Thoughts on Christianity

Originally, I meant to write these thoughts in my other journal – a mistress to my main, if you will.

I was raised a Catholic. We went to church on Sundays, from what I remember. When I moved overseas, I went to an English-speaking Catholic school run by nuns. Reading, Writing, and ‘Rithmetic were the order of the day – along with classes on religion.  I vaguely remember asking questions in those classes – I’d heard all the stories before it seemed. Usually my questions weren’t welcome.

I also remember that I never had my first communion as I was supposed to. I was fidgety, talkative, and otherwise a little shiftless when I wasn’t supposed to be. The importance of the Sacraments were lost on me then.

Through conversation with several people, I’ve slowly found myself drawn  back to that with which I had been raised. I couldn’t help but notice that there was knowledge in the bible, whether I believed its in tenets or not.

There are two things that strike me as the crux of why Christianity appeals to man.

1.The Concept of Ultimate Sin

I used to despise this concept. That I was a sinner at birth and there was nothing I could do to change that. I’m not the past, my forefathers, the deeds or misdeeds they’ve committed – yet I’m painted with the same brush? Tarnished by things of which I had no concept or understand of at birth. It seems like a cruel trick.

But now I realize, I think the actual importance of the concept. That is, eventually you come to terms with the idea that man is flawed. That you, yourself are flawed. That the only one who is perfect is God, and that you can only strive for perfection. This concept is not oppression, rather it is liberating. Tie this concept with the idea that God loves you – no matter what – and you’ve got a recipe for liberating mankind from disease of self loathing he is often prone to. Some days I wish I wasn’t me and that I could just die or disappear. Slowly, I’m coming to accept myself…

…whoever that is.

2. The Concept of Redemption

From my understand – this is the idea that one can atone from one’s sins; the idea that one is not forever condemned by virtue of one’s birth. It’s an important concept, I believe, because the belief that one is forever condemned by a mistake is soul killing. You may not realize it – but you can always stop what you’re doing and do the right thing today.

This is the idea that though the Devil may win from time to time – the war is not yet lost. Not by a long shot.


Combine those thoughts with another concept (one I think is oft misunderstood) – “You are all equal in the eyes of the Lord“. Many believe means that all humans are equal and try to endeavour to treat them as such if not engineer it to be “on earth as it is in Heaven“. I believe they’re wrong. To be equal in the eyes of the Lord is to receive equal Judgement on the last day – to attempt conflate being equal in God’s eyes is the same as trying measure the days God spent creating the universe, the world, and everything in it, in increments of 24 hours – a man-made unit of time.


P.S. That song, Cantata 147 by J.H. Bach is the first song I learned how to play on the piano. It was my first favorite song before it was unseated by another. It’s now my second favorite song.

H/T: Ace

Songs of my Childhood Part 1

I think that if you get to know someone’s musical tastes and when they had them, you get a more complete picture of who they are than otherwise. A lot of the time, one’s music tastes are inherited, passed down, or absorbed through osmosis. So I think it’s worth to take a look at the music you grew up, for it may have had an effect on you on the subconscious level. With hindsight, experience, and a little understanding – you can see any themes, whether through what the singer says, how she sings, or the general vibe of the music serve to leave their mark on you in one way or another.

So with that – I leave you a snippet of the music of my childhood; the album L’Instant d’après by Natasha St. Pier, a woman whose voice is so sultry I’d have sex with it. This very album (and a few others I’ll share later) carried me across France from 2000-2006. I remember going from Chateau to Chateau, climbing up and down them with my sister and also being very bored.

Often my sister and I’d ask “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

Five more minutes” was the usual reply (usually spaced about 30-60 minutes apart).


My father often told me:

“You’ll appreciate this one day.”

Damn was he ever correct. I only wish my appreciation came to fruition 15 years ago.


Why Younger Women?

From my browsing of several parts of the manosphere, I’ve seen a few arguments for and against the merits of women over 30.

On one side, you’ve got men who think women over thirty are, or can be sexier than their younger 18-23 year old counterparts. They say there’s a certain sophistication, class, and confidence to them and that the young-ins can often be quite annoying to be around, babbling nonsense and their latest pop culture bullshit. They cite personal experience.

On the other side, you’ve got men who completely disagree. They say that the younger crowd are younger, hotter, and tighter. Supple skin, good smell, fun to be around, and carefree. They say that older women are smelly, nowhere near as good looking as the young ones (hello wall), and even have trouble lubricating. They cite personal experience

So now I’ll cite some personal experience.


I’ve been with three women that color my experience and have helped me decide where I stand on this issue.

1. 42

The first woman was a 42 year old Asian woman. I met her on the subway when I was on the way to meet a Colombian girl I met off of POF. The metro had just closed and I spotted an Asian couple talking. I walked up to them, bottle of Prosecco in hand, and asked for a ride and the woman told me to hop on. We got in their car and started talking, The man’s name was Suki, which made me laugh because that means ‘bitches’ in Russian. I told him he should tell people his name was Suki because he got all the Suki. The woman laughed. She dropped him off and took me to my spot. The Colombian girl texted me that she was “sooooo drunk”. I told my driver that my paramour to-be would most like be a starfish and I was not about that life. I offered my Prosecco in exchange for a ride home. She agreed.

We got to my house, I pushed her over the wall (she had a nice tush) and we started drinking and watching a movie. By the pace of her drinking, I correctly assessed her state of mind, and slowly got her undressed* until we were making out. Took her upstairs and that was that. She left in the morning to tend to her children (she was divorced, though).

I saw her several times until about 2014 when there’s been no contact. Things I noticed?

She tasted funny and smelled funny sometimes. Her tongue had a weird texture and sometimes I didn’t want to kiss her, so I often pushed her head into my crotch. She was good fun and pleasant to talk to. But something like that could never be a long protracted arrangement.

2. 42-52

The second women was around the same age, if not 52. I can’t remember exactly how old other than I remember taking a woman home after a night of drinking. As I sobered up, she looked older and older. Because I was already horny, I was up for it anyway. She kept declining to have sex. As I sobered up more, I noticed that she tasted off and smelled off too. I kicked her out. Since then, the thought of getting with an older woman is off putting to me. Once I detect an old woman smell, it doesn’t do it for me. Or maybe the older a woman is, the more off putting a smell can be and triple that if our immune systems are not compatible (i.e. different). Maybe postmenopausal women have a smell designed to deter men from wasting their time?

3. 27

This girl was one I met off of POF. She’s a short, lithe Brazilian Au Pair. I’d been talking to her off and on for two years but never got around to meeting up with her, either because I couldn’t make a date that she was free or the communication stopped.

We finally met up this year. We went to my favorite bar to play pool. I paid around $5 for the pool games while she bought the drinks – apple cider by Strongbow. Probably the first time I’ve had that drink despite seeing it all over the place in England when I lived there. Light touching occasionally through the night. We talk, we laugh, we play pool, I win.

I move to the bar next to it to see Karaoke. She buys more cider. It’s my turn to sing and I think I do a good job. Hard to tell because my memory is hazy. I just remember that her mouth felt softer than singing feels good.

We head in a cab and initially I think we’re going to her house. She stops us halfway.

“No! We can’t go to my house, we have to go to yours.”

Immediately I eat $20 to back track. It would have been a mere 10 minutes walk and free of charge. We walk gingerly up the stairs, but her high heels defeat our stealth with a clonk on each step.

We creep into a room with a bed and she takes off some of her clothes, though reluctant to take off a few choice garments. She moves my hand away a few times. I take a few licks of silver and tell her.

“I loved Brazil when I was there. They were so warm and welcoming. All I did was try to eat the food and try to speak Portuguese and try to play football volleyball and they accepted me. I was one of the team. I felt like I could belong and for the first time in a while, I felt like I was truly at home. And that’s why I like spending time with you. You remind me of a better time. You make me feel at home.”

Garment by garment, we find ourselves naked. She’s in possession of a thin waist and a lovely posterior. I’ve got butt one complaint of the evening – she was a little dry at times. I had to use a little lube, which in her end, was not a bad thing. It just seemed so strange that’d she be so dry so soon. At first I thought it was my skill – but the locomotion of her body combined with characteristic “Ai” muttered not softly enough aroused me too much to give much steam those negative thoughts. She smelled good enough – and though I’m sure she’s no innocent little Angel – with all factors weighed, I’ve come to the conclusion that her age had something to do with it. It was only momentary – but it popped in my head that were she younger, the night would more memorable for the warmth of her backside than one dry patch in the interaction.

The crux of the matter? If a woman at 27 is having these issues – women after 30 probably don’t have it any better. Those kinds of things just don’t get better with time.


* I told her it was hot and to take off her sweater. She complied. I told her it was still hot and to take off her shirt and she complied. With her in my lap in but a bra and clothing below the waste, nature did the rest.

Violence is the Answer

Allow me to tell you the story of Jimmy.

Jimmy was a young boy playing army men with his friend Jonny. Jonny had a magnificent toy tank. Jimmy wanted to play with it, but Jonny didn’t want to share. Jimmy wanted to play with it anyway and took the tank. Jonny gave him a knuckle sandwich for his troubles. Now both Jimmy and Jonny were but little boys and as such, while Jimmy’s face certainly smarted, there was no damage. In a normal world that would have been that.

Jimmy’s mother heard his cries and came rushing into the room.

Jonny! How could you do that? Violence is never the answer. Tell Jimmy you’re sorry and shake hands.

Jonny apologized as he shook Jimmy’s hands, not sorry at all. Jimmy learned he could share people’s things whether they wanted to or not.

*15 years later*

Jimmy and Jonny are going to college. I don’t remember what they were studying because it isn’t important. What’s important is that Jimmy and Jonny live across from one another in an apartment. One day, Jimmy’s walking back up the stairs and notices that Jonny’s door is wide open. He walks inside to investigate when he spots a rather large pile of $5000 in cold, hard cash and a pile of white powder. Apparently Jimmy’s been doing well with his side business. Jimmy decides he needs to borrow some cash for activities and the $5000 sitting in front of him is perfect. Later that day, Jonny returns home only to find that his cash from his drug dealing has up and went.

He walks across the hall and knocks on Jimmy’s door.

Jimmy did you take my money?

Jimmy with dollars hanging in his waist band says that he has not.

Jimmy – first you steal my money and now you lie to my face.

And with that – Jonny the drug dealer stabs Jimmy to death.


What just happened is life and the end therefore when someone learns a lesson later on in life, when the cost of learning is higher than it is earlier on. Had Jimmy’s mom not stepped in – he would have suffered a sore face and a good lesson in interpersonal relations.

Secondly, it’s no coincidence that Von Clausewitz once called War “Politics by other means”. At the very basic level – Jonny punched Jimmy in the face when he saw that polite expressed his lack of desire to share did not dissuade or prevent Jimmy in any way from taking his beloved possession of a toy tank.



100 Words of Hate: Just Google It

I remember Ace from 80 Proof Oinomancy once penned a 100 words of hate series.

And while reading PDGumshoe‘s blog, and wondering if the word indigent and indignant were related, I had a spark of inspiration.


To the people who say “Just Google It”:

You claim that I am too lazy to google the answer myself, but your own reply belies your hypocritical, slothful nature. You assume I haven’t already googled the question with unsatisfactory results. I assume you just don’t know the answer and are wasting my goddamn time more than google. Even if I haven’t Googled it – there’s a reason why I asked you – because you know in some shape or fashion and can see where I’m coming from and therefore find the exact kind of answer I’m looking for, instead of one that’s similar. Eat a dick and choke.


They’ll Say Something If You’ll Listen

Since Ace from 80 Proof Oinomancy has neglected to post recently, I thought I’d detail some salient points form a recent conversation we had over the phone…and pick up the slack.

You see, this past weekend, I broke up with my girlfriend. It was the most amicable break up I’ve had the pleasure of enduring to this day. The thing was, I knew it was coming. I knew it the night before. I knew it a month before.

Because I had warnings – repeated warnings.

Many men who say they didn’t see it coming either couldn’t read the signs or didn’t want to.

You know how it goes. The relationship cools down slightly. Comfortable. You’ve got a confidence that’s hard to rock.

Then it happens. Somethings’s amiss.

She doesn’t refer to you by your usual pet name. She doesn’t sign off in the usual manner. She replies to the messages you send slower than usual. She forgets to call you back. She is not as receptive to your advances as you last remember. She asks you what would you would do if she just didn’t want to have sex anymore. You can’t remember the last time she got jealous. She told you that if you broke up, she was happy she met you.

I’m sure you’ll recognize something in there.

Talking with Ace, he told me that in his experience it’s quite rare that a man gets less than a month’s notice. In my experience, I’d have to agree.

In my most recent relationship, were I to be completely honest, I had about 8 months advance warning, when she told me that she was happy she met me and that I was her first and if we broke up when I graduated, she’d have no regrets.

When she came back from El Salvador after visiting her family for a month, she tried my patience by revealing a new desire to be pure. Her family does not know about how far she and I have gone and constantly advise her to be chaste. She asked me a second time* about how I would feel if she didn’t want to have sex anymore.

She casually inserted “if we broke up” into conversation after Spring Break.

A month ago she sent me this message:

Hola amor. I can’t sleep.I have a lot in my mind and I want to send you this text, kind of like a letter. I have to say that This [sic] year hasn’t been going as I was expecting, and I’ kinda disappointed about it. What worries me the most is that it doesn’t that is going to get any better. Seems like you are going to be away most of the time, you graduated from college and your life seems to be going somewhere where I am not included. I’m so happy that you are becoming such an independent person and I’m extremely proud of you for that. I’m just telling you the things that I have in my mind, and that sometimes I can’t say when we talk. I remember how much we used to talk at the beginning, even though we were busy we found the time to discover more about each other. My love for you have increased since then, I could see the huge heart that you have, I love that you could open up with me and let me meet you better. I love how you care about your dog and cat, I like how you like to cook, and clean your house, I love when I make you laugh, I love when you get excited for something and can’t stop smiling. I’ve been thinking about how we talk about the future, and how I can see ourselves together,but is so hard to picture the present together for everything that is going on. The thought of break up with you terrifies me, because I don’t want to, I love you and I want you to always know that. There are time [sic] when I just like to stare at you because I like seeing you and I want to cross  the screen so I can hug you, but I can’t. I’m scare that you might meet someone while you are there, I’m not afraid I’m going to meet someone because I’m not interested on [sic] on meeting anyone else. But you are there alone, in a new place, and you are meeting new people, when I’m here with the same routine, plus sleeping a lot. I know all this is something I should have told you when we spoke today instead of being here writing, but sometimes I’m better writing than speaking.

I want to know what you think about all this.

Te quiero <3.

That’s about as clear of a warning as you can get. Our situation didn’t change. She stopped calling me amor and saying “Te amo” as opposed to “Te quiero” two weeks after she sent that text.

Two weeks after that, we broke up.


*The first time she asked, we were in a car, late at night, in the parking lot behind a large American supermarket. She asked me the same question, I gave the “right” answer, won that battle, took the spoils of conquest without a thought to the direction that the war just took.

In my mind now, my first responce to such a woman asking me about how I felt about the cessation of sexual healing would be another question of my own:

“How would you feel about me having sex with another girl?”

In the end, it’s all you can do

I was going to write a sad poem in German today, to release some despondent energy, from a recent family misfortune. I could barely write more than two lines.

“Jeder sagt es ist ein Teil seines Plan’,

Es gibt nichts, dass ich tun kann”

I’m not one to talk much about matters of the heart, at least not at first. In a short time, I’ve been surprised by such kindness from a few people. Despite surplus of lamentation of flaws, there are still people and behaviors that give one hope.

The important thing is to keep going and do your best. Self medicate if you must, but don’t do anything too rash or crazy. Give yourself time to mourn, but don’t let it derail you. If you do, you’ll find that pain with more pain is not a matter of simple addition, or even a matter of compound interest. Pain increases exponentially.

So whenever you encounter hardship and find yourself waiting to see how it will turn out, for good or ill, keep going and do the best you can. In the end, it’s all you can do.



(IYLG): #2 Катюша

I wrote a post last year in December detailing a simple tip on how to improve your skills in a desired language; to sing a song. Recently, I learned how to sing the song Katyusha (Катюша). It was created in 1938 by Matvey Blanter and Mikhail Isakovsky and it gained fame as an inspiration for defending one’s homeland. It is not to be confused with the Russian rocket launching truck by the same name. I learned how to sing this song two weeks ago and sang for my family, three Russian teachers of mine, and two female Russian students. They all thought I sound good. Or at least, I didn’t see any of them clasp bleeding ears after my rendition.


Расцветали яблони и груши,
Поплыли туманы над рекой;
Выходила на берег Катюша,
На высокий берег, на крутой.

Выходила, песню заводила
Про степного, сизого орла,
Про того, которого любила,
Про того, чьи письма берегла.

Ой, ты песня, песенка девичья,
Ты лети за ясным солнцем вслед,
И бойцу на дальнем пограничье
От Катюши передай привет.

Пусть он вспомнит девушку простую,
Пусть услышить, как она поет,
Пусть он землю бережет родную,
А любовь Катюша сбережет.

Расщветали яблони и груши,
Поплыли туманы над рекой;
Выходила на берег Катюша,
На высокий берег, на крутой


Update: New Additions to 80 Proof Playlist

I’ve perused Ace’s blog once more and found more songs I like very much. I’ve decided to add to the post I originally made, bring the total amount of songs to 55.

Here are the new entries, in order of oldest post to newest:

  1. “If my heart were still alive, I know it would surely break…” (Megadeth – A Tout Le Monde)
  2. “It’s unlikely the world will end tomorrow-“ (Soundgarden – Black Hole Sun)
  3. “How will I know that you’ll be good, doing the things you know you should?” (Dommin – My Heart, Your Hands)
  4. “Shhhhh, it’s Ok; it’s just me.” (Panzer AG – Monster)
  5. “I dare you to call my bluff; [I] can’t take too much of a good thing…” (Halestorm – I Miss The Misery)
  6. “Don’t forget this fact – you can’t get it back…” (J.J. CALE – Cocaine)
  7. “They’re sharing a drink called loneliness, but it’s better than drinking alone.” (Billy Joel – Piano Man)
  8. “I try to convince myself that the plane is not gone.” (Slaughter – Fly to the Angels)
  9. “…saeclum in favilla” (Mozart – Requiem in D minor)
  10. “There’s nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home…” (Six:AM – Life is Beautiful)
  11. “This will never end ’cause I want more.” (Fever Ray – If I had a Heart)
  12. “Forever in debt to your priceless advice…” (Lana Del Ray Cover of Nirvana – Heart Shaped Box)
  13. “But I can’t fix you and you don’t want me…” (She Wants Revenge – Someone Must Get Hurt)
  14. “…you feed it once and now it stays…”  (Metallica – Until it sleeps)
  15. “In the dawn, I wake up to find her gone and a note says:”  (Tito & Tarantula – After Dark)
  16. “Trust me and take my hand; when the lights go out, you’ll understand…” (Three Days Grace – Pain)
  17. “If I can’t swim after 40 days…” (Jars of Clay – Flood)

I’ve also rearranged all the songs on my original playlist post so that they are in the same order. The newest posts are at the bottom. The 80 Proof Playlist should now be one of the pages I have up, so that it is easier to access and peruse.


(Entire 80 Proof Playlist)