Left-handedness and Homosexuality

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% (source). 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.

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).

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.

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.

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.

Aight, I’m going off on a tangent, so I’ll rap it up…

Gays are a necessary piece of the pie, even if we don’t know why.

Some of us are meant to be gay, ‘cause baby we were born this way!

Long Live Lady Gaga!

Peace.

Evangelicals Spew Hate, Ignorance, and Intolerance Into Uganda

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Relationships - Part III

            Sometime around 6^th 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.

            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.

            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.

            “Fagget!”

            '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.

            “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.

            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.

            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.

            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:

            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 Jägermeister (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.              

              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.

            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.

            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.

            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.

            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.

            “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.

            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.

            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.

            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:

1)    One-on-one

2)    With a close friend

3)    Under the influence of alcohol

WARNING: I’m not saying this will work every time, but if it’s going to happen, it’ll probably be under these circumstances.

Relationships - Part II

            Now on to 3^rd 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.

            It was 5^th 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.

            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^th 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.

            Scott also had older siblings, two brothers Mitch and Ben that were in the 6^th and 7^th 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.

            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^th 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.

            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.

            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!?”
            “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.

            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?”
            His response, “Don’t you want to be ready when a girl does it?” Seemed practical enough.
            I looked at Brad, he nodded nonchalantly and said, “It’s fine.”
            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.

            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^th 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.

            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.

            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.

            Stay tuned to find out which one I lost my virginity to in high school!

Realtionships - Part I

            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.

            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^th birthday party when I came running out naked, asking for cake like nothing at all was out of the ordinary.

            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.

            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^th grade, but now I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to 2^nd grade.

            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.

            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.

            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.

(to be continued…)

The Older Brother Effect

             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 (LINK) 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.

            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 (LINK), 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.

            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.

            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.

            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.

What's Up Fellas!

          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!

 

         Photo Courtesy of FLYFOTO: Images to Inspire. (c) 2011