October 18, 2019 · 5:58 am

Birthday Reflections: My 20s Vs. My 30s

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Recently, I celebrated my birthday. It didn’t involve an elaborate party or some special event. It wasn’t just another day, either. I went out of my way to make it special, as did my friends and family. By the standards of a man in his 30s, it was a good birthday. I didn’t need much. I just needed a day that made getting older feel less daunting.

As we get older, our attitudes towards birthdays change. When we’re young, birthdays are this big event that we go out of our way to make memorable. As kids, it’s an excuse to have a big party full of cakes, presents, and birthday checks from generous relatives. As teenagers, it’s another year gone by and another step closer towards greater independence.

Once we enter our 20s, however, things get trickier. We start to see birthdays less as events and more as formalities. By that time, most of us have other pressing concerns beyond which cake we want and how we’ll spend our birthday checks, assuming our relatives still send them. That experience may vary, depending on your circumstances. For me, my 20s was a strange time and it showed in how I celebrated birthdays.

These days, I feel like I’ve achieved just the right balance when it comes to birthdays. At the same time, each passing year has helped put what I went through in my 20s into a clearer perspective. You can’t always see the forest from the trees when you’re young. It takes years of living, learning, growth, success, and even failure to truly appreciate how your life changes.

I found myself appreciating that even more this past week. When I look back at how I was in my 20s, I see just how far I’ve come. Ten years ago, I was in a very different place. I had just graduated college. I was still paying off debt, searching for a steady job, and trying to establish myself. It was not a smooth ride, but it was not as difficult as it could’ve been.

It helped that I had a supportive family who helped me transition from college to the adult world. It helped even more that they let me move back home and live rent free until I saved up enough money to pay down my debts and move out. They helped make parts of the transition easier, but I still made it harder on myself in way too many ways.

In my 20s, the memories of high school were still fresh in my mind. On top of that, I had broken up with my college girlfriend and I still hadn’t quite recovered. I also had a long way to go in terms of refining my social skills. At that time, I was still very socially awkward. I avoided parties and large crowds. I had a hard time striking up conversations. I also lacked confidence, poise, and vision.

For the most part, I treated adult life in my 20s the same way I treated college. In my defense, that was the life I’d gotten used to at that point. I treated work like going to class. I only ever saw work as a means to a paycheck that I could use to pay down my debts and pay my rent. When problems came up, my first instinct wasn’t to solve them. It was to find someone else who could.

In some cases, I held myself back. I clung to the less burdensome life I had in college. I relied heavily on friends and parents to help me with things like taxes, car repairs, and finding quality health care. Again, my family was awesome every step of the way and didn’t berate me for relying on them so much. However, at some point, I had to grow up on my own.

That process didn’t really pick up until my late 20s. That was around the time when I finally caught up in terms of social skills. It was also the same time I gained more professional and career experience. I no longer saw work as a means to a paycheck. I saw it as a part of a blossoming career. Compared to how many others in their 20s have struggled, I was considerably lucky.

Once I made it into my 30s, my outlook changed even more. I stopped looking at things in terms of when I got my next paycheck and started making plans for the future. I dared to set bolder goals for myself. I also dared to learn more skills that hadn’t interested me before. Something as simple as inflating a tire on my car or fixing my garbage disposal became a real endeavor.

At that same time, I also became more health conscious, both physically and mentally. I’ve noted before how unhealthy I was in my early 20s. Back then, it wasn’t unusual for me to create entire meals around bowls of cereal drenched in chocolate milk. The most I did in terms of cooking involved hot pockets and burritos.

Again, in my defense, that was what I’d gotten used to in college. It certainly wasn’t healthy and that showed in my appearance. Even though I was young, I wasn’t exactly fit. I had no muscle tone and a less-than-toned stomach. I also avoided exercise to the utmost. My hatred of gym class in high school somehow followed me into my 20s.

Now that I’m in my 30s, I can safely say that I’m more physically fit than I was when I graduated college. I’ll even go so far as to say I’m more attractive. I can see my ab muscles. I have biceps that are worth showing off. I can run for three miles with ease and I go to the gym at least twice a week. I also eat much better than I did in my 20s. I can actually cook a healthy meal without relying on a microwave.

It may not sound like much, but all those little things really accumulated once I hit my 30s. It didn’t happen all at once. It was a process, one that allowed me to become a functional adult that I’m proud to be. I’ve built a good life for myself. I have confidence, good health, a great family, and a strong support structure that brings out the best in me.

It even showed in how I approached birthdays. In my 20s, birthdays reminded me that I’m getting older. In my 30s, they affirm that I’ve grown into a man that I’m proud of and I want to keep growing.

Every now and then, especially around my birthday, I find myself contemplating what I would’ve done differently in my 20s, knowing what I know now. With each passing year, however, I realize that there’s not much I could’ve done. Even with the benefit of hindsight, I feel like I had to go through that awkward transition period in my 20s. It made me a better person, in the long run.

Now, as I near my 40s, I look forward to seeing the kind of person I grow into. I also hope to meet that special someone along the way. Until that time comes, I feel like I’ve got a healthy attitude towards birthdays and most other things now that I’m in my 30s. My 20s were fun in many ways, but I don’t miss them.

I’m excited about my future. I’m hopeful about where life will take me. I don’t doubt for a second that who I am now will be very different than who I am in another 10 years. Hopefully, by that time, I’ll be able to share more reflections about that journey. Only time will tell.

Until then, to all those who helped make my birthday special this year, I sincerely thank you.

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October 17, 2019 · 5:50 am

Purpose, Value, And The Suicide Gender Gap

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There are few subjects more depressing and tragic than suicide. It’s not a topic people like to talk about. When people take their own lives, either out of sorrow or desperation, it’s terrible. It leaves deep, painful scars on friends and loved ones.

However, it’s because suicide is such a difficult subject that people should talk about it. Before I go any further, I want to urge anyone who might be feeling deeply depressed or suicidal to seek help. The suicide hotline is always available. Please, if you’re feeling that hopeless, call 1-800-273-8255. As someone who has had depressing stretches in life, I urge others in a crisis to seek connection.

Unfortunately, it’s not a connection that people are making these days. According to the American Psychological Association, there was a 30 percent increase in death by suicides from 2000 to 2016. It was the 10th leading cause of death in the United States in 2016. By the numbers, we haven’t seen rates like this since the Great Depression.

There are a great many depressing and tragic factors behind this rise. The ongoing opioid crisis is certainly a factor. A few researchers have cited the influence of social media as contributing to self-destructive behavior. Like mass shootings, everyone has their theories, criticisms, and solutions to the crisis. I’m of the opinion that human beings are too complex to boil it down to something simple.

I agree that in certain cases, opioid addiction can factor into someone committing suicide.

I agree that in certain cases, the use and influence of social media can factor into someone committing suicide.

That’s not to say they’re the cause of it. They’re just small trees in a much larger forest that’s difficult to see, given the heavy emotions involved in this topic. However, I do believe it’s possible to see that bigger picture. To do so, it’s necessary to highlight one particular trend in suicide that also happens to be tied with gender politics.

While suicide is tragic, regardless of gender, there exists an unusual paradox within the data. Women have been shown to attempt and contemplate suicide more than men, but men are still the ones dying at greater rates. It’s not a trivial gap, either. Men are more than three times as likely to commit suicide compared to women.

This indicates there are factors beyond depression, stress, and mental illness. There are other forces at work here and they’re affecting men more than women. What that is and how it works is difficult to surmise. However, speaking as a man who has seen other men endure depressing situations, I believe there are certain factors that gender politics compounds.

At the core of these factors are an individual’s sense of purpose and value. There are many terrible things running through the mind of someone who is suicidal, but it’s not unreasonable to suspect that people who feel suicidal often feel their lives lack purpose and value. There’s nothing left for them to contribute. There’s no value for them to provide. Without that, what’s the point?

It sounds like the kind of sentiment that should affect men and women equally. Depression and despair, after all, know no gender. However, there are a few confounding factors for men. For one, there’s still a significant taboo for men who admit to even having such feelings. It stems from the same taboo about men showing emotions, in general. It’s seen as a form of weakness and men aren’t allowed to be weak.

To understand the implications of that taboo, consider the following scenario.

A man is sitting by himself. He’s crying uncontrollably. He’s sad, depressed, and lonely. He feels like he has nothing to live for. Someone walks by and shows concern. They listen to him lament about his sorrow. They offer sympathy, but tell him he needs to toughen up and get his act together. He just needs to grit his teeth and push forward with his life.

For most people, this scenario isn’t that unrealistic. Most decent human beings will show sympathy when they see someone suffering, male or female. However, the gender of the person suffering does have an impact. I’ve explained before how and why society places a greater emphasis on protecting women’s bodies over those of men.

Even if you discount the extent of that influence, the implications are still clear. We see a depressed man and tell him to fight through it. If he needs to be coddled or treated, then that’s a failure on his part. If he’s that weak, then he has little value to offer. Without value, he has little purpose as well. In essence, he has to prove he’s somehow useful to warrant not killing himself.

Now, consider this scenario.

A woman is sitting by herself. She’s crying uncontrollably. She’s sad, depressed, and lonely. She feels like she has nothing to live for. Someone walks by and shows concern. They listen to her about her sorrow. They offer sympathy and encourage her to find professional help. They even offer contacts and connections. She’s suffering and there are people willing to help her.

Take note of the different approach in this scenario. The person still show sympathy and compassion, as most human beings are wired to do. Where they diverge is in the assumptions surrounding the woman’s distress.

For her, it’s not something she can tough her way through. She’s not expected to just grit her teeth, pull herself out of this deep pit, and move beyond whatever is making her so upset. She’s suffering and the first instinct is to get her some meaningful help. Her life has inherent value. Her just being alive is sufficient to give her purpose.

It’s impossible to overstate the importance of that assumption. It’s an assumption that many men feel like they don’t get. Their suffering is seen as a personal failure. A woman’s suffering is seen as a systemic failure that needs fixing. It perfectly reflects one of Chris Rock’s most memorable quotes.

“Only women, children, and dogs get loved unconditionally. A man is only loved under the condition that he provides something.”

In the context of suicide, men who don’t provide anything have no value. Absent that value, they have no purpose for existing. The source of this disparity is difficult to pin down. Some of it is cultural. Most data shows that when people live in a society with high social cohesion and abundant career opportunities, suicide is low.

That makes intuitive sense. Those social bonds provide purpose. Those opportunities provide value. When people have both, they’re less likely to be depressed. Even if they are, they have a support system that’s there to help them, regardless of their gender or disposition. These bonds are harder to maintain for men because they have to provide something.

Even though women may contemplate or attempt suicide more frequently, the current makeup of society and gender norms provides them with any number of affirmations to remind them of their value. If nothing else, it gives women a moment of pause. Most men don’t get that moment. It’s truly tragic, but it’s a tragedy that gender politics does plenty to compound.

Again, if you are feeling suicidal, regardless of your gender, please take this as my personal plea to seek help. It’s okay to do so. Your life has value. Your life has purpose. Call 1-800-273-8255 if you need to talk. People will listen. People will give you a chance. Whatever the disparities may be, let’s not add to the tragedy.

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October 16, 2019 · 6:08 am

Jack Fisher’s Weekly Quick Pick Comic: X-Men #1

At their most basic, superhero comics involve extraordinary characters saving the day against extraordinary threats. Whether it’s battling invading aliens, fighting giant robots, or thwarting evil scientists, a simple superhero comic makes the most of this dynamic. To become something better, though, it has to do much more than the basics.

X-Men comics have never relied heavily on the basics. While they’ve fought their share of aliens, killer robots, and mad scientists, that has only ever been a small part of their story. From the early days of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby to the heyday of Chris Claremont, the X-Men are at their best when they’re more than just superheroes. They’re a family.

They may not be a family in the traditional sense. Then again, part of the X-Men’s defining trait is that they’re not traditional. They’re mutants. They’re outsiders. They’re different, but uncannily so. That’s the spirit that Jonathan Hickman and Leinil Francis Yu capture in “X-Men #1.”

They still fight bad guys. They still save the day, living and fighting in a world that can’t resist the urge to slaughter them with killer robots. They also live, love, and cherish one another, as any other family. Theirs just happens to be more uncanny than most.

Building on the foundation that both “House of X” and “Powers of X” so masterfully built, “X-Men #1” establishes how the X-Men operate in a world where they have a homeland in Krakoa and unprecedented unity among their kind. There are still battles to be fought, some of which began during the events of “House of X.” Fittingly enough, Cyclops is at the front line of those battles.

For a character who has been denigrated, killed off, brought back to life, and endlessly criticized for how he’s handled his personal life, it’s nothing short of refreshing. Say what you will about Cyclops and the questionable choices he’s made, he’s still the X-Men’s consummate leader. He always has been and always will be. It’s one of the most defining aspects of his character.

Hickman affirms that at every turn in “X-Men #1.” Cyclops is the one who leads the charge against Orchis, the big human-led conspiracy to counter mutant evolution, who proved themselves quite capable in “House of X.” They may have lost a big chunk of their operation, but they’re still a threat and Cyclops leads the charge against them.

On paper, it’s simple. The way it plays out offers plenty of complexities. The exchanges between Cyclops, Storm, and Magneto highlight the strength of their personalities. They aren’t just costumed heroes saving the day. They have personal stakes in this battle and it only gets more personal at the story unfolds.

The battle they fight is only a small part of a more intimate story. Just saving the day and further crippling Orchis isn’t enough. The most endearing moments of “X-Men #1” are the ones that show Cyclops living his life outside his heroic persona. They show that, when he’s not in battle, he has a home to go back to.

That home doesn’t just include his friends and fellow teammates. They include his father, his brothers, and his kids, including ones from dystopian timelines. Given the many complexities and complications surrounding the Summers family, it’s refreshing to see this family come together again. If anything, it’s downright refreshing.

It shows that the X-Men aren’t just about going from battle to battle, saving the day and stopping the next great extinction event. They have lives they wish to build. They have close personal connections they wish to foster. Beyond making them better superheroes, it helps show that they’re still very human at their core.

However, this personal touch doesn’t just apply to the X-Men, Cyclops’ family, or superheroes in general. Even their enemies have a personal stake in this new post-Krakoan world. Just as he did in “House of X,” Hickman makes it clear that Orchis aren’t just another generic threat to mutants that rely heavily on killer robots. It’s personal for them too.

Many of the individuals involved in Orchis are still unknowns, but their motivations become much clearer in “X-Men #1.” It’s also clear that they still have the resources and the will to become a much bigger threat. They may not be a family on the same level as Cyclops and his fellow X-Men, but they’re every bit as driven to protect it. That makes them more dangerous than any killer robot.

Overall, “X-Men #1” has both the basics and the more advanced features that make for a quality superhero comic. Hickman sticks closely to the classic X-Men formula that has been subject to so many tweaks, overhauls, and upheavals in recent years. Yu’s dazzling artwork brings vibrant, colorful aesthetics to that formula. It’s as complete an X-Men comic as you’ll get without a Patrick Stewart voice-over.

It’s a bold new era for the X-Men. Hickman deconstructed and rebuilt the X-Men through “House of X” and “Powers of X.” However, the core components remain the same and as strong as ever. There’s heroics, killer robots, and sweet family moments. It’s a big part of what makes the X-Men so uncanny.

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October 15, 2019 · 5:58 am

Daily Sexy Musing: Sexy Costumes

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With Halloween right around the corner, costumes are becoming a more relevant issue. A lot of kids are already contemplating what they’ll dress up as when they go trick-or-treating. Many more adults are probably contemplating what they can dress up as, either to attend a party or get a good laugh from someone.

It helps that more than a few of those adults will be seeking to dress as something overtly sexy. Sexy costumed versions of things have always existed, but it feels like they’ve become more mainstream in recent years. As a fan of looking sexy and dressing sexy, I’m all for it. I know it pisses off some people who are eager to get outraged over certain costumes, but those people don’t deserve our attention or sympathy.

For me, sexy costumes are even more relevant and not just because Halloween is coming soon. I just got back from another amazing day at New York Comic Con. Like in years past, I dressed up to share the experience with plenty of fellow cos-players. While my costume wasn’t that sexy, there were plenty of others who dare to push the envelope.

Sexy costumes aren’t specific to one time of the year. There’s really nothing from stopping anyone from wearing a sexy costume. When you have a lover who responds to it, then you have even more incentive. It’s fun. It’s playful. It can even be downright romantic. Between this, the Halloween spirit, and the New York Comic Con, sexy costumes are more than worthy of a Daily Sexy Musing. Enjoy!

We style our hair.

We put on a mask.

We smother ourselves with makeup, jewelry, and accessories.

We become someone else entirely.

It’s both liberating and refreshing, inhabiting the form of another. Whether born of fiction, history, or lore, we exchange our regular persona for something wildly different. Instead of blending in, we stand out. Nobody else looks, acts, and conducts themselves as we do. Our attire and demeanor is an aberration, but that’s exactly what makes it exciting.

In this new form, I feel a unique energy. Like tapping into a new source of power, I channel an outside spirit. This new persona dares to do things that I wouldn’t in my usual attire. I’ll cast you a deviant glance, implying deviant activities that you and I only contemplated in jest. Now, it’s serious. We’re not the same mundane lovers we once were.

We are superheroes saving the day.

We are monsters wreaking havoc.

We are villains causing chaos.

We are mythical figures come to life.

Filled with this energy and spirit, our love manifests in entirely new ways. I dare to be bolder, speaking in a voice that is not my own. You dare to match me every step of the way, sharing an intensity that gets my heart racing. It sends our passions into overdrive. The line between one persona and the other blurs.

Finally, it culminates.

Our new identities take over.

Our new passions are unleashed.

These costumes become more than elaborate attire. They are a new conduit for new passions. In this form, our love manifests in a very different way. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, and even a little deviant. We know each other so well, but in these costumes, we realize just how much more there is to learn.

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October 14, 2019 · 7:42 am

Why “Joker” Is Brilliant, But Controversial (For The Wrong Reasons)

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Every now and then, a movie comes along that’s brilliant in so many ways, but undermined by the circumstances of its release. In the same way certain movies come along at just the right time to become a cultural phenomenon, others hit theaters with unexpected forces working against them.

When “The Dark Knight” came out in 2008, its timing was perfect. It struck all the right notes from a cinematic, narrative, and cultural perspective. On top of that, Heath Ledger’s performance as the Joker went down as one of the greatest displays of acting prowess of all time, and not just for a superhero movie. For many, myself included, Ledger’s version of the Joker will always be the one by which all others are measured.

By contrast, “Joker” couldn’t have been timed worse. The current social, political, and cultural landscape is vulnerable and hypersensitive to every one of the themes it explores. On top of that, the movie explores those things very well, so much so that it warrants being in the same conversation as “The Dark Knight” in terms of how it portrays the Joker.

While Heath Ledger’s Joker is still superior in almost every way, what Joaquin Phoenix accomplished in this movie deserves plenty of praise. At the very least, it helps cleanse the memories of those still cringing at Jared Leto’s rather eccentric take on the character in “Suicide Squad.”

This movie, as well as Phoenix’s performance, comes at a time when taboos about mental health and disturbed lonely men are hot-button topics. On top of that, a string of mass shootings perpetrated by disturbed men, some with disturbing manifestos, has created real-life horror while stoking genuine fears. The story in “Joker” neither avoids nor downplays those issues.

This movie also dares to do something that few beyond Alan More has been able to achieve, which is to give the Joker a backstory. For many lifelong comic fans, especially Batman fans, the very concept of fleshing out this character undermines the core of his appeal. He has always functioned better as a chaotic force of nature rather than a person with a tangible history.

Ever since his creation in 1940, his life and his story have been vague. He has been defined as a perfect counter to Batman’s never-ending crusade. Whereas Batman seeks justice through clear, defined rules, the Joker seeks chaos and laughs at such rules. He can never be too defined, as a character, if he’s to personify that chaos.

Despite these challenges, “Joker” finds a way to tell his story and, like “The Dark Knight” before it, actually manages to make the Joker even more terrifying. Through the character of Arthur Fleck, we see a disturbed mind trapped within an environment that does everything to make his condition worse. Through both unavoidable circumstances and fateful choices, we see this broken mind become something far more dangerous.

It doesn’t happen all at once. There’s no single trigger, like falling into a vat of chemicals. There’s a cumulative effect to Arthur Fleck’s transformation. It’s not always logical or smooth, which comes off as intentional from the beginning. The only constant is that Fleck gets more twisted and unhinged with each escalating event.

This is where Phoenix’s performance really shines. He carries himself with a presence that feels very close to what Ledger captured in “The Dark Knight.” He starts off as simply being mentally ill and struggling with it. However, what he does with his illness and what it does to him turns him into something more than just another disturbed loner.

It’s here where the controversy behind the “Joker” takes hold. I would argue it’s a dumb controversy, but it was serious enough for Aurora, Colorado to cancel screenings of the movie. While it feels like an overreaction, it’s somewhat understandable, given what happened in Aurora in 2012.

If that were the extent of the controversy, then “Joker” would only be a passing concern for most people. Then came the idea the movie celebrates or glorifies “incel culture” through Fleck’s story. While I usually try to be balanced when scrutinizing certain ideas, even if they’re absurd, I can’t do that this time.

Simply put, this part of the controversy is just plain stupid. There’s no better way to say it.

Worrying that this movie might somehow inspire lonely, disturbed men to go on killing sprees is completely without merit. It’s akin to worrying that “Friday the 13th” will inspire anyone who wears a hockey mask to brutally murder camp counselors. Moreover, the absurdity of this controversy undercuts the more substantive messages of this movie.

There is a real message in “Joker” and it has nothing to do with incels, masculinity, or even violence. In this world, Gotham City is the perfect symbol of a grossly flawed society that tries to pretend those flaws can be fixed by staying the course. From the perspective of people like Arthur Fleck, this notion is a complete joke.

Much like our world, there’s a small segment of very rich, very powerful people who benefit the most from this society. The Wayne family is the perfect manifestation of this joke. Even when they carry themselves as responsible, upstanding pillars of the community, they still look down at those who are dissatisfied. On top of that, they think their dissatisfaction is a flaw.

Arthur Fleck is as caught up as anyone in this decaying society. Then, through details I won’t spoil, he starts something that inspires chaos that would make Heath Ledger’s Joker proud. That chaos may or may not be entirely justified, but it’s understandable. In a sense, the Joker is just an extreme manifestation of something that seemed inevitable.

If there is a real controversy with “Joker,” it’s that the wrong issues became controversial. This movie conveys a message to the rich, powerful people who benefit the most from society that things aren’t as rosy as they seem. Those same people who think they know the solutions have no idea what people at the bottom are going through and dismissing them as “clowns” only makes things worse.

We’ve already seen this happen in the real world. The powerful who seek greater power call those who lash out as unimportant or misguided. They think those who protest loudly have nothing of merit to say, which only feels like an excuse to not listen. In that sense, it’s probably not surprising that many media outlets have turned on this movie, albeit for the wrong reasons.

At its core, “Joker” highlights the craziness that compounds craziness. In a world that’s unfair, unjust, and full of lies, how can sane person not be driven insane by their circumstances? Arthur Fleck had more circumstances than most and his mental illness only compounded the situation.

There are times when it’s not entirely clear when the events unfolding are real or vivid delusions. It nicely reflects the uncertain nature of the Joker’s origins, as both the Killing Joke and “The Dark Knight” have previously established. There’s a point in the movie where it becomes unclear where Arthur Fleck truly comes from or whether that name is truly his.

In the end, his name doesn’t matter because once he becomes the Joker, he becomes something more than just a mentally ill loner. For certain people who have seen mentally ill loners commit atrocities in the real world, it sparks real fear. At the same time, “Joker” makes clear that’s the wrong target.

After seeing “Joker,” I feel like I just saw a movie that people are going to be talking about for years to come. It’s a movie that can be interpreted in many ways, which is perfectly befitting of the Joker’s chaotic nature. At the same time, I knew some of those interpretations would be used in the name of an agenda and not in a good way.

In another time, “Joker” would be hailed as a movie worthy of praise on the level of “The Dark Knight.” However, because it came out at a time when people fear the lonely, deranged men more than the society that creates them, it’s not able to have the same impact. It’s still an excellent movie and one that will have a unique place in cinematic history for years to come.

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October 13, 2019 · 12:01 am

Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Pumpkin Spice Edition 2019

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It’s that time of year again. The days are getting shorter, the weather is getting colder, and the leaves are changing into a beautiful tapestry of colors. These are the traditional signs of fall and most people don’t have a problem with them. Some even celebrate them. In recent years, though, another element has become associated with this time of year, much to the chagrin of certain crowds.

I’m talking, of course, about pumpkin spice. Now, I’m not among those who whine about the presence and prevalence of all things pumpkin spice. There’s an elaborate narrative surrounding that and it’s not worth getting into. Personally, I happen to like pumpkin spice. I usually treat myself with a nice pumpkin spice latte this time of year when I feel I earned it.

It’s not the greatest latte in the world, but it still tastes great. It has a unique flavor that fits perfectly with the season. This is the time of year when pumpkins are everywhere, be they Halloween decorations or core ingredients of pies. Pumpkin spice is just another treat to celebrate this time of year.

Think what you will about it. Use it as an excuse to bash millennials and snooty coffee addicts all you want. It still tastes great and it still helps usher in a new season. It’s my hope that this round of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts inspires people to set aside the complaining about pumpkin spice and just enjoy its uniquely seasonal taste.

“To some extent, parents protecting the chastity of their daughters amounts to micromanaging their orgasms.”

“Divorce is essentially a lawsuit built around insufficient, stolen, or unsanctioned orgasms.”

“Falling in love can make for epic romance, but stumbling into it can make for heartfelt comedy.”

“Is it hypocritical that we’re so serious about caring for our genitals, but base some of our crudest humor around them?”

“Technically speaking, sexual fluids are liquid joy.”

“Getting lectured on sex by a celibate priest is like getting lessons in cyber security from the Amish.”

“The sounds we make during sex are the only true universal language.”

I don’t expect these sexy musings to convince people that pumpkin spice is inherently awesome. At the end of the day, it’s simply a special flavoring that happens to correlate perfectly with this time of year. It certainly helps that it’s delicious and it’s always easier to feel sexy when you’ve enjoyed a delicious treat.

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October 12, 2019 · 10:04 am

“Discipline And Punishment” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story that includes sex robots, a very naughty woman, and a mild dose of BDSM. I could offer some context as to what inspired this, but I have a feeling it will only distract people from taking in the true breadth of this very sexy story. Enjoy!

Amber Quinn was a bad girl. That was an inescapable fact.

She wasn’t bad in the sense that she’d snuck out at night as a teenager, smoked pot regularly, or pocketed an extra piece of candy from her grandmother’s pantry. She was bad in the most basic sense of the word.

Amber was selfish, egotistical, narcissistic, callous, and downright mean at times. She had little respect for rules, manners, and propriety. She was excessively vain, spending at least an hour every morning on her makeup. She was also exceedingly immodest, wearing only the trashiest outfits that showed off her sexy body, which was more attributed to her mother being a former model than her dedication to good physical health. One of her former teachers once told her that she had the beauty of an angel and the conscious of a demon.

That teacher might have only said that because Amber slept with her son to steal answers for an upcoming test, but that didn’t make it any less true. Being so self-absorbed and self-centered, Amber rarely passed up an opportunity to exploit her beauty and the desires of others to sleep with her.

She’d slept with a manager at a high-end clothing store to get discounts on dresses.

She gave a blowjob to a delivery boy so she could get free meals for a week.

She’d gotten a wealthy widower to fall in love with her, only to break his heart when she found out he’d lost all his money in a stock market scheme.

For most of her life, Amber was on path of selfish indulgence and utter self-destruction. She burned every bridge, alienated every friend, and squandered every opportunity to do something meaningful with her life. That ended abruptly three years ago.

It started when she attempted to blackmail a young, but wealthy investment banker by claiming he’d sexually assaulted her. She came close to getting away with it. She only got caught because she mistakenly shared her plan with her drug-dealing ex-boyfriend via text message, who ended up sharing the text messages with the cops.

“You finally paid a price for your selfishness. It should’ve come sooner. And it should’ve been much higher,” Amber often told herself.

In hindsight, it might have been the best thing that could’ve happened to her. When she got arrested, the prosecuting attorney – a woman named Lorena Jameson – decided to dig deeper into her sordid history. She compiled a comprehensive list of actions that put the breadth of her deviance into perspective. When the judge on her case saw that list, he looked at her with utter disgust.

He could’ve sent her to jail for years. She would’ve deserved it, too. However, Lorena proposed a different kind of punishment. She believed that jail would only harden her and foster more deviance. For Amber Quinn to become a respectable woman again, she needed a lesson in discipline. That was where Mike Blackwhip came in.

Who he was, what he was, and how he went about teaching her the value of discipline helped transform her from a self-absorbed asshole to a respectable, law-abiding citizen. Instead of extorting men for money, she had a good job as a paralegal at a law firm. She went from living with boyfriends/sugar daddies to having her own apartment.

However, in order for Mr. Blackwhip to carry out his court-approved role, her residence required certain accommodations. They were apparent every time Amber returned from work.

“Mr. Blackwhip, sir, I’m home,” Amber announced upon entering her apartment.

“Welcome home, Amber,” replied a voice through a small speaker in the foyer. “You’re two minutes and thirteen seconds late. Do you have a valid reason for this?”

“No, Mr. Blackwhip. I don’t. I simply lost track of time.”

“That’s an excuse. Not a reason. You know what that entails.”

“Indeed, I do.”

His voice was so strict and stern, even through a speaker. Amber rarely heard that tone from men and not just because her father had been a burned-out stoner who didn’t care for discipline. Whereas men were often intimated by her beauty and attitude, there was no intimidating Mr. Blackwhip.

With that in mind, Amber set aside her coat and purse. She could already feel Mr. Blackwhip’s gaze on her through the camera atop the monitor. She stood in front of it in the modest, professional attire that was expected for her work at a law firm. It was a far cry from the tube-tops and mini-skirts she once wore in public. It affirmed that she had come to respect Mr. Blackwhip’s rules, but that was only part of the unorthodox method that had tamed her trashy ways.

“Tardiness without excuses is not the mark of a law-biding woman. It seems I must incorporate punishment into your typical discipline,” Mr. Blackwhip said through the speaker. “Do you intend to appeal this?”

No, Mr. Blackwhip. I don’t,” Amber said, holding her head low in a gesture of humility.

“Then, proceed to the discipline room. Your weekly penance awaits you, Amber Quinn.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip.”

She spoke in such a polite, formal tone. Her younger self never would’ve recognized it. There was no attitude, ego, or coyness. The same Amber Quinn who once spat on her eight-grade math teacher for chewing gum during class now spoke with respect, humility, and obedience. It was still so jarring, but she’d come to appreciate it. Mike Blackwhip was the primary reason for that.

Like a soldier obeying a direct order, she made her way to the discipline room. That was just what Mr. Blackwhip called the second bedroom of her two-bedroom apartment. As part of the court order that kept her out of prison, she was required to stay in a two-bedroom apartment in which one of the room was converted into a unique area in which she could receive what the judge in her case called “specialized penance.”

Such a vague legal term didn’t do justice to its impact on her. There was no doubt about it. Amber never would’ve gotten anything like it in prison. She never would’ve become who she was now without it. When it began, she’d been both skeptical and reluctant. Now, every time she entered the discipline room, she did so with a sense of peace and humility.

“I’m here, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said upon walking through the door. “Please, tell me what to do next.”

“Your manners are improving. That’s promising,” replied a familiar figure sitting in the shadows, “but you still have a long way to go.”

As that harsh reminder lingered in her mind, the imposing figure rose up and turned the lights on. In doing so, Mike Blackwhip revealed himself to her. No matter how many times she saw him, she felt anxious, excited, and determined all at the same time.

What made him so imposing, however, had little to do with his stature, his voice, or the significant authority that he wielded, courtesy of a court order. Unlike any other man Amber had dealt with before, Mike Blackwhip wasn’t a normal man, prone to the same vulnerabilities as other man. He was a robot. Specifically, he was a male sex robot whose design, programming, and operations were uniquely calibrated for deviant women like her.

When he approached her, Amber couldn’t help but marvel at his form. He was tall, standing at over six-and-a-half feet in height. He had muscles that rivaled most amateur bodybuilders. From his arms to his legs to his chest, he radiated masculine power from every pore. That power extended to a large, well-shaped penis that hung between his legs. Despite having been with her share of well-endowed men, the sight Mike Blackwhip’s manhood still made her blush.

The closer he got, the more she trembled under his domineering presence. He might have been a robot, but he still had the presence of a man. His skin was very lifelike, but probably wouldn’t have fooled most people if he walked down a busy street.

However, that helped reinforce an important point, with respect to her court-ordered discipline. Mike Blackwhip wasn’t the kind of man she could easily manipulate. No amount of sex appeal or sensuality could distract him from his role. Being a robot in the body of a powerful man, he had a singular purpose and it centered around her.

“Close the door, lock it, and take off your clothes,” Mike said, his voice echoing with focused masculinity.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said obediently.

She did exactly as she was told, without attitude or complaint. She showed none of her former sass as she closed the door, leaving her alone in a room with a hulking sex robot and blacked out windows. It used to scare her. It still did on some level. However, as she came to appreciate her penance, it began to excite her.

It showed as she removed her casual business attire under Mike’s watchful eye. In the past, stripping naked was just another tool in her effort to selfishly indulge. Given her natural beauty and her willingness to use it, she could get almost any man to do her bidding. None of that worked on Mike Blackwhip. Even as she slipped off her bra and panties, he was not the least bit swayed by her fully nude form.

“Get on your knees,” Mike said firmly.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip.”

Already, Amber had exercised more submission and obedience than she had for most of her adult life. She was usually the one who told men what to do. She was usually the one in charge when clothes came off. Getting on her knees, usually to give a blowjob, was just another part of another selfish agenda.

That dynamic, which once fueled her narcissism, had been completely reversed.

“You’re getting better,” Mike told her. “You’re learning to respect authority, obey orders, and appreciate formality. That constitutes progress.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said with a respectful nod.

“But progress alone is not the goal,” the robot figure told her. “Reformation and vindication, especially for one such as you, requires extensive effort. At times, those efforts must be belabored.”

Mike Blackwhip took a step closer. He now towered over her like a titan. She looked up at him, a powerful robot surrounded by masculine flesh, in the same way a small animal looked up at a predator. There was no equality in this situation. He had the authority, literally and legally.

“Get on all fours,” he ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” she said before doing exactly as he ordered.

“Now, follow me to your punishment rack. Crawl on the dirty floor like a disobedient pet,” he told her.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip.”

Again, she complied. With submissive meekness, she crawled alongside the imposing figure until they arrived at the punishment rack, as he called it.

It wasn’t a rack as much as it was a make-shift bed, which had been modified with various bondage accessories. It included shackles on the headboard, restraints that hung from the ceiling, and ropes that connected to the sides. Right next to the setup stood two small dressers, each packed with various bondage tools.

She knew what they were and how they were used, but hadn’t been on the receiving end until recently. They used to fill her with dread. Now, Amber got aroused, thinking about how they would be used on her. Mike Blackwhip didn’t just know how to use them. His programming made him the ultimate expert.

“Get up!” he said, barking the order like a drill sergeant.

She did so without saying a word. Before she could fully return to her feet, he gave another order.

“Bend over,” he said. “Put your arms behind your back.”

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” said Amber, her voice becoming more submissive.

As soon as she complied, Mike grabbed her wrists and held them together. Then, he retrieved a pair of handcuffs from the nearby dresser and bound her with them. The sound of the ominous clicking noise reminded her of that fateful day when she got arrested. Mike Blackwhip often made it a point to remind her of that moment, but there was a reason for that.

“No matter how much progress you make, you should never forget what a deviant bitch you once were,” said Mike. “You escaped punishment for so long. It’s going to take a lot of penance to balance the scales of justice.”

Upon saying those words, he gave her butt a firm slap. The sound of a loud “thwack!” filled the room. Amber winced at the sting, but it did more than inflict pain.

Her heart raced faster.

Her mind raced as well.

Memories of her decadent past clashed with her emerging present. It created within her a potent feeling that even a former deviant could appreciate.

“You feel that?” Mike Blackwhip said as he smacked her ass again. “That is real, tangible punishment…the kind you avoided for years.”

Amber winced again as another sharp sting followed. He proceeded to spank her several more times, using increasing force with each strike. He wasn’t too hard, but he wasn’t gentle either. Being an advanced sex robot, Mike delivered just the right amount of force every time.

Soon, her butt was tender and sore. Amber kept gasping anxiously, her body and mind in a strange state of discomfort and arousal. Then, Mike retrieved a black, leather studded whip from the dresser and rubbed the tip over her tender skin. Under his imposing presence, all she could do was brace herself.

“Now, you cannot avoid punishment! Not anymore!” Mike loudly proclaimed.

He struck her butt with the whip, giving a tangible feeling to such harsh words. Amber groaned at the resulting sting, which was more intense than before. Even so, she endured it. She didn’t have a choice. Even if she did, there was no escaping the truth.

Again and again, he struck her butt with the whip. Hard leather struck vulnerable skin. Amber writhed and groaned, but didn’t dare complain. She just bit her lip and trembled at each strike, feeling that unique rush that came with receiving such punishment from Mike Blackwhip. She had spent her whole life avoiding consequences to her many misdeeds. Facing them like this, taking them in such a raw and overt way, gave her a feeling that was uniquely liberating.

“You deserve this! Say it!” Mike said in between strikes.

“I…I deserve this,” she said meekly.

“Louder! Say it louder!”

“I deserve this! I deserve this punishment!”

Saying it out loud only intensified the feeling. It was so cathartic, proclaiming out loud that she deserved to be punished and willingly accepted it. After everything she’d done, Amber didn’t just want that feeling. She needed it.

Mike Blackwhip proceeded to whip her ass several dozen times, imparting punishment and vindication with every strike. It further added to her arousal. Some of that arousal manifested between her legs. She could already feel her inner thighs becoming very moist. What had once been a manifestation of her selfish indulgence was now a part of her overdue punishment.

Her arousal didn’t go unnoticed. Being a sex robot, Mike had sensors that allowed him to detect an aroused woman, which already put him above the vast majority of the men she’d ever been with. Unlike those men, however, he did not get distracted by the prospect of a horny woman.

“I sense that you’re accepting and embracing your punishment,” Mike said. “That also constitutes progress. As such, the nature of your penance must evolve.”

He gave her butt one last swat. It was extra hard, leaving a sting that lingered.

As Amber processed that feeling, the imposing figure undid her handcuffs, grabbed her by the shoulder, and turned her around. Once again, she faced him and his domineering authority. It was the first authority she’d come to respect and not just because of a court order.

“Get on the bed, lie on your back, and hold your arms out,” Mike Blackwhip ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” she said, her arousal showing in her voice.

She complied with greater urgency, crawling up on the bed and lying down on her back. She didn’t care that her butt still stung and her inner thighs were hot with arousal. This powerful authority figure gave her an order. Having gained a unique respect for authority, abiding by that authority only intensified that arousal.

“Following the rules and those who enforce them aren’t always appealing,” he said as he walked around to the other side of the bed. “Most don’t need to learn that lesson the hard. Some insist on making it even harder. You, Amber Quinn, learned it many times and still avoided it. For you to follow the basic rules of society, enforces of those rules must get elaborate.”

He’d given that speech before. Amber heard it every time she endured her this elaborate form of penance. It was meant to reinforce just how much a deviant she had been and how challenging it was to change her perspective.

Mike Blackwhip let those words echo in her mind as he proceeded with the next phase of her penance. He started by taking each wrist and bounding it with a special restraint that was attached to the side of the bed. Her arms now immobile, he retrieved a couple of nipple rings from the drawer and fastened them to her nipples, which created a fresh source of discomfort.

“Ungh!” Amber groaned.

“Silence!” he barked. “You’ve no one to blame for this recourse but yourself.”

Before she could protest any further, Mike grabbed a ball gag from the table, shoved it into her mouth, and locked it. Now, she was both restrained and silenced. It was a position that had been alien to her until recently. It was also a position that made use of the discipline room’s most effective tool.

On the ceiling above the punishment rack was a mirror. In it, she saw her naked body on the rack, completely at the mercy of a powerful figure armed with both robot strength and legal power. It allowed her to see herself in this bound, submissive form. She could watch herself get dominated and disciplined in all the ways she once avoided. It created a powerful visual that she couldn’t avoid, nor did she want to.

“To appreciate discipline, you must also appreciate penance,” he said to her. “To appreciate penance, you must also have incentive…one that can be both painful and pleasurable.”

Her arousal was so great that Amber could barely keep her legs still. She watched with growing anticipation, her breath muffled by the ball gag. Mike Blackwhip got up on the bed and pushed her legs apart, casting a shadow over her that made her feel like an insect. In doing so, his dick went from completely flaccid to completely erect in just a few seconds.

It was another distinct tool that allowed Mike to exercise his authority. Being a sex robot, he was not bound by the physical limitations of men. The court liaison who’d introduced her to Mike Blackwhip told her that his genitals had been designed and configured with control in mind. He could be as hard as he wanted for as long as he wanted. That meant she couldn’t depend her discipline ending prematurely.

Having exploited and belittled the frailties of male sexual function in the past, it was almost poetic. Hovering over her was a man who would never become tired, overwhelmed, or impotent. She could never dominate him, even at her most deviant. She could only ever be dominated by her. He knew that because that was how he was programmed.

Another part of that programming was, according to another court liaison, to derive his own unique pleasure from carrying out her penance.

“Look up at yourself,” Mike said as he held her legs apart. “Watch as I impose my discipline. Watch as you accept your punishment.”

Amber replied with a light muffle before turning her attention to the mirror on the ceiling. From there, she watched the domineering spectacle unfold.

Mike, keeping a firm grip on her legs, aligned his throbbing cock with the moist opening to her pussy. She watched in her reflection as he drove his hips forward and entered her, his hulking male flesh filling her inner depths. He was not careful or reluctant. This wasn’t her indulging in pleasures of the flesh. This was part of her penance. That didn’t make it feel any less intense.

“Mmff!” she moaned, the ball gag muting her gasps.

It was happening again. Bound, gagged, and naked, she was in a state of total submission. She – Amber Quinn, the unapologetic whore who once extorted pediatrician for pain pills to sell – was being dominated and fucked. As someone whose ego once required that she always be in control, both the imagery and the sensations had a profound impact.

The sights, sounds, and sensations converged in that moment. With his member now inside her, Mike began moving his hips. Like a well-oiled machine – which he was, to some extent – he pumped his manhood within her depths. As always, he penetrated deep. He left no nerve unstimulated. It was like his penis had been crafted specifically to fuck her, which was probably close to the truth.

The spectacle of his muscular, manly body humping her bound form unfolded in the mirror above her. The pain from the spankings and the nipple clamps mixed with the pleasure of sex. The lines between the two quickly blurred. From that blend of conflicting sensations, a unique feeling emerged.

“This is your penance, Amber Quinn. This is how you repay your lofty debts,” Mike said in his booming voice. “Take this punishment! Take this discipline! Take it all!”

More muffled moans followed, but Amber never looked away from her submissive reflection. She had to see it play out. Like a living memory, it gave weight and substance to the experience.

Pain imparted punishment. Pleasure imparted affirmation. There was merit to following the rules, exercising discipline, and eschewing pure selfishness. Mike Blackwhip turned that profound concept into a special kind of penance. She felt it, watched it, and embraced it. Doing so didn’t just help atone for her many misdeeds. It helped make her a better person.

As the punishment and discipline played out, Mike intensified the pace of their sex. He was hard and fast with every thrust, fucking her with a fervor that few men could sustain. He took full advantage of being a sex robot, dominating her as much as he ravaged her. It kept that blend of pain and pleasure flowing, so much so that Amber couldn’t tell whether she was close to climaxing. She only realized it as she neared the final threshold.

“Mmmfff!” she moaned loudly as the feeling approach.

“Yes! That’s it, Amber Quinn!” Mike shouted. “Feel it! Remember it! Accept it!”

He slowed his thrusting, delivering one last round of targeted movements. They were intended specifically to make her climax, even as other parts of her body remained tender with pain. It was a difficult feat, even for a sex robot. Like he had many times before, Mike succeeded.

When she came, Amber bend her knees back, curled her toes, and watched herself writhe in the mirror. The intensity of the pleasure complement the lingering pain, as if to create a feeling of complete and utter balance. Even at her most deviant, through all the sex she had and the drugs she took, she’d never experienced such a feeling.

As her body trembled, Mike withdrew his cock from her, unlocked her wrists, and removed the ball gag. As she panted heavily from the orgasmic feeling, he cupped her chin with his powerful hand and looked her directly in the eye.

“Your penance is done for the day,” he told her, “but the process is ongoing. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t, Mr. Blackwhip,” she replied. “I promise.”

Amber smiled at the imposing figure and he smiled back. Even a sex robot understood the importance of what he’d just done with her. The sensations created a feeling and the feeling created an experience in which punishment became desirable and discipline became appealing. For a reformed deviant like her, Amber couldn’t imagine of a more effective penance.

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October 11, 2019 · 5:59 am

Daily Sexy Musing: Sensitive Spots (Of All Kinds)

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We all have sensitive spots, literally and figuratively. There parts of our bodies or certain subjects that evoke a powerful reaction at the slightest stimulation. It’s not the same as being ticklish. That’s another form of sensitivity that has its own sexy connotations. The sensitive spots I’m referring to are more personal.

To love someone and be intimate wit them, you have to know their most sensitive spots to some extent. I’m not just referring to the sexy spots, although those certainly come into play. Some people respond to being touched a certain way. Others respond to certain words or gestures. It’s often subtle, but it can have a profound impact.

I once knew a guy who just loved having his girlfriend stroke his beard. I don’t know why it was such a big deal for him, but his girlfriend knew how much she loved it and they knew how to make use of it. They were a fun couple. They knew where those sensitive spots were and what to do with them.

Finding those spots usually requires more than just basic chemistry. You know your romance is getting serious when you start picking up on these kinds of subtleties. I hope this Daily Sexy Musing can make you more aware of it, if you aren’t already. Enjoy!

I know your weaknesses. With mere words, I can hit where few know to aim and strike a chord that few know is there. Through a targeted touch, I can do even more. Like a map full of shortcuts and secret routes, I’m able to make my mark and render you completely vulnerable.

At the same time, you know my weaknesses as well.

Sometimes, you don’t even need words. A simple glance is all it takes. In a moment of silence, you’re able to hit me in a way that feels like a tidal wave to the heart. It can be painful, but it’s also sobering. Being around you, I’m just as vulnerable. At the same time, the bond we share is strengthened.

We know the cracks in our armor.

We know the wounds on our egos.

We know the blind spots in our perceptions.

We know the flaws in our persona.

Having such insights grants us power, but how we use it grants us even more. What we do with our words can break us down, but what we do with our hands, lips, and bodies is just as powerful. Anyone can caress us. Only you and I know how to caress the right spots.

I touch the places you love to be touched.

You say the things I love hearing you say.

We make every gesture count, knowing where and how to convey our love.

The end result is profound. Our individual flaws become our collective strength. What might otherwise bring us distress can bring us ecstasy.

We took a chance. That chance became trust. That trust became insight. With it, we make each other cry out in delight. The most sensitive parts of our bodies and souls become the lock and key to our love.

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October 10, 2019 · 5:54 am

John Oliver, Sex Dolls, And The (Unwarranted) Shaming Of Lonely Men

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There’s a general rule in comedy with respect to insults. If you’re going to demean, denigrate, or make fun of a particular person or group, you don’t want to punch down. Granted, you can do it. You can even get a few laughs out of it if you do it well and are exceptionally funny. However, in the grand scheme of things, you’re still an asshole.

It’s the main reason why comedians, be they stand-up comics or talk show hosts, generally direct their insults at the rich, powerful, and privileged. There’s a general understanding that if you’re doing well in this chaotic game of life, either through luck or talent, you can afford to take a few insults. At the end of the day, you can still go home and cry into a pile of money, fame, and affluence.

When you insult a group that has none of those things in any abundance, it’s usually not something people respect, even if they laugh. It’s why even great comedians like George Carlin had to be very careful and exceptionally skilled when he joked about rape.

We miss you, George. We miss you SO much.

Unfortunately, not everyone can be as funny or talented as George Carlin. Sometimes, insult comedy hits an undeserving target. It tends to reveal something about the comedian delivering the insult and where society is, in terms of sympathies. It’s often subtle, but the subtext is there and it has larger implications.

That brings me to John Oliver, the nerdy smart-ass British comedian who owes 95 percent of his fame to John Stewart. His show, “Last Week Tonight,” has won multiple Emmy awards and has garnered substantial praise for its colorful approach to tackling major issues, from the abortion debate to annoying robocalls to the flaws in standardized testing.

While I don’t agree with Mr. Oliver’s politics all the time or his approach to tackling certain issues, I consider myself a fan of his show. Compared to other satirical comedy shows, he tends to strike just the right balance between quality comedy and tackling serious issues.

However, he recently took a comedic jab that deviated from his usual style and not in a good way. It occurred during his episode that focused on China’s controversial One Child Policy. It’s an issue that has been subject to plenty of controversy for years and I think Mr. Oliver was right to talk about it.

One of the major consequences of this policy, which Mr. Oliver rightly pointed out, was how it led to a massive gender population imbalance. Due to a historic preference for sons, there are millions more men than women in China. The disparity is so great that it has caused major social upheavals.

While discussing some of those upheavals, the issue of sex dolls came up. In a country where there are so many lonely men, it makes sense that they would seek some form of outlet and it helps that the market of sex dolls is growing. This is where Mr. Oliver did a little punching down and, unlike his jabs at New Zealand, this didn’t have the same impact. See for yourself in this clip.

Take a moment to consider what he’s joking about here. There are millions of men in China who, through no fault of their own, are likely doomed to a life of loneliness. It’s not because they’re bad men. They’re not creepy, cruel, or misogynistic. They’re just at the mercy of math and demographics. There simply aren’t enough women in their country.

For these men, the old saying that there’s plenty of fish in the sea is an outright lie. Their options are limited and Mr. Oliver is making light of that. He essentially claims that men who use sex dolls are somehow even more pathetic and destined for more loneliness. He makes that claim as someone who is married, has a child, and doesn’t have to deal with those prospects.

It’s not just bad comedy. It’s hypocritical. Earlier in that same clip, he showed sympathy and understanding to a Chinese woman who was forced to have an abortion against her will. He’s shown similar sympathy to people in other situations, from women dealing with restrictive abortion laws to prisoners who had been screwed over by an unfair justice system.

Why would he show no sympathy for these lonely men?

Moreover, why would he make a joke about it?

To some extent, it’s not all on him. There is an egregious double standard when it comes to men who use sex toys. A woman can walk into a sex shop, buy a vibrator, and talk about using it without too much stigma. Sure, there will be a few repressive, sex-negative religious zealots who will complain about anything that gives anyone unsanctioned pleasure, but most people don’t take them seriously.

For men, however, there’s a taboo surrounding the use of sex toys in any capacity. Some of that comes from men more than women. There’s this not-so-subtle assumption that a man who needs a sex toy is somehow less manly. Any man who has to resort to one must be somehow deficient. It can’t just be that he’s lonely or wants to use new tools to please his lover. That would make too much sense.

For the men in China, and other areas where there’s a huge gender disparity, the situation is even worse. These are men who are facing both loneliness and sexual frustration. There’s more than a little evidence that this is not healthy for them on any level. That’s not to say that sex dolls or sex toys will help fill that void, but it will give them an outlet, just as a vibrator gives a lonely woman an outlet.

Unlike a lonely woman, though, these men can’t expect much sympathy. As Mr. Oliver demonstrates, they can expect plenty of shame and stigma. It doesn’t matter that they can’t do anything about their situation. They’re victims of circumstance, demographics, and basic math. Adding stigma and taboo to the mix is akin to kicking them in the balls on the worst day of their lives.

I won’t say that Mr. Oliver should apologize for his remark. He’s a comedian. He’s a citizen in a free country. He can say what he wants. However, the fact that he can joke about lonely men and still get a laugh says a lot about the current attitudes towards lonely men, in general.

We know they’re suffering. We know there’s not much they can do about it, especially in places like China. While we’ll give plenty of sympathy to the lonely women who resort to using sex toys, we’ll stick to shaming and stigmatizing the men who dare to do the same. Then, we’ll pretend to be surprised when they get angry and resentful.

Is that fair? No, it isn’t.

Is that funny? No, I argue that it’s not, especially with the way Mr. Oliver went about it.

He’s no George Carlin. He’s no John Stewart, either. In this particular case, he’s just an asshole.

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October 9, 2019 · 6:04 am

Jack Fisher’s Weekly Quick Pick Comic: Powers of X #6

When assessing the greatness of a particular story arc in comics, there are many factors to consider. There’s the quality of the writing, the strength of the characterization, the cohesiveness of the plot, the vibrancy of the artwork, and how it all fits together in terms of the greater narrative. Many comics succeed in some of these areas and are worth reading. Very few manage to succeed in most.

I usually try to avoid spoiling too much of a great story, but I will spoil one thing. “Powers of X #6,” and the overall story arc it capped off, is among those select few. In the history of X-Men comics, Marvel Comics, and superhero comics in general, this is one of those stories that will likely stand out as an example of what’s possible when all the right story elements are in place.

Writer Jonathan Hickman has always been someone with big ideas who builds even bigger stories around them. He starts with a concept. Then, he positions the characters around it in such a way that requires them to evolve in ways that they’ve never dared. From there, the story only gets bigger in terms of scope, scale, and impact.

He did it with the Avengers. He did it with the Fantastic Four. Now, he’s done it again with the X-Men. As a lifelong X-Men fan, who has seen some pretty awful runs and some exceedingly dark times, I cannot overstate how refreshing this story is. I honestly cannot think of a time when an X-Men story arc felt so meaningful and relevant.

I’ve highlighted and praised various issues of House of X and Powers of X before, but “Powers of X #6” faces a unique challenge that many story arcs fail to overcome. It can’t just end the story on a particular note. It has to fill in some lingering plot holes while leaving just enough unfilled for future stories to build on. It’s a difficult balance to strike and one past X-Men story arcs have come up short.

That balance never falters in “Powers of X #6.” It fills in a few key plot holes, most notably the events of Moira MacTaggart’s mysterious sixth life. At the core of this story, and everything that stems from it, is the impact of Moira MacTaggart. It’s not hyperbole to state that she is now the most important character in the X-Men mythos.

Her role doesn’t just involve revealing what worked and didn’t work in terms of mutants trying to survive in a world that hates and fears them. In “Powers of X #6,” she witnesses the ultimate endgame for the human/mutant conflict. She sees the inevitable result of this conflict, regardless of which side she takes.

It doesn’t matter if someone sides with Magneto.

It doesn’t matter if someone sides with Professor Charles Xavier.

It doesn’t even matter if someone swears allegiance to Apocalypse and fights by his side.

The events in “Powers of X #6” establish that none of these conflicting groups, who have been clashing in X-Men comics since the Kennedy Administration, will be vindicated in the long run. Ultimately, they will be defeated, but not by the forces they think.

It’s a point that Hickman makes clearly by building on key moments established in past issues of Powers of X and House of X. Within these moments, harsh truths are dropped and fateful choices are made. They help give the achievements that played out in “House of X #6” even more weight. They also establish the stakes the X-men, and the entire mutant race in general, face moving forward.

These are powerful moments that impact the past, present, and future of the X-Men. Through Moira, the greatest threats facing mutants takes a very different form. It’s not a menacing new Sentinel. It’s not some mutant tyrant, either. It’s not even some bigoted human who thinks interment camps are still a good idea. I won’t spoil the particulars, but c makes clear that the X-Men have an uphill battle.

That’s saying a lot, considering the mutant race is more united than it has ever been. They have a home in Krakoa. Teammates who have been dead or missing for many years are back. They have valuable resources that the world wants. They’ve even won over their greatest enemies, like Apocalypse.

However, even with Moira’s foresight, that still might not be enough.

It might be the greatest achievement of “Powers of X #6.” It is an ending to a bold new beginning for the X-Men, but it also redefines the challenges they face. Through Hickman’s skilled world-building and artist R. B. Silva’s brilliant renderings, it genuinely feels like a true paradigm shift for X-Men comics.

They’re still mutants. They’re still the same superheroes they’ve always been. Their goals haven’t fundamentally changed that much. What has changed are the stakes, the forces opposing them, and their approach to dealing with them. It feels both hopeful and dire at the same time.

Whereas “House of X #6” establishes the promise of a brighter future for mutants, “Powers of X #6” reveals the ultimate barrier to that future. It’s not something they can shoot, blast, stab, or punch. If they want to succeed, then they have to fundamentally change how they go about Charles Xavier’s dream. Moreover, the dream itself needs to evolve.

Years from now, X-Men fans will likely look back on “Powers of X #6” as a defining moment for a narrative that has been unfolding for over 50 years. Those moments are few, far between, and precious. This one in particular may go down as one of the most uncanny.

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