I had seen myself marrying a nice girl and having a family and kids of my own -- I just needed to have my own kids someday. This mentality explains how I handled myself with girls at a young age (see Part I). Finally, I faced the facts and came to the conclusion that I could either be a miserable fuck, or simply accept my fate and embrace being gay. In case you haven’t noticed, I went with the latter. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Ultimately, I was more terrified of being a closeted fourty-year-old with kids and an empty marriage than an openly gay fourty-year-old with my man, my soul-mate and no kids… besides, there’s always advances being made in the baby making department; in vitro, surrogates, cloning. I didn’t know what was going to happen in terms of having kids but I knew that I had to focus on being happy, being me, and the rest would fall into place. If I was ever going to find Mr. Right, I would have to ditch these fears of being gay and start looking eventually.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Still, it was difficult. I didn’t want to screw myself over socially, and I was still coming to terms with the whole gay thing myself. So I kept my mouth shut. Obviously, this took a toll on me psychologically. I became a hypocrite, and I hated myself for that. I would hear people use “gay” or “fag” as a derogatory slurs or to bash some kid for being a wimp, a loser, or an otherwise undesireable person. It killed me to hear the word, my ears would burn, and it always hit a chord.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Fagget!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"> 'Yep that’s me,' I would think to myself. I even used the words in the same fashion myself from time to time, just to ward off any suspicions. I didn’t do it often though, because it stung my confidence and self-esteem each time. But still, the accusation came up publically one time when I was a freshman in high school. We were hanging out after school behind out town’s center shops, and the moment the kid said it I felt the adrenaline course through my veins, my heart beat through my chest as I felt the lump start to form in the back of my throat. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Na man, I’m not gay,” was all I could say. It hurt then and it still hurts now, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Society had convinced me that being gay was wrong and more frowned upon than dishonesty, so I lied and claimed to be straight for as long as I could. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> The summer before my senior year of high school, I came out to my friends and classmates. I planned to come out at that time, when I was at the top of the high school social hierarchy, just to try to change the perceptions of my younger peers and show all the other homos and normies that it's okay to be gay. After all, I was the student class president, captain of the wrestling team, and in the top ten percent of my grade academically, so if this guy’s gay maybe it’s not so bad to be a homo.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvajx3lma7A-WqB3bv5jyWP0nAqQ4-WXzdWGgryk-cXUxSV24daVVeCLWmj-y1ELeKbUQx9LWLOgV6-VSMyZWpnxvojkDNFnQ5u1VKfck1fb8KTgS5Jr9hsUKtFZSmT8Rua1_mq_dlV9k/s1600/Wrestling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvajx3lma7A-WqB3bv5jyWP0nAqQ4-WXzdWGgryk-cXUxSV24daVVeCLWmj-y1ELeKbUQx9LWLOgV6-VSMyZWpnxvojkDNFnQ5u1VKfck1fb8KTgS5Jr9hsUKtFZSmT8Rua1_mq_dlV9k/s400/Wrestling.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"> It was a small town and I have yet to see any measurable impact on the younger generation, but I like to think that I changed some perceptions. I guess it’s also part of the reason I brought my act to the internet as a porn star; to change the minds of those closeted gays out there who still think homosexuality is only synonymous with flamboyant fairies who wear make-up and dance around in drag. There are a lot of butch, socially acceptable guys out there who are more attracted to other masculine guys than girls, and I’m just one of them. If you are one of those fairies please don’t be offended by this, because I love you girls and I know how sensitive you can be.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Anyways, I know a lot of you gays have been waiting for this, so here’s how I lost my v-card… Before I get into this, I am warning the reader that there is going to be some graphic content in the form of gay butt-sex, so if you are not interested in reading such things, or know me personally, consider this your only warning. To any of my friends that come across this blog, if you do read on and find yourself wishing you hadn’t, then you only have yourself to blame. The following is a true story:</div><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">It was around Christmas time my sophomore year of high school, which would have made me 16. I was at a friend’s Christmas party and some of his extended family was still around drinking<a href="http://www.jagermeister.com/"><span style="color: black;"></span></a></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span><style>
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</style> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">Jägermeister</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"> </span> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">(I grew up in a town of Irish Catholics and Italian mobster), but the kids from my grade and above were now outnumbering the family members. After a few hours of drinking, kids either left or passed out in the wreck room. </span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> I had been drinking, but not as much as Billy. We were in the wreck room watching TV when I suggested we use the out door hot tub. Billy was down. We hopped in and lost the boxers since no one else was around or awake, plus we had been drinking so we were both in an uninhibited state of mind. </span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6bFAe1ABoxmZ7IvjeaaDkH5PSaEhLLCz8jjUKThjy6G9c7ufKlfHrtTIOKTyJCImh2wiCsnuaknOK_70nPnNR9m8lx3nHSfG7eqELzd_ji8SvXvlMDb2Lfd2U2L5KGuD0L3feG29jARP/s1600/images-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6bFAe1ABoxmZ7IvjeaaDkH5PSaEhLLCz8jjUKThjy6G9c7ufKlfHrtTIOKTyJCImh2wiCsnuaknOK_70nPnNR9m8lx3nHSfG7eqELzd_ji8SvXvlMDb2Lfd2U2L5KGuD0L3feG29jARP/s1600/images-6.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> As we were sitting there it got slightly akward, but only in the sense that we were both in a hot tub, naked, and were thinking about making a move, but neither of us wanted to make that move and potentially look like an idiot. Then Billy moved over to the controls, so I followed him, kind of rubbing up against him while pretending to look at the controls. He didn’t seem to mind, so I rubbed his hairy leg and he still didn’t react, so I slid my hand around his thigh and went for the goods.</span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> He immediately reciprocated, fondling my junk in return. We played with each other’s cock and balls for a minute before I went underwater and began blowing Billy. I guess he appreciated that, because then he went down on me and began sucking my cock. It was all really hot. I wrapped my legs around his body and then Billy did something that I did not expect. He placed his tip against my hole and pop! There went my virginity. He gave it a few good thrusts and it felt awesome. Sure I had played with my hole before, maybe got a finger half way up there in the shower, but this was completely different. Billy was pumping me like an animal, and I was fucking loving it. </span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> When I tried to get my turn, Billy came to, and realizing something was about to go up his butt for the first time, he backed off and we just left it at that. We hopped out of the hot tub, dried off, put our clothes back on, and went to bed.</span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> The next day, after I got home, I tried to contact Billy to talk about the incident, but he didn’t respond and seemed distant. When I did finally get a chance to talk to him, he acted like he didn’t remember. But I thought this was bullshit.</span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> “You put your dick up my ass, Billy,” I reminded him. He reacted with a look of denial rather than shock. While he still claimed to not remember the incident, he did relate how he wondered why us guys couldn’t be more intimate with each other, like lying next to each other while watching TV with our own friends. This open-mindedness to the idea of fraternal intimacy made me sure that deep down in Billy, there was a homosexual yearning that was ultimately suppressed by his heterosexuality and what was socially acceptable. </span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> I asked Billy if he would be down to mess around again, and he said yes, so we went up to the loft in my house and began playing with each others cocks and blowing one another. After that, I think the sobering idea of being gay freaked him out to much because we didn’t hook up again for a couple years. And when we did, it was forced, and awkward, and nothing really happened. </span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> I don’t think Billy wanted to admit that he might have been bisexual, or worse gay, but he was just the first of many guys I’ve come across that have in them the potential to be gay. What holds them back is fear, inhibitions, and the overriding idea that society will don’t accept that kind of behavior. </span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;"> All one has to do, however, is look at the research of Alfred Kinsey from the 1950’s to see that most guys are essential bisexual, and under the right conditions, will freely participate in acts of homosexuality. In my mind, these conditions are as follows:</span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in 0.1pt 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">1)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">One-on-one </span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in 0.1pt 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">2)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">With a close friend</span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in 0.1pt 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">3)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">Under the influence of alcohol</span></h3><h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">WARNING: I’m not saying this will work every time, but if it’s going to happen, it’ll probably be under these circumstances. </span></h3></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-78298776332386102062011-10-08T18:02:00.004-04:002011-12-24T19:23:02.660-05:00Relationships - Part II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"> Now on to 3<sup>rd</sup> grade… Here is when I made those friendships that lasted through middle school and high school, and I still talk to some when I go home to this day. I started participating more in physical activities during recess, like kick ball and tag. And I started going to sleep-away camp in NH over the summer for two weeks at a time. Those experiences helped develop my social skills, especially when it came to meeting new people and trying new things. I also solidified my concept of the golden rule; treating others the way you want to be treated. Even today, I sometimes over-analyze situations in terms of how my actions may have made someone feel (with my straight guy friends, I usually find this is completely unnecessary). I became very sensitive to my own emotions and those of others at this time. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> It was 5<sup>th</sup> grade, when I moved on to middle school, that I began my transition into adulthood. I was always old for my grade and an early bloomer (I had the first armpit hair out of most of my friends, even though it was blonde). I started going to the mall on the weekends to see movies and just hang out, so naturally, I started spending more time with the kids in my grade who had as much parental freedom as I did. From now one, I will be changing the names of people out of respect for their privacy.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Two friends I established in this period were of particular importance: Billy and Scott. Billy lived the street over from me, he also had older siblings, a good deal of freedom, and was a light-hearted kid who was also old for our grade. Every year starting from 5<sup>th</sup> grade, Billy’s mom would let him have friends over for new years. It was that first year that I got a hold of enough champagne to get drunk. At the time, none of my friends believed me but I knew from my silliness and loss of balance that something was different. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Scott also had older siblings, two brothers Mitch and Ben that were in the 6<sup>th</sup> and 7<sup>th</sup> grade at the time, and a father that was trying to do the best he could after a very difficult time when his wife abducted the children and ran away for a couple years, going in and out of half-way houses while battling her drug addictions. The overall affect on the kids was that Scott and Mitch never learned any boundaries or respect for authority. Their father, Mitch Sr., would give them a long leash in hopes that his kids would someday return to him in appreciation, but that never came to fruition. Only about a year after I befriended Scott and his who family, Mitch Sr. was brutally murdered by another dad in a hockey rink fight over a stupid pick-up game. The event was a tragedy for our small town and everyone who knew the family. It also received national attention (see news photo below) and the boys would eventually go on Oprah to talk about the incident and losing their father to the rage of another parent. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Anyways, I started spending a lot more time with the whole family after that, but I especially gravitated towards Mitch Jr. He was the cockiest of his brother, the most mischievous, and the cruelest; he would make fun of kids in horrible ways, but would receive the laughter and respect of everyone else in the room at the same time. I became the center of his derision often because I was younger and didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to making fun of people, I was far to nice of a kid. He was also charismatic. He could easily capture the attention of every girl in the room. The guys would notice this and follow suite. All the girls wanted to be with him, and all the guys wanted to be him. And getting the chance to hang out with him and his friends was worth the teasing. By the end of 5<sup>th</sup> grade, I began to hang out with Mitch and his friends more than the friends in my own grade and that upset some of them, particularly Billy and Scott. But I didn’t care. I was so stoked to be hanging out with the “cool” kids, I thought my old friends were just jealous.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> I still remember the first day Mitch put his hands down my pants. I had invited him and another friend (more his than mine), Brad, up to the beach house my family rented in Gloucester, MA. We had been on the beach and Mitch started teasing me pretty hard, being a real dick, and wrestling me into the sand until I would submit. Brad eventually spoke up on my behalf, “Dude, he invites us up to his beach house and this is how you repay him?” Mitch finally let up and we headed back to the house like nothing happened, although I was still a little hurt. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Now, Mitch and Brad were more developed than most kids their age, and they were quite proud of it, often whipping out their dicks for girls and to make other guys feel insecure. So when we all hoped in the shower to wash off the sand, Mitch and Brad immediately whipped theirs out and started comparing. Then they turned to me and told me to whip mine out. I was naturally intimidated, but I finally mustered up the courage to whip it out, immediately coveing my eyes to avoid any eye contact. All I heard was a roar of laughter as they bother said, “That’s it!?”<br />
“Well it’s not hard!” I responded. Now, I was only 11 at the time; I had just started to get my dark pubs and erections were still uncommon for me. Also, this was about six months before the first time I ejaculated. So they relished in my embarrassment. We finished showering, got into some fresh close, and headed upstairs to watch TV. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> It was as we were watching TV that night that Mitch made his move. All of a sudden, Mitch started sliding his hand up my thigh towards my crotch. I quivered from the tickle, looked at him, and asked, “What are you doing?”<br />
His response, “Don’t you want to be ready when a girl does it?” Seemed practical enough.<br />
I looked at Brad, he nodded nonchalantly and said, “It’s fine.”<br />
So I was down, and Mitch went up… further. He fondled me a little and that was that. But later that night, Mitch and I slept in the same bed, and I played with him, jerking him off and just playing with his junk. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> That summer I began jerking Mitch off and blowing him regularly. I wasn’t as turned on as I was intrigued by his maturity and cock size. I was thoroughly honored to get to play with this kid. He was the most popular cocky guy in 6<sup>th</sup> grade, and in private, I got to play with his dick and blow him. I was fascinated by the thick cloudy cum that would gush up out of his wide pee hole, still never seeing such a sight from my own cock. It was exciting and interesting, and I was always beyond curious about such “adult” matters. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Playing with Mitch was rather one sided (he never did blow me), but I was intellectually stimulated, socially secure, and sensually satisfied when fooling around with him, even though my sexual attractions hadn’t quite set in yet. We never kissed either -- that would have been too gay, and what we were doing was just feel-good experimentation, right? When I did start jerking off, it was to thoughts of fucking girls, but soon after I began replacing those girls with my close friends, particularly the ones who were first to hit puberty, grow hair, and develop muscles -- go figure.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Mitch was always a dick to me in public, usually making fun of me for being Jewish and what not, but as long as I got to play with his junk at night, I was cool with it. Eventually, I did get sick of his ridicule, and after about six month of only hanging with Mitch and his friends, I would slink back to my own grade and my old friends, Scott and Billy, but they were still a little bitter about me deserting them.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Stay tuned to find out which one I lost my virginity to in high school!</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-86413220067420317852011-10-01T13:20:00.003-04:002011-10-06T13:30:24.331-04:00Realtionships - Part I<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"> The other day somebody asked if I could give my opinion on relationships. My motto: ask and you shall receive. So I guess it’s best to start at the very beginning.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> I have always been an exhibitionist, even before I can remember. My parents sometimes joke about my persistence in removing all of my clothes and diaper as a young toddler; they started duct-taping my diaper on, but even then I figured out how to peel the duct tape off and do away with the clothing norm of modern civilization. “Viva la Freedom,” I must have thought. One time, I sufficiently embarrassed my sister at her 13<sup>th</sup> birthday party when I came running out naked, asking for cake like nothing at all was out of the ordinary. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Some of my earliest memories consist of me and my preschool friends getting naked in my room just to see what’s going on down there, a playful comparison of parts. That was the first time I saw some other guys and girls junk that was not my mothers or fathers. We knew that we couldn’t tell our parents about it, but it was educational and informative nonetheless. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> In preschool and kindergarten, I had already absorbed enough to know that girls and boys kiss, so I tried it a few times with some girls my age, and I enjoyed it, but it never did anything for me… Not because I’m gay, but because I was 7 and 8 years old, duh. Anyways, I’ve always been sensually and romantically curious through out my latent sexuality. And this is why I think nobody really knows if they're gay until they hit puberty. I was pretty sure I liked kissing girls until I started jerking off to my guy friends in 6<sup>th</sup> grade, but now I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to 2<sup>nd</sup> grade. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> One valentine, I went all out on three girls, I just liked playing with them and I felt that I spent about the same time with each of them so they all deserved something special. I bought each of the girls a cheap gold locket and greeting cards from CVS. By the way, my mom was always supportive and a great resource in carrying out any of my nice gestures. I’ve have a lot of love to give and I thank my mom for helping to foster that virtue.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG6QQ3B5QqWufCiwusNCSUvAFd3tL9YZMyJcDMcaiCFvQv4VDEgqt9V63du0ll7qK6ISpcMrop197yBJ3n-g0UAzCnb8eWgRHwXjz-7rDqziiIqY8krJE8s0fjUdl2jWc-SGStY7Tzj-L1/s1600/scan210copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG6QQ3B5QqWufCiwusNCSUvAFd3tL9YZMyJcDMcaiCFvQv4VDEgqt9V63du0ll7qK6ISpcMrop197yBJ3n-g0UAzCnb8eWgRHwXjz-7rDqziiIqY8krJE8s0fjUdl2jWc-SGStY7Tzj-L1/s1600/scan210copy.jpg" /></a></div> I also had a small stuffed Lisa Frank dog (just a little gay, right?), that I named Mikey after, what I think was, my first gay crush in latent sexuality. Mikey was a good friend of mine that lived close by. We took the same bus to elementary school and we would often play together after school. Mikey would go on to be an all-American football jock who went to a private high school and yes, date girls. Still Mikey was one of the nicest, fairest, smartest, good-looking kids I knew at the time, and I respected him deeply as one of my first best friends. So I guess I channeled my platonic love for Mikey into the yellow stuffed dog I named after him. That dog was attached to my hip; I took him everywhere, made up stories and adventures for him, even coddled him like my own baby feeding him and empty bottle. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> One time I told my mom “I think I’m gunna feed Mikey his bottle on the bus.” My mother responded, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, the boys might tease you.” To which I haughtily replied, “Well, then they aren’t going to make good fathers,” turning away as I held the bottle against the stuffed animal’s lips. My mother knew from that moment on that I was going to do just fine in this life. Already, I was confident about who I was and who I wanted to be.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(to be continued…)</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-16218019029288896022011-09-09T21:37:00.002-04:002011-09-09T21:39:00.973-04:00The Older Brother Effect<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"> I’m the youngest in my family, so I always tried to pin a lot of stuff on my older brother growing up, but never did I think I could blame him for me being gay. That is, until I came across this finding (<a href="http://www.utexas.edu/courses/bio301d/Topics/Gay/Text.html">LINK</a>) a while back; it examined several variables, including finger length, vocal pitch, and childhood gender conformity, among other things, to see which were most strongly correlated to being gay. Interestingly enough, the one with the highest correlation was fraternal birth order, however this only applies to men.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotfyNMwt1UYxeAThv_eeHQNpzi1BGWe-WatNSEWY8IRF8WzLFahP6slqo1zrgdaYd3ihlqKMo5Oo6HkSwbl7QwXNVU4XYLqLnLzZxy29UgdZLw1hE2Y6ljpiGgMFG4VFdXUAnho_AWsDH/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotfyNMwt1UYxeAThv_eeHQNpzi1BGWe-WatNSEWY8IRF8WzLFahP6slqo1zrgdaYd3ihlqKMo5Oo6HkSwbl7QwXNVU4XYLqLnLzZxy29UgdZLw1hE2Y6ljpiGgMFG4VFdXUAnho_AWsDH/s1600/images.jpg" /></a> This phenomenon, also referred to as the “older brother effect,” is the strongest known predictor of sexual orientation in males. According to several studies that have been conducted around the globe (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fraternal_birth_order_and_male_sexual_orientation">LINK</a>), each older brother increases a man’s odd of being homosexual by 28-48%. So if the average rate of homosexuality is 5%, then on average, one in twenty guys are gay. But for those who have one older brother, their odds are closer to 7%. There is a limit, however, because after three or four older brothers the rate levels off around 10-12%. Still, I find it fascinating that with even one older brother, the differences are observable and statistically significant. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> So where does this increase in the probability of being gay come from? When the study was repeated with step-brothers, there was no correlation, so the cause seems to be biological and occurring in the shared womb. Researchers have pointed to the prenatal environment in which the fetuses form. With each boy that the mother has, her body produces a certain amount of antibodies to combat the unknown male proteins or perhaps something found in the Y chromosome, which females lack. So with each older brother, these antibodies increase exponentially. These antibodies may interfere with the normal hormonal washes that occur in the womb and are responsible for the sexual orientation, behavior, mannerism, and attractions of that person later on in life. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnW0UoKujydpAZDL0d3f04TrmkMNl0K6YTOGJvPWoL-E3KEHf0_6mDfaTcA3L10oWwk9MEUmoD1VcNq3KFLDbGYe81zcmpzeJYqIvjasxdnJacw5Auxzm1HJXxOvxjxxguGZIwFe7_h4Gp/s1600/Meeting+%25288%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnW0UoKujydpAZDL0d3f04TrmkMNl0K6YTOGJvPWoL-E3KEHf0_6mDfaTcA3L10oWwk9MEUmoD1VcNq3KFLDbGYe81zcmpzeJYqIvjasxdnJacw5Auxzm1HJXxOvxjxxguGZIwFe7_h4Gp/s320/Meeting+%25288%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Now, I don’t think the mother’s body is trying to kill the child, but maybe this is just nature’s way of ensuring that not too many heterosexual males exist in the same family. Too many straight brothers could lead to excessive competition or aggression, especially when it comes to dating and mating. Maybe, after the first male, the need to reproduce is not as demanding, so the probability becomes slightly tweaked, going from 5% to 10% over the course of several male offspring.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Overall, there is always a rate of homosexuality. The fact that it increases with the number of older brothers just makes whole subject more interesting and seemingly intentional in my mind. So thanks big bro for increasing my odds, I couldn’t be happier with the results, and you can rest assured that I won’t be stealing your girlfriend anytime soon.</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-59332819031455062562011-09-08T17:32:00.001-04:002011-09-08T17:34:20.229-04:00What's Up Fellas!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> Apparently my blog's view-rate grew by ten fold last night... not sure how that happened, but I guess the internet has a way of connecting people to the interesting things they want to read about. I'd just like to say welcome to all the newcomers! Please, ask questions and comment on my ideas, I want this to be a dialogue, not a monologue. Also, subscribe to receive my posts by email and you'll always have something fascinatingly gay to read about every week. Last but not least, I picked out some books, movies, and apparel that I highly recommend, they are all located in the Amazon sponsored "My Favorites" at the top right. I'll be posting about how older brothers result in gay younger brothers tomorrow. Until then, here's a pic of yours truly!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizHBItk5ZiSzwqOrSDur4svkcNd9-k3Mus4yq83pxxCrDIErHF58awR9aEH12Hn9Zu8SHRY_VroOTzJHcZfh8zkM-AkRXBtyJa6IUI47xIm5xavkEJoDykBzK61S6Iw41-0scjzsxZdKZC/s1600/-6.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizHBItk5ZiSzwqOrSDur4svkcNd9-k3Mus4yq83pxxCrDIErHF58awR9aEH12Hn9Zu8SHRY_VroOTzJHcZfh8zkM-AkRXBtyJa6IUI47xIm5xavkEJoDykBzK61S6Iw41-0scjzsxZdKZC/s640/-6.jpg" width="424" /> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"> Photo Courtesy of <a href="http://flyfotophotography.blogspot.com/?zx=a1759a85dfd4549e">FLYFOTO</a>: Images to Inspire. (c) 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizHBItk5ZiSzwqOrSDur4svkcNd9-k3Mus4yq83pxxCrDIErHF58awR9aEH12Hn9Zu8SHRY_VroOTzJHcZfh8zkM-AkRXBtyJa6IUI47xIm5xavkEJoDykBzK61S6Iw41-0scjzsxZdKZC/s1600/-6.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a></div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-69312101953524821642011-08-31T12:28:00.002-04:002011-08-31T12:30:17.000-04:00My Theory Of Gay<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> Perhaps nature intended for a certain percentage of the population to be non-heterosexual. Yes, of course nature and life itself hinges on reproduction, but what about survival? Even reproduction has its limits. Eventually, having so many kids can take its toll on mom and the health of the family as a whole. Also, when populations are strained to their limits, pandemics become far more likely and damaging. And last but not least, non-heterosexual males may intrinsically deter war and violent proclivities by virtue of their same-sex attractions. Although most of these theories are being researched, the following discussion is purely based off my own experiences, understandings, and logical conclusions. As a young gay man who has struggled with my sexuality in the past, I find great comfort in the idea that gays are, and always have been, an instrumental to the survival of our species.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KGndJ5TbgIACjsOCUNaOlIg8ujKZonue4f5mlC2VvalRR7wdmz6IOogRMUx9NnEMpkn5un41aY2XiGUlpceT2ozHQvkPX1Sdk0rEf1TAf-kmty1MmRZiysjRRPnRKJVdrtqX3ICys9IB/s1600/2177326353_f6266d8826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KGndJ5TbgIACjsOCUNaOlIg8ujKZonue4f5mlC2VvalRR7wdmz6IOogRMUx9NnEMpkn5un41aY2XiGUlpceT2ozHQvkPX1Sdk0rEf1TAf-kmty1MmRZiysjRRPnRKJVdrtqX3ICys9IB/s200/2177326353_f6266d8826.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Have you ever heard of the “Gay Uncle” theory? It’s been studied alongside kin theory, which attempts to explain altruistic tendencies by asserting that though that individual is not benefited, those close to him/her have a greater chance of surviving and passing on the genes which are found in, or favored by, the self-sacrificing individual. So you have brothers and sisters with whom you share your genetic information. Though some may fight with their siblings on a continuous basis, they never want to see them hurt or worse, pass away. We are biologically inclined to love our family and strive for the survival of it’s offsprings. We especially care for our own children, but then our nieces and nephews before any others. Nature has apparently hard-wired us to favor those who are closest to us genetically, and we want to see the maximum number of these people, not only survive, but prosper and live fulfilling and productive lives.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4Hh9SG7Cc8x4JnW9JPTExi22zfVu1U3djUi4d_D7pXeqXBiG7u2_2d0CU7OrdHxXHIjUem1FLi3Z2cPrBB7x2wYzOJD6-JC6_7QEjXIhwOFI_NILR1SuZ7jBl-tUxzDDxMHezIihbWTH/s1600/Lange-MigrantMother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4Hh9SG7Cc8x4JnW9JPTExi22zfVu1U3djUi4d_D7pXeqXBiG7u2_2d0CU7OrdHxXHIjUem1FLi3Z2cPrBB7x2wYzOJD6-JC6_7QEjXIhwOFI_NILR1SuZ7jBl-tUxzDDxMHezIihbWTH/s200/Lange-MigrantMother.jpg" width="153" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Now, we look at the efficiency of a family in terms of how many children it consists of. Obviously there is a tipping point. Though some women in history have been able to churn out a baby every year for their entire life, this is not feasible for the entire population, especially in this day and age. Financial issues present themselves, parents split, or mom dies during childbirth. Either way, more kids equals more stress for the mother and the family. The most recent research suggests that great psychological stress for the mother during pregnancy leads to prenatal and hormonal stress for the baby. These hormonal washes are directly responsible the development of sexual behavior and mannerisms in the growing baby’s brain. The result, gay babies; babies that will grow up and not reproduce, putting more stress on the original family, but instead play with his siblings children and help foster in them healthy emotional, social, and intellectual growth. Also, if dad turns out to be a dead beat or happens to pass away, well now you have an extra man in the family to help with the kids! When you dig a little deeper into the idea of diminishing returns and the tipping point of family sizes, it seems to make sense to add some male individuals who care more about culture and communicating emotions rather than impregnating every woman in sight. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> I don’t mean to be stereotypical, because it’s not always true, but the average gay guy is often cleaner, better groomed, and more anal (no pun intended) than their average heterosexual counterparts. Like typical heterosexual women, homosexual males are more likely to be manic and OCD about personal hygiene and living quarters. It is no surprise to me that nature would increase these traits, i.e. cleanliness via homosexuality, at a time when the mother is stressed or overwhelmed by the number of children she already has. Nature seems to also be slowing down the population growth so that the people can adjust to the germs or viruses now being spread more rapidly. These assertions are of course speculatory, but still, they don’t seem completely baseless.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYpVZjFzCxEtiz24boxw4asO7iB9zVumQbI7rY7d1Zojrdc0bL_q7-mNcsymGwIHH-blSqWKFScP-d01sZjvb0_8XVZesAVx2VPcTFxnHXI_H_81lKS9Mj-Bpu-ZH2uRy1_r6hI_TFu1Y/s1600/postwar_germany.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYpVZjFzCxEtiz24boxw4asO7iB9zVumQbI7rY7d1Zojrdc0bL_q7-mNcsymGwIHH-blSqWKFScP-d01sZjvb0_8XVZesAVx2VPcTFxnHXI_H_81lKS9Mj-Bpu-ZH2uRy1_r6hI_TFu1Y/s320/postwar_germany.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"> My final argument for homosexuality being a part of natures design is my all-time favorite. It ties into human history, biology, and psychology. In 1983 a study (<a href="http://healthpsych.psy.vanderbilt.edu/2008/PrenatalStress.htm">link</a>) was conducted by G. Dorner investigating the effect of psychological stress during pregnancy on the sexuality of the developing baby. Dorner surveyed women from Germany who had been pregnant during the WWII and asked about the sexuality of the child that was born from that pregnancy. His study revealed higher rates of homosexuality from pregnancies during those years, the highest of which were during the last two years of the war. Though this study was retroactive and based on the surveyed mother’s memory, Dorner’s following studies on rat pregnancies influenced by higher or lower than normal levels of hormones (primarily testosterone) supported his conclusion that psychological stress in the mother leads to prenatal and hormonal stress for the fetus which results in atypical sexual behavior and tendencies. The stress in this situation was the war, the destruction, the loss of life and especially loved ones. I’d say that could be pretty stressful for a pregnant woman. So here, nature has provided a way to reduce the probability of future aggressive outbreaks, by insuring that the men will be too busy fucking instead of fighting<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"> :)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bcVoxfWedbQw1kuM9vQIrfNjeyfO4VpR7cN6astJyTjKM_icaeT6oIqsQVED37Gw_Dobqfb-BANUpHX3IyLfHQYxwQzng_vCCXAjEB0x9adOUMvg0F0a0HMfgXtlJ9T_kqwnaaSZPUXn/s1600/IMG_1927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a> Maybe, life has built into its reproduction process a sort of circuit-breaker, a way to prevent the system from going out of control too quickly and destroying itself. Maybe that component is the rate of homosexuality. Seems likely to me, but only more research and time will prove me right. Until then, I’ll hold tight to the believe that gays are here for a reason, to slow population explosions, take care of those close to us (both genetically and socially), and continue to make love and not war with our fellow man. Here’s to gays, and the healthy productive lives that we bring to family, friends, and society!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bcVoxfWedbQw1kuM9vQIrfNjeyfO4VpR7cN6astJyTjKM_icaeT6oIqsQVED37Gw_Dobqfb-BANUpHX3IyLfHQYxwQzng_vCCXAjEB0x9adOUMvg0F0a0HMfgXtlJ9T_kqwnaaSZPUXn/s1600/IMG_1927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bcVoxfWedbQw1kuM9vQIrfNjeyfO4VpR7cN6astJyTjKM_icaeT6oIqsQVED37Gw_Dobqfb-BANUpHX3IyLfHQYxwQzng_vCCXAjEB0x9adOUMvg0F0a0HMfgXtlJ9T_kqwnaaSZPUXn/s400/IMG_1927.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-24668310037194085632011-08-26T00:35:00.000-04:002011-08-26T00:35:30.127-04:00Excuses, Excuses...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My apologies for the recent hiatus; in the past week I’ve driven from Boston to Miami with a brief stint in Asheville, NC, moved into my new room, and had the first classes of my senior year at UM. As you can imagine, I haven’t had much free time… story of my life. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0kbOSgkyNuMEuxiYoCvFfQn6Lqwc7HAOoGszOcQ91F8tTs-t8b4TInUc3QKEU1yrJLd_bzTvOOcj1qVljupZpqtGHrrQcO52hJ85uZxb3A5lAklQrhawHwnLffkK4_1zCAGfPEI-gcz1A/s1600/IMG_2295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0kbOSgkyNuMEuxiYoCvFfQn6Lqwc7HAOoGszOcQ91F8tTs-t8b4TInUc3QKEU1yrJLd_bzTvOOcj1qVljupZpqtGHrrQcO52hJ85uZxb3A5lAklQrhawHwnLffkK4_1zCAGfPEI-gcz1A/s320/IMG_2295.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m majoring in civil engineering, but residential renovations are what I’m really interested in, that and sustainable building techniques. I’ve been playing the guitar for the past two years and I’m looking forward to getting inspired by my Evolution of Jazz class this semester. I’ve taken three semester of glass blowing and that was, by far, the best class I could have elected to take, even though it got me no closer to my degree. Glassblowing was both fascinating and challenging… kind of like cheerleading, which I also did for two and a half years at UM. Now, most of my time is occupied by Molly, my seven month old jack-a-poo that I’ve had since she was a month old. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll continue to introduce more tidbits but I figured this would give me time to work next post. Teaser – it’s my theory of why nature purposefully increases the rate of homosexuality. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Anyway, stay tuned. And if you have any comments or questions about my activities and personal life, feel free to ask, but let’s keep it mature and intellectual. Not saying I’m going to answer them all either, but I like to think of myself as an open book. </div><!--EndFragment--> </div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-49921738994175537872011-08-13T17:58:00.000-04:002011-08-13T17:58:33.892-04:00Biological Basis for Homosexual Attractions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OMBPsAY9jgj3jHmukzZwJCiKOYSZQBijuh6ypAQ0ndgiLbrpbU5HpvresfssydEpcO0qIHvAvoCOBua8Z1DOGq-wh4_a60grJuRTHM1GnenQDLzo28d1qiXLBS2MeqvXqTwHOmDQAHDH/s1600/19239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OMBPsAY9jgj3jHmukzZwJCiKOYSZQBijuh6ypAQ0ndgiLbrpbU5HpvresfssydEpcO0qIHvAvoCOBua8Z1DOGq-wh4_a60grJuRTHM1GnenQDLzo28d1qiXLBS2MeqvXqTwHOmDQAHDH/s320/19239.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Want proof that being gay is not a choice? Look no further you’re your hypothalamus, more specifically, the cell group in the medial preoptic area named INAH3. According to research published by Simon LeVay back in 1995, this cell group is three times bigger in heterosexual men than in homosexual men and heterosexual women. LeVay examined autopsy specimens from 19 homosexual men, all of whom died of AIDS, and 16 heterosexual men, six of whom had also died of AIDS. LeVay concluded that, at the very least, there are visible and measureable differences between the brain structures of heterosexuals and homosexuals. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What causes the enlargemen of the INAH3? Androgens, the steroidal hormones found in the testicles of males, testosterone being the primary and best-known. These hormones surge and change our bodies at three critical points in our development: in the womb, after birth, and again during the onset of puberty. These hormonal washes are what change our brain structures and determine whether we are male or female, whether we are masculine or feminine, and whether we like boys or girls or both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LeVay demonstrated the effect of these hormones by exposing, or not exposing, the brains of newly born rats (males and females) to androgens and then observing their behavior as adults (i.e., mounting, lordosis, etc.). The more we study our body’s development, brain chemistry, and neurological structures with regard to sexual behaviors, the more we are discovering how our sexual orientation is shaped early on, and for the most part, without regard to environmental influences. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The implications of these findings deserves more modern research. For one, there were no sexual histories done for the specimens so verifying the his/her sexual behavior was not possible. Alfred Kinsey’s studies on human sexual behavior back in the 1950’s would not have been so insightful if it was not for the thousands and thousands of histories him and his researchers took themselves. This is, in my opinion, the best way to accurately classify each person by his/her sexual orientation. LeVay’s research also only looked at one very specific group of cells in the hypothalamus. Expanding research to the other parts of the hypothalamus will undoubtedly yield some interesting findings. Some people note that the AIDS may have acted as a confounding variable, but my gut tells me that this region of the brain was the same before and after contracting AIDS. Still, this aspect deserves more accurate research and to bring these truths to light; that we are, indeed, born this way.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(For the primary source used, google “Is Homosexuality Biologically Influenced” and click on the top most pdf… enjoy)</div><!--EndFragment--> </div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-31147146322072115672011-08-09T20:00:00.001-04:002011-08-09T20:01:33.263-04:00Gay Marriage: Since When Is Love Restrictive?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> The truth is, it’s not “marriage” that gays are after; it’s equality. The term itself could mean less to us gays. We want our lifetime partnerships to be recognized by society and the legal system the same way that heterosexual partnerships are recognized. Is it so much to ask... for all the same rights as our straight counterparts?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"> I get sick when I come across a “preserve marriage” bumper sticker or some ignorant asshole who thinks gay is contagious and will turn his/her kids gay. Sorry to break it to you but your kids were already gay, and forcing them to suppress those normal and healthy attractions is only going to fuck them up. The best part of being human is the friendly, social, and sexual aspects, and to deny people those experiences because their friends are different than yours or because they are of a different social class would be ludicrous and hypocritical. As one gay rights activist wrote it on his picket, “Did we vote on your marriage?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"> The real issues at hand are the civil liberties and the legal rights that apply to husband and wife, but neither husband and husband nor wife and wife. Whether it’s monetary rights, taxes, adoption, legal benefits, or last will and testament, we deserve the same privileges. As long as their relationship is based on mutual love and the two adults are of age, I don’t see anything wrong with them getting married and raising a family. In fact, I have a hunch that in a few years, statistics will show that same-sex marriages have lower divorce rates, children that do better in school, and higher incomes. Or not. Maybe marriage will suck as much for gays as it does for straights. Either way, we deserve a shot.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And now, a special thanks to those who have made same-sex marriage possible and legally recognized:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUcSUHfnrRbFVI_oaKZv9GvLhqwc9U3SrAEveOhW5_3FpjH57vsRW554tlSZ1W1xGweXdI5hl0cH_zV9uRqvA2lMyg792FyRYkUvlqZy2vqcBP8L8Sf-3VppwNSV1KTeiXRa7S2v2eJEg/s1600/gay-marriage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUcSUHfnrRbFVI_oaKZv9GvLhqwc9U3SrAEveOhW5_3FpjH57vsRW554tlSZ1W1xGweXdI5hl0cH_zV9uRqvA2lMyg792FyRYkUvlqZy2vqcBP8L8Sf-3VppwNSV1KTeiXRa7S2v2eJEg/s200/gay-marriage.jpg" width="200" /></a>Argentina, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Belgium, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Canada, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Iceland, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Netherlands, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Norway, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Portugal, </div><div class="MsoNormal">South Africa, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Spain, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Sweden</div><div class="MsoNormal">...and some parts of the United States: </div><div class="MsoNormal">Connecticut, Washington D.C., Iowa, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New York, Vermont, and two Native American tribes, the Coquille and the Suquamish.</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-17782948288820976362011-08-02T22:56:00.002-04:002011-08-03T00:09:40.290-04:00Breaking Stereotypes And Blurring Labels<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> “Wow, really? I mean, you just seem very straight-acting,” is the response I usually get when I come out to people I have just met. Those who have known me for longer, however, say it kind of makes sense; “you never did talk about girls,” my one friend from high school phrased it. Up until recent decades, the only people who have been labeled gay are the ones who were obviously not your typical male or female. They were the emaciated men that pranced around singing show tunes in a high-pitched falsetto, or the overweight girls that watch football in gym shorts while sporting a short hair cut. But gays are everywhere… we could be anyone.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"> People think, “I can’t be gay because society won’t accept me and besides, look how easy it is to blend in as straight. Better not rock the boat.” But us people (not even gays) want to be happy, and if we are going to be happy, we have to be ourselves, open and honestly. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Ever since I came out, I’ve been the happiest, purest, most me I can remember. Before, when I heard gay comments I would feel awkward and get silent, or even defensive if it was directed towards me. I made the “leap of faith” (as opposed to “coming out of the closet”) the summer after my junior year of high school. I told one girl at a my house during a little shin dig, and within five minutes all the girls were asking me questions and talking amonst themselves about it. I think it eased some of their broken hearts, but it was fascinating to many to say the least. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> I made it a point to come out to my grade and my entire school because I knew that there must have been others like me who felt the same about his/her sexuality. I wanted to set an example that we can be proud and confident and successful just like everyone else. I was class president, captain of my wrestling team, and I was gay. My friends and peers were very accepting and I knew I had done the right thing. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> All I’m saying is that society has a certain view of what gay is, but each of us has the power to change that. Just look at the dehomophobification of the US military (yes, I made that word up) or the spreading of gay marriage from state to state (California, get your shit together). As long as you’re a good person, mean well, and try hard, then none of your true friends will ever turn their back on you. And the rest are just low-life, immature, assholes, and their time is waning. ‘Nough said. </div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-77423738856106369972011-07-28T17:50:00.001-04:002011-07-28T17:55:57.157-04:00Pornstar to President? It Could Happen...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"> A lot of people are going to disagree with me on this one, especially the conservatives, but I don’t see why participation in porn should automatically bar someone from politics. We’re all people and porn is a legal occupation, a completely legitimate form of work that provides taxes to the US government. There is clearly a demand for porn, so why can’t any willing and able person benefit from the production of such adult content. I think that having done porn should be viewed by employers the same way sexual orientation is; you can’t be overlooked for a raise or fired based on that information alone. Yes, it will always be a part of that person’s history, but that doesn’t me that the experience has damaged him/her for life or made them any less productive in their current occupation.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Pornstars can go on to be Broadway actors, accountants, barbers, teachers, parents, and even policemen (eg. Michael Verdugo) because society has no reason to defer them as valuable members of the community. If you allow porn to be purchased, then you need actors to perform in them, and why would you punish them for providing that service. Worldwide, porn generates 97 billion dollar industry (<a href="http://www.familysafemedia.com/pornography_statistics.html">see source</a>).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0xHZZLYT9Kr5Frpz-YgMVHolib7eT8R8IWGVGjNOb2v2Fduxhio2F9A00WMUUIMI9pt0uhfAMjhBXg_904JBBbhgpDtVBU9t03_Jupj1kyk7O5l0OtP81ml16XVLLEHqpk8T5EKsZ23Z/s1600/Arnold-Schwarzenegger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0xHZZLYT9Kr5Frpz-YgMVHolib7eT8R8IWGVGjNOb2v2Fduxhio2F9A00WMUUIMI9pt0uhfAMjhBXg_904JBBbhgpDtVBU9t03_Jupj1kyk7O5l0OtP81ml16XVLLEHqpk8T5EKsZ23Z/s320/Arnold-Schwarzenegger.jpg" width="259" /></a> Also, we seem to forget all the people who have “slipped-up” doing porn when they were younger and still went on to do great things… no presidents yet, but the list does include big name actors like Colin Ferrell, Sylvester Stallone, Jackie Chan, and Cameron Diaz… and not to mention, California’s governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger (<a href="http://www.cracked.com/article_14898_from-jackie-chan-to-carrie-fisher-10-most-unlikely-celeb-porn-stars.html">see source</a>). Where do we draw the line?</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Now female ex-pornstar, Stormy Daniels is running for Senator of Louisiana. Obviously, her views and integrity will be held to a higher standard because of her past, but all the power to her if she’s good enough. As long as the candidate is open and honest about their past, then they have nothing to fear and neither do people who vote for them. Sex happens between people all the time, so why should doing so in front of a camera mean you’re useless to any other sector of the economy. And if some can get away with it, then why shouldn't everyone? Maybe it's society's view on sexuality that's messed up and not the people who participate in materialization of that demand. Maybe.</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-62302563386414463322011-07-25T07:48:00.000-04:002011-07-25T07:48:01.426-04:00My Blood's Not Good Enough!?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNdLUP_-FmByV6FN_CeZr9knhKBq9i146f0U9QoGgGYGetHvQB_YqwIqArXYAEDMVOFAz-Ke2YkwSLihyVJlHOsNKEvBmeWgvCBhvr1JolpnDB9Vr_-2wO68bDlqqjcZTTNWhX5jqTOET/s1600/Red_Cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNdLUP_-FmByV6FN_CeZr9knhKBq9i146f0U9QoGgGYGetHvQB_YqwIqArXYAEDMVOFAz-Ke2YkwSLihyVJlHOsNKEvBmeWgvCBhvr1JolpnDB9Vr_-2wO68bDlqqjcZTTNWhX5jqTOET/s320/Red_Cross.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> One of the most traumatizing events of my adolescent life was when I was denied the ability to donate blood for the Red Cross. It was during Greek Week and I was donating blood for a competition, but also because I've donated blood before and it’s a good thing to do. Last time I had donated, however, was in high school and I'm pretty sure I lied about sleeping with guys just because I didn't want anyone to over hear (this was before I had come out). This time, I flat out answered question #24 "yes" in response to "If you are a male, have you ever had sexual relations with another man?" When the lady looking over my paper work asked me, are you sure about your answer to number #24, I said sure and thought nothing of it. She suddenly looked very quite and sad. "I'm sorry but your blood will be thrown out based on your answer to #24.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I was shocked, hurt, in disbelief that such an organization as the American Red Cross could be so discriminating in their blood selection. I've been tested several times, and I am well aware that I am perfectly clean, but what about the heterosexuals carrying HIV and other blood born diseases that are not so keen on getting tested? Do they seriously not even test other people's blood? This one CNN </span><a href="http://articles.cnn.com/2010-05-25/health/gay.blood.donation.ban_1_gay-blood-donors-blood-safety-america-s-blood-centers?_s=PM:HEALTH">article</a><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> from a year ago addresses the issue, pointing out that a straight male only has to wait a year after having sex with a prostitute before the Red Cross will accept his blood for donation. Sounds kind of silly to me. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Yes, I'm aware that gay men in America, and especially the cities, have a higher chance of carrying such STD's, but that does not warrant the deferral of our blood just because I have sex with men. Condoms have been proven to significantly reduce the risk of STD transmittance, reduce it to the point where I have a much lower chance of catching something than my straight friends who rarely wear condoms. Maybe they should be testing everyone when they give blood, wouldn't that be a great way to get tested and do something good for society. Just a thought… Wirthmore thought. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<!--EndFragment--> </div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-58540423884083418282011-07-22T11:29:00.002-04:002011-08-09T20:04:42.242-04:00Why Aren't More Men Sharing Serious Kisses On TV?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYfrAiJzBu-Y77k5IHB_nWjZVQkAVMOQkYuV2Bw7zampkDWLsEhXxRtrHmJhIOeKBFDl2vgYK2ozXmyPZKyis3exGsK_Fjg4GUcutTr6XgoyljbxH08NF-NIjoF3l7MDRU5gLsDdAePEug/s1600/gay_glee_kiss_blaine_kurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYfrAiJzBu-Y77k5IHB_nWjZVQkAVMOQkYuV2Bw7zampkDWLsEhXxRtrHmJhIOeKBFDl2vgYK2ozXmyPZKyis3exGsK_Fjg4GUcutTr6XgoyljbxH08NF-NIjoF3l7MDRU5gLsDdAePEug/s320/gay_glee_kiss_blaine_kurt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> I was watching an episode of Glee with some of my friends - much to their dismay - and it was the episode where Kurt and Blane share their first kiss. Now, my friends are straight, not homophobic by any means (they don't mind me doing the work that I do, which says a lot), but they are your typical run-of-the-mill 22 year old boys. They love barstool.com and playing girls like it's their job. So when the kiss was coming, I didn't know how they would react but if I had to guess I would have said not at all. That's why it kind of discouraged me to see one of my buddies turn away in disgust at the sight of the kiss while another one asked "Can they show that on TV!?" My answer, "Come on, are you guys serious? You can't even look at it? And of course they can show that on TV, it's 2011!" I couldn't blame them, however, because I too had been caught off guard by how uncomfortable I was when I first saw two men kiss on TV (it was the same episode only months earlier). Nevertheless, they soon dropped their case and accepted that if they are okay with guys like myself being together, they also have to be okay with seeing it from time to time on TV. I mean come on! I see straight couples share passionate kisses on day-time TV all the time. I realize we are living in a straight man's world, but we're here, we're queer, and people gotta get used to us kissing on TV more often, because that is well within our rights. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> I started reading a couple articles on gay men kissing on TV (because come on, we see women share kisses on TV all the time, although lacking deeper emotions). I came across <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2008/jun/24/asa.advertising">this</a> one ad for Heinz featuring their Deli Mayo. I thought it was hillarious, but because some conservative thinking parents were "offended" they took it of the air. I'm personally offended that I can't kiss a guy in a commercial on TV in the UK. I just wish Heinz in America had the balls to air this commercial, at least here we have the freedom of speech.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I also came across a couple articles by Brent Hartinger on AfterElton.com which I liked. The first <a href="http://www.afterelton.com/TV/2008/6/kissjustakiss">one</a> from 2008 discusses gay kisses on TV, serious kisses on soap operas and day-time drama's like As The World Turns and Greys Anatomy. The problem is that these were aired on ABC and CBS, which is why seeing two men kiss on FOX's Glee got me so excited the first time I saw it. Brent also has a more recent <a href="http://www.afterelton.com/TV/2008/6/kissjustakiss">article</a> from 2009 which is a bit more humorous and playful in that he rates kisses between straight guys on TV. But most of these kisses strive for more of a comic relief than an actual portrayal of LOVE. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> In my opinion, it is every gay man's duty to not only see men kissing on TV for themselves, but also show straight people, friends, and family what two normal men kissing on national television looks like. Until we desensitize ourselves and our loved ones to the simple idea of two men kissing, we will continue to struggle against the ignorance in this country that is preventing loving same-sex couple from marrying and having a family.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Thank you.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7236559639781679215.post-66279403178641873802011-07-21T16:39:00.000-04:002011-07-21T16:39:09.499-04:00Exodus International? WTF!?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3Gp7snBxFtz0fCpIuzG7r29Z-NKqGZaCugrszjJmrHksiU-iZOwIUalKQYJRKfrIkWclEnHzFfMv-VPHznL7oYX2y4_qHNdxia8pIfI4J0avQntzeTGInDAtjynx1ZCf1LlcwTdc01lS/s1600/judy+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3Gp7snBxFtz0fCpIuzG7r29Z-NKqGZaCugrszjJmrHksiU-iZOwIUalKQYJRKfrIkWclEnHzFfMv-VPHznL7oYX2y4_qHNdxia8pIfI4J0avQntzeTGInDAtjynx1ZCf1LlcwTdc01lS/s320/judy+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>So I just read <a href="http://www.rightwingwatch.org/content/exodus-international-attacks-google-and-toy-story-over-anti-suicide-ad">this</a> article about Alan Chamber's reaction to the Google Chrome commercial that showcases how it aided Dan Savage's "It Get's Better" campaign. That commercial, by the way, made me cry. Not out of sadness, but out of happiness that someone cared enough to program a computer generated Woody from Toy Story to tell little boys and girls everywhere, that it's okay to be gay. It's such a simple message, so beautiful and true, but one that I had to grapple with on my own. And even though my parents and friends were understanding, many aren't so lucky. For instance, Alan Chamber's kids. But at least their father used to be gay. Even more, he's justifying homophobic thinking, not to mention the thousands of parents who have abandoned their gay children at his pray-away-the-gay concentration camps, convincing them that he could "cure" homosexuality. Please note, the American Psychological Association concluded that homosexuality was not a disorder almost 40 years ago. There are homophobic misconceptions being spawned by the church and Exodus International isn't helping anymore than priests that privately practice pedophilia.</div>Adam Wirthmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00296212256034839854noreply@blogger.com0