Daily Sexy Musing: Bad Days Made Good

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We all have bad days. They’re part of life. Even if you’re a rich supermodel living in a mansion with servants and maids, you’re going to have one of those days where everything seems to go wrong. You feel like crap, you can’t get anything done, and you just want to punch something to vent your frustration.

I’ve certainly had days like that and not all of them occurred in high school, although they did seem to happen more often back then. The hardest part is getting through those days, but the second hardest could be turning them around. That’s where having a good lover comes in. I would even argue that it’s the bad days that help reveal just how good a lover you have.

Back in college, I had a string of awful days that made me want to bang my head against the wall every other minute. Then, towards the end when I was ready to give up, I had a quick chat with my girlfriend at the time. I won’t reveal what she said or how she said it. I’ll just say that she made me smile in a way that helped me forget the past few days.

That kind of love and support is powerful. We don’t always appreciate it until we have a few bad days, but that’s exactly why it’s so critical. A good lover can’t always turn a bad day into a good day, but they can make it feel less agonizing and not just by doing something sexy.

It’s a given that we will all have bad days at some point. There’s only so much we can do to prepare, but it’ll usually be our lovers that help make those days worth enduring. This Daily Sexy Musing is a testament to just how great a day we can have when our lover is there for us at our worst moments. Enjoy!

I’m angry.

I’m depressed.

I’m tired.

I’m drained of everything that’s supposed to make life enjoyable.

Thoughts and feelings of misery and frustration follow me with every step. It’s an open wound, festering every second of every minute. I’ve given up seeking relief. I just want to run away, hide, and shut down. If the world won’t leave me alone, I’ll gladly leave it behind.

However, you won’t let me. You love me too damn much.

Before I can venture into the nearest personal pit, you confront me. At first, I see an obstacle. Then, you remind me that you’re so much more. You’re someone who cares when I’m sad. What I feel, you feel as well. We gladly share in the joys and elation we give one another. It’s only when hardship finds us that we realize just how deep our love goes.

I don’t want you to know that feeling. Distraught or not, the last thing I want to do is heap that pain upon you. You don’t deserve it and I’ve no desire to put it upon you. Even so, you don’t let me bear that burden on my own.

You come to me.

You embrace me.

You soothe me with your loving touch.

We spend so much time and energy avoiding the things that make us unhappy. Like darkness and distress, it naturally repulses us. To willingly approach such unpleasant things requires something greater than bravery. In you, I don’t just see it. I feel it in your caring warmth.

Our love tempers the burning rage.

Our love heals the gaping wounds.

Our love calms the restless mind.

Together, we venture into the worst domains of our souls. In those dark corners, our deepest flaws show alongside our greatest weaknesses. From these depths, we emerge with stronger hearts and brighter spirits.

In that feeling, I can say without hesitation that today was a good day.

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“Up Against The Wall” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story inspired by an incident involving a former roommate of mine and a significant dent in a wall that required an awkward conversation with the landlord. Once you read the story, you’ll understand why. Enjoy!

“So long, first apartment. I’ll miss you,” said Tyler Avery in a distant, but resigned tone.

“Technically, it’s a dorm room, Ty,” said Lindsey Bailey, his bemused girlfriend of the past two years.

“Call it whatever you want. It’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

“Despite the moldy showers and lousy heating?”

Especially because of the moldy showers and lousy heating.”

It might have been a strange sentiment to have, holding an undersized and unremarkable apartment in such high regard. Tyler certainly didn’t blame his girlfriend for being eager to move out the day after they graduated college. However, he couldn’t help but have some personal attachment to his first ever home away from home.

“This is where I finally grew into who I wanted to be,” Tyler said to himself. “I got to reinvent myself within these walls. I became someone I could never have been anywhere else.”

Walking through the now-empty dwelling, running his fingers along the cold white walls, Tyler recalled the man he’d been the day he first arrived as an overwhelmed freshman. He came from a small town where the idea of going to college was more a daydream than a realistic goal. The only reason he’d been able to attend was because he got a baseball scholarship. While that made him the envy of many back home, he was not the least bit prepared for what and who he would find.

Growing up, he had little say in his living situation. He’d grown up in a small house with three siblings. They shared a bedroom, a bathroom, and pretty much everything else. Nobody could ever claim that a particular space was their own. There just wasn’t enough of it to go around. Even his first baseball glove had previously belonged to his father. The idea of actually having a place to call his own seemed so radical at first.

Then, he arrived on campus and moved into his first place, a dorm building that catered specifically to student athletes. It was such a strange experience, living by himself after living with his family for so long. He remembered nights being so eerily quiet, so much so that he couldn’t sleep. It left him alone with his thoughts for hours on end, contemplating things he’d never thought about before.

In doing so, Tyler learned something about himself. The first thing he learned was that he needed to become his own person. The second was that he didn’t like living alone. That ultimately played a major role in how Lindsey entered his life.

“Remember the first night I invited you here?” Tyler pondered as he walked around the empty living room.

“Of course I do,” Lindsey said with a coy grin. “You tried to sound so confident, but failed in the most adorable way possible.”

“That’s because I was nowhere near as confident as my batting average, as the time,” he said. “I was still on my own, learning how to live my own life and make my own choices. Where I come from, you don’t get those kinds of choices.”

“It probably helped that you were a handsome young athlete,” she said, still standing in the foyer. “Guess that makes me lucky because you chose to share your life with me.”

“It wasn’t luck from my perspective. Being here, a star athlete on scholarship with his own place, I had a lot of choices thrown at me…including some very bad ones that could’ve taken me down a very nasty path.”

“You referring to that guy who tried to sell you Adderall your sophomore year? Or the cheerleader who offered to suck your dick for every home run you hit?”

“Among many others,” Tyler said, shaking his head in amazement at some of the choices he’d avoided. “You were the first I dared to let in…not just in terms of seeing my first place, but personally as well. I brought you here at a time when I knew I didn’t want to be alone, but I also knew I didn’t want to make the wrong choice.”

“And I’m glad I chose to go with you,” Lindsey said in a more serious tone, “and not just because this place was a step up from my dorm. I knew when I saw you that you were a good, but conflicted soul…the kind of soul you don’t expect to find in some hotshot athlete.”

“You think I’m a hotshot?” Tyler said with a snicker.

“No, I think you’re much more than that.”

Tyler smiled as he stood in the far corner of the living room, just next to the window that overlooked the campus courtyard. Lindsey walked over and joined him, standing next to him and pulling him into a light embrace. He welcomed the feeling. It also helped him recall just how much his life changed after he met her.

A lot of that change took place within the barren walls that now surrounded him. While Lindsey wasn’t the first girlfriend he’d ever had, she’d been the most impactful, by far. Unlike him, she’d come from a less isolated part of the state, having grown up in a less cramped household in which she had her own room, her own stuff, and her own place to grow. Being with her, even before he fell in love with her, taught him a lot about forging his own path.

Their romance did not happen all at once. In fact, she’d been dating someone else when they first met. Growing closer to her made getting together an easy transition, albeit one that got passionate very quickly. It made lonely nights less lonely and helped him envision life beyond simply escaping his isolated home town.

Then, there were all the intimate moments they’d shared together. Looking around, Tyler could point out all the places and circumstances in which they’d made love. Those were among his most cherished memories. Leaving them behind, despite knowing a better apartment awaited him and Lindsey, was bittersweet.

“You always were the sentimental type,” Lindsey told him. “It’s just one of the many things I love about you.”

“Thanks,” he said, giving her waist an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve always helped me keep things in perspective, Lindsey. You help me keep my feet on the ground, my ego in check, and my heart beating strong.”

“You don’t always make it easy on me, but you’ve always made it worth the effort.”

“And I want to keep doing that. I want to move forward in my life…a life I want to share with you.”

“Damn it, Tyler. Now you’re making me sentimental for this place too,” she said.

“Why shouldn’t it be? This was, after all, the place in which I chose to share my life with someone. For the first time, in a space I could call me own, I opened my heart and my front door to someone. I had no idea what to expect…whether I was making a mistake or setting myself up for heartache. In the end, that choice and this place gave me something precious…something I’ll always treasure, no matter where we live from here on out.”

Tyler hadn’t expected to get so emotional while standing in an empty apartment. Now, Lindsey was getting worked up too, burying her face in his shoulders to hide any tears she might have shed. She never hid them very well, but that didn’t stop Tyler from holding her close, resting his chin on her shoulder and reflecting on their looming future.

“I want to share that life too,” Lindsey told him. “I’m not used to thinking beyond my next class, my next job, or even my next rent payment, but I want to entertain the possibilities, damn it!”

“Glad I could affect your thinking as much as you affected mine,” said Tylor with loving grin.

“And to think, it all started here…in this unremarkable dorm with sub-par plumbing.”

“I know. Amazing, isn’t it?”

They shared a good laugh, their shared appreciation of his first apartment growing with every fond memory. Knowing their things were packed and a long drive to their new home awaited them, added more weight to those memories. While he looked forward to making new memories with Lindsey in another home, he intended to cherish the ones he’d made with her thus far.

Together, they lingered near the corner of the empty living room. He kept embracing Lindsey for as long as she needed. She didn’t often get emotional, but when she did, she often needed a little extra intimacy and Tyler was more than happy to provide it. After all, the intimacy they’d shared within the surrounding walls helped forge the intimate connection they now cherished.

Then, when it seemed the emotional venting had passed, Lindsey snaked her arms around his neck and locked her gaze with his. In the process, he saw her eyes take on a new intensity.

“Tyler,” she said to him.

“Yes, Lindsey?” he asked.

“Do me,” she said intently.

Tyler blinked a few times in astonishment, not certain of what he’d just heard. However, the look in her eyes indicated that she was dead serious.

“Right here…in this room…up against the wall,” she said, each word echoing with seductive subtext. “Do me!”

“Is this your idea of making one last fond memory of this place?” Tyler asked her.

“Can it just be because I really love you and I’m really horny right now?”

“Either way works for me!”

With a loving grin and renewed energy, Tyler kissed his wonderful girlfriend on the lips and deepened their intimate embrace. He didn’t bother trying to surmise what inspired her to want sex in an empty apartment. If making love to her was to be their last act within such familiar walls, then Tyler was more than happy to make the most of it.

Their lips entwined and their hands eagerly roaming, Tyler led his lover up against the wall just next to the window. It was somewhat dirty, but that didn’t dissuade Lindsey in the slightest. She still jumped up into his arms, threw her legs around her waist, and began pulling at his shirt.

“Off! Get it off!” she urged.

Tyler gladly obliged, shifting his torso so that she could pull his shirt up off over his head. He returned the favor by taking her shirt off too. She didn’t even mind when he threw it across the room. Their clothes were already dusty and dirty from moving their stuff out into the truck. Getting out of them for a while had more appeal than usual.

“You worked up quite a sweat,” Lindsey commented upon feeling his bare chest.

“I did,” he admitted. “Care to help me work up another?”

She answered by kissing him again and pawing his chest, further stoking his. Since the air conditioner had been turned off, they had even more incentive to get undressed.

Lindsey got out ahead of him, pushing her bra-straps to the side of her shoulders before slipping it off with ease. While Tyler quickly refocused his attention on her exposed breasts, she released her grip on him with her legs so that she could remove her pants. Before he knew it, she was down to a pair of white panties.

“Your turn,” she whispered into his ear seductively.

Before he had a chance to really enjoy her breasts, Lindsey dropped to her knees and undid his belt buckle. As soon as he was unlocked, she pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, freeing his rapidly-growing manhood from its confines. Before he even stepped out of his sneakers, she grasped his hardened member with both hands.

“Right here, next to this window, is where I gave you your first blowjob,” she told him while stroking his shaft. “We were on the couch, watching the World Series.”

“I remember. God, I remember so well,” Tyler said, already breathless.

“I’ll make sure you remember this too.”

Always a woman of her word, Lyndsey put her oral sex skills to good use. She once bragged she could suck a dick as well as he could hit an inside fastball. At the time, it was a hell of a claim, but she once again proved herself.

With perfect blend of passion and lust, she sucked along his masculine flesh, her soft lips and slithering tongue stimulating every nerve. Tyler had to lean against the nearby wall just to stay upright, moaning intently as she drew him into a state of complete arousal.

“Damn, that feels good!” he gasped. “Almost as good as when we did it in the kitchen…up against the fridge.”

“Mmm…almost?” Lindsey said, briefly gazing up from his lower body.

“Just giving us a reason to make this time really count.”

“And it’s a damn good reason.”

Still flexing her intimate skills, Lindsey gave his shaft one last lick before rising back up to her feet. From there, Tyler took charge. She’d given him so many wonderful experiences in the apartment. He was determined to give her something extra special.

“Up against the wall,” he said in a deep, manly tone.

She looked back at him with a captivated glance, as though he’d just triggered the most intense arousal she’d ever experienced. Lindsey once told him that her biggest turn-on was a man who seized initiative during sex. Being an athlete and a competitor, Tyler was in a better position than most to get her feminine juices flowing.

Grabbing her waist with his powerful arms, he turned his half-naked girlfriend around so that she was up against the wall, just as he’d said. From there, he grasped the sides of her panties and pulled them off, rendering her fully naked and giving him a perfect view of her heart-shaped butt.

True to her kinks, she was very wet. He could feel the heat radiating from her inner thighs, longing for his loving touch. Never one to deny his lover, he positioned himself behind her and aligned his body with hers.

“One last time…in this apartment…together,” Tyler said intently.

“Together,” Lindsey repeated.

In a single thrust, he entered her, his rigid member penetrating her moist depths. They each let out a passionate gasp as her inner muscles tightened around his flesh, entwining their bodies and evoking a surge of intimate sensations.

After taking in that hot, sensual feeling, the aspiring athlete tightened his grip on her waist and began moving his hips in a rhythmic manner. Like two missing souls finding one another, their fleshly union inspired a harmonious dance of sorts. In a symphony of intimate gasps, Lindsey raked her nails down barren wall while he rocked her world with every motion. In between the grunts and moans, he leaned forward and whispered affectionate musings into his ear.

“Here…we fell in love,” he told her. “Here…we made it real.”

Lindsey let out an especially vocal gasp, turning her head and kissing his lips as their naked bodies moved in a heated vigor. In the empty apartment, the echoes were louder. The sounds of their flesh banging together filled the area with a unique ambience, as if the apartment were cheering them on for one last intimate romp.

Never one to disappoint a cheering crowd, Tyler stepped up his passionate efforts. He made love to Lindsey with greater fervor and focus, pressing her body against the wall even more, her breasts mashing up against the cold surface. As the sensations flowed through them, escalating with each successive motion of passion, it affirmed the memories they’d shared in the apartment. It also reminded Tyler why he fell in love with her.

“Lindsey…so much,” he gasped, “love you…so much.”

“Oohhh Tyler! I love you too!” she exclaimed. “Please…take me.”

Once again heeding her amorous cries, Tyler used his leverage over her to reorient their bodies. In a perfect coordination of passion, he briefly withdrew from her depths, turned her around, and pinned her up against the wall like he had done earlier before their clothes came off. Just like before, his lover jumped his bone, throwing her legs around his waist. His hands now firmly on her hips, he lowered her back onto his dick and resumed their heated lovemaking.

Now facing his love, seeing the affection and ecstasy in her eyes, he caressed her face while she clung to his shoulders. With their bodies still moving at a fervent pace, their bodies grinding up and down the wall, he kissed her as he made a concerted push for greater ecstasy. The loud echoes, combined with so many fond memories, helped raise the stakes. It wasn’t just about having a good hump with his girlfriend. It was a celebration of how far they’d come.

“Lindsey…I’m close,” he told her.

“Me too, Tyler. Me too!” she gasped.

Having come to know his lover’s intimate proclivities, he did what he needed to do to carry her to the brink. When she was close, she liked it slow and thorough so that his manhood penetrated extra deep into her depths. All the lovemaking they’d done in the apartment had made him adept at bringing Lindsey to orgasm. Taking her to that special threshold one last time within such a special place was extra satisfying.

“Oohhh yes!” Lindsey cried out upon reaching that plateau.

At that moment, he used the leverage afforded by the wall to fully support her, watching in awe as her expression contorted to the ecstasy that followed. It was a beautiful sight, seeing the woman he loved consumed with such bliss, feeling her body shudder under the weight of the pleasure.

As he admired such beauty, he let that same weight overtake him as well. With a few more targeted thrusts, he crossed that special threshold as well, achieving a powerful release that send hot ripples of pleasure coursing through his body. The echoes in the empty apartment all seemed to converge around them, as if to cap off the life they’d build together within such sturdy walls.

“We did it, Lindsey. We did it,” he said breathlessly.

“Yes…we did,” she said through her orgasmic daze.

He wasn’t sure if she was referring to their sex or to how far their love had come. It really didn’t matter at that point. As their naked bodies radiated in the afterglow of shared euphoria, he withdrew his flesh from her and captured her lips in another loving kiss. She remained against the wall, their naked bodies glistening with sweat in the midday sun.

They had officially left their mark. Between the sweat that now clung to the walls and the smell of their sex permeating the empty apartment, it was safe to say that they had forged one last fond memory in his first true home.

“I’m going to miss this place even more, now,” Tyler said to her.

“I am too…carpet stains and all,” Lindsey said.

“We’ll make our new place even better,” he said confidently, “hopefully, with fewer stains and plumbing problems.”

“I can’t wait,” his love said with a beaming smile, “but before we unpack our things, let’s make sure the walls are just as sturdy!”

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Jack Fisher’s Weekly Quick Pick Comic: Spider-Man Life Story #1

Every week, the world gets a brief reprieve from being a chaotic mess when a fresh crop of comics enters the world. Most call it Wednesday. Others, like myself, call it New Comic Day. It’s like a weekly holiday, minus the decorations, gift giving, and crowded airports. On this unique day, I pick one particular comic to single out as worthy of making this day feel extra festive.

This week brings us a special gem from everyone’s third favorite friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, after Spider-Ham and Spider-Gwen. It comes courtesy of one of Marvel’s top scribes in Chip Zdarsky and one of their top artists in Mark Bagley. While there has always been an abundance of Spider-Man comics, “Spider-Man: Life Story #1” stands out in a uniquely charming way.

For much of Spider-Man’s contemporary history, there has been an ongoing challenge, of sorts, when it comes to keeping him relevant. Writers, artists, and movie producers keep having to update Spider-Man’s story, somewhat, so that he feels modern. That’s not easy for a character who first debuted in 1962, courtesy of Stan Lee and Steve Ditko.

Over the years, Peter Parker has found himself reinvented into many eras, from disco to social media. Marvel has always been somewhat coy about how characters like Spider-Man can show up in these eras and not seem to age, but that’s exactly what makes “Spider-Man: Life Story #1” so unique.

It doesn’t try to put Peter Parker in a more modern context. It doesn’t try to radically change who he is so that he fits into a more familiar world. Instead, Zdarsky and Bagley do the complete opposite and just let his story unfold within the era that first created him.

There’s no sliding timescale here. The year is 1966. Peter has had his Spider-Man powers for four years. He’s in college, the Vietnam War is ongoing, hippies are starting to grow in population, and cigarette’s are still advertised for their health benefits. This is the world in which Spider-Man was initially birthed and this is the world in which his story unfolds.

It’s a familiar story, one that frequently relies on Peter trying to balance his life as a college student with his superhero life as Spider-Man. However, that familiarity is exactly what helps “Spider-Man: Life Story #1” work so well as a concept and a setting. While it isn’t bound by the same 50-plus years of comic book continuity, it is bound by the circumstances of the mid-1960s.

This is a very different time for superheroes and non-superheroes alike. It’s not just that soda costs a quarter and the idea of alternative facts can be attributed to bad acid trips. This is a time of major social upheaval, especially in places like New York. Issues surrounding the Vietnam War aren’t just affecting Peter. They’re affecting his friends and other heroes, like Captain America.

It’s a world in which Peter struggles with choices that don’t just involve being on time for class. He’s seeing friends/bullies like Flash Thompson get drafted into a war that is just starting to go poorly. He’s watching other superheroes who don’t have to deal with J. Jonah Jameson make difficult choices about whether to get involved. What does an aspiring superhero do in that kind of world?

It makes for an interesting and dramatic backdrop for “Spider-Man: Life Story #1.” Peter still deals with typical Spider-Man issues, like getting to class on time and pursuing a blossoming relationship with Gwen Stacy. There are also a few battles with familiar enemies, namely the Green Goblin, who’s an asshole in any era. However, neither Peter Parker nor Spider-Man are bigger than the issues of the world around them.

In many respects, it brings out a more balanced Spider-Man. His struggles in dealing with the times and circumstances around him makes Peter Parker feel more real. It has always been part of his appeal, going back to the era of Lee and Ditko. He’s not some billionaire playboy or legendary soldier. He’s just a nerdy kid who got super-powers by accident.

This is a Peter Parker who isn’t bound by the old Comic Code Authority or aversions to political undertones. Zdarsky and Bagley let him live and react to the world of 1966 in a way that’s both believable and engaging. Essentially, they let him be the character that Lee and Ditko created within the times of his creation.

Those turbulent times set up even more drama as issues like the Vietnam War and the growing mistrust between people and authority start to grow. Peter’s youth puts him in the front row of the emerging chaos while the adults around him, including other superheroes, find themselves affected in ways that would’ve abhorred 1960s censors.

In a sense, the times and the larger world of “Spider-Man: Life Story #1” is the biggest appeal of the story. It allows complexity and drama that isn’t typical of a modern Spider-Man comic, but somehow brings out the best in Peter Parker and those around him, even if J. Jonah Jameson is still an annoying blowhard.

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Done Deal: The Disney/Fox Merge Is Complete!

As Micky Mouse himself would say, “Oh boy!”

As of 12:02 a.m. on March 20, 2019, the deal that has been 18 months in the making is complete. Disney and Fox are officially merged in an intimate corporate entanglement that sounds extra-sexy to fans of the X-Men and Fantastic Four.

There are a lot of implications here. The media landscape will never be the same. I’m neither smart enough nor psychic enough to make sense of those implications. However, I’m certain there will be plenty to discuss in the coming years. As a fan of superhero movies and all things awesome, I’ll be keeping a close eye on it and I’ll certainly single out the stuff that’s extra sexy.

Until then, let’s all just take a moment to appreciate the bold new, Disney-dominated world we live in now.

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Fun, Happiness, And Why People Wage War On Them

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There’s a famous quote attributed to American journalist, H. L. Mencken, on Puritanism. It goes like this:

“Puritanism. The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.”

I’ve always found that sentiment humorous and more than a little revealing. It’s one I often notice with people who have extreme views on politics, religion, or some other arbitrary social construct. I see it those who are overly liberal or exceedingly conservative. I see it in organized religion among adherents who are exceedingly-strict with their dogma. I even see it among ardent comic fans to some extent.

Wherever you find a subject in which people can hold extreme positions, you’ll find people who are aghast at the idea that someone else within their domain is happy or having fun. Some take it as a direct insult, as if anyone who isn’t as passionate about their opinion is an affront to their very being.

Some Christians and Muslims are genuinely appalled when they see someone getting drunk and fooling around.

Some Hindus are just as appalled when they see someone enjoying a big hunk of beef for dinner.

Some feminists are outraged when they see men acting extra-masculine or even women acting traditionally feminine.

Even some anti-feminists are outraged when they see women exercising some degree of freedom, be it sexual or legal.

What’s going on here? I get why people get upset when they see a gross injustice in the world, be it a natural disaster that claims many lives or some atrocity committed by a violent psychopath. Human beings are naturally empathetic creatures. It makes sense for us to get worked up about those horrible situations. Why would we get just as worked up about people having fun or being happy?

I found myself asking that question a lot after a non-scandal broke out involving Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the youngest woman ever elected to the United States Congress. Being young, female, beautiful, and an unabashed liberal, she’s bound to attract criticism from her rivals and she certainly has since her election.

I understand there’s always going to be some mud-slinging in politics. However, an attack involving an old video of her from college took the discourse to a new domain of absurdity. What was that old video that a conservative rival used in an attempt to discredit her? Did she go on a racist rant, joke about sexual assault, or give unsolicited opinions about Israel?

It was none of that. It was just a video of her dancing in video that mirrored a classic scene from “The Breakfast Club.” Seriously, that’s it. She’s just dancing, smiling, and having a great time. Remember, this was intended to attack her.

Much to the chagrin of her rivals, it backfired. Most of the people who saw it thought it was adorable. I thought it was great. She and her friends are smiling, having fun, and enjoying themselves. What’s wrong about that? Why is fun and happiness a political weapon?

These are serious questions that are hard to take seriously when an issue involves happiness and fun. After all, who could possibly be against that other than those misery-loving Puritans that H. L. Mencken joked about? Well, there is twisted logic to it and it’s distressing in its implications.

This actually isn’t the first time a video of young people dancing and being happy caused a political scandal. Back in 2014, six youths in Iran were arrested and punished for having the audacity to dance together in a video to the Pharrell Williams song, “Happy.” This being Iran, a country ruled by a radical theocratic regime, they just couldn’t tolerate that.

The face of a man bent on killing fun.

The reasons for that intolerance weren’t the same was those behind the attack on Ms. Ocasio-Cortez, but the twisted logic was the same. These people were doing something other than working for the advancement of a particular movement, specifically Iran’s theocratic regime. Moreover, they were having fun in the process. From the perspective of the ruling state or radical ideologues, that’s just untenable.

I’m not being coy in making that point. People having fun and being happy is a legitimate problem for any religious, social, or political movement. That’s because, much to the horror of adherents, people who are content generally don’t want to get worked up about anything . They’re enjoying themselves. Why should they want to change anything about their current situation?

Happiness and fun are essentially kryptonite to anyone who wants to rally supporters to overthrow a government, the patriarchy, or angry “Star Wars” fans. They’re not just the ultimate distraction. They send the message that the current state of affairs is good and doesn’t need a radical upheaval. For those who want that upheaval, it’s a huge obstacle.

To some extent, the success of any movement requires that people never be happy or have fun. It’s how you keep the revolutionary fervor going. It’s how supporters of a movement stay energized. If they’re angry, upset, and distressed, then they’ll stay motivated. They’ll keep working and sacrificing to alleviate this troubled state.

Even in the absence of a powerful moment, fun and happiness can be a problem for an established order. Whether it’s a Western-style democracy or an old-school autocracy, people who have too much fun can become a liability. Too much fun and happiness could negatively impact their ability to work in the interests of that order. Even when times are good, there’s a tendency to attack anything that’s too fun.

Think back to the outrageous moral panics of the class, such as those involving comic books, dungeons and dragons, and various forms of music. In fact, you don’t even have to venture into the past. Just look at the current panics surrounding video games, porn consumption, and illicit drugs. There are all things that people have fun with, but they’re a not-so-subtle threat in the eyes of the established system.

From the perspective of those fueling the panic, all this fun won’t just keep people content and distracted. It’ll bring down the whole of society. That’s not just hyperbole. In their minds, they envision a world where everyone is having fun reading comics, doing drugs, and listening to heavy metal music. While they’re having that fun, though, the world around them is suffering.

Nobody is going to work and sacrificing for the community. Nobody is pairing up with an appropriate partner and having children that go onto be productive, tax-paying workers/consumers/adherents. For the rulers, politicians, and religious figures who benefit from that system, this vision is nothing short of apocalyptic.

This gets especially touchy whenever sex gets involved. If you want to understand why sexual promiscuity and the LGBT community have faced so much condemnation over the years, look no further than the constant refrain that they will ruin civilization. It’s not just that they don’t produce families/children/workers/taxpayers/adherents. There’s too much room for personal fulfillment.

Granted, their concerns are unfounded. The idea that everyone in a society would suddenly be distracted indefinitely by something that’s just that much fun underscores just how easily people get bored or distracted. People are chaotic and diverse in how they live their lives. They can’t even agree on the color of a dress or whether this picture of Bill Murry or Tom Hanks.

It’s still a crippling fear for every ideology or existing society. Too much happiness and fun will just cause it to collapse entirely. Even individual people who have too much fun are somehow flawed because they’re not passionately and angrily pursuing some sort of larger goal.

People NOT protesting. The horror.

Think back to the attack on Ms. Ocasio-Cortez and her fun-loving dance. From the perspective of her attacker, they thought they were showing that this woman was incapable of pursuing the goals she promised in her campaign. They thought it would undermine her credibility, as a politician and a potential threat to the opposing party.

However, those same attackers made the same mistake that everyone in a moral panic tends to make. People, in general, like having fun and being happy. They even appreciate those who can achieve it in their own unique way. It’s a losing battle, waging war on fun and happiness. It’s also a battle that those seeking to preserve power or pursue radical change can’t avoid.

Happy people having fun aren’t going to care about whatever angry rhetoric they’re trying to sell. Why would they? They’re too busy enjoying themselves.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Movie Night Mischief

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It’s a common theme of old dating traditions. You’re out on a date with your lover, you go to the movies, and things get a little heated as the big screen spectacle unfolds. Sometimes, it’s just playful touching. Sometimes, it becomes a full-fledged make-out session that may or may not require someone’s pants to come off.

I’m not a movie buff, except when it comes to superhero movies, but I do have a strong appreciation for getting covertly frisky in a darkened theater. I’ve seen it happen more than once. There was a movie theater not far from where I went to college that was notorious for couples getting busy during movies. No one got arrested, but many probably could’ve.

With the summer movie season upon us and movies like “Captain Marvel” already making waves, the time is right for couples to get a little more daring in darkened places. Now, I’m not encouraging activities that would be outright illegal. There are lines when it comes to romantic expression, even in darkened movie theaters.

That said, going to a movie doesn’t just have to be about going to a movie. It’s another opportunity for intimacy. It doesn’t have to be elaborate. You and your lover could just sit in your seats, eat popcorn, and watch the show and still have fun. You could also throw in some sexy moments in between. Depending on the kind of movie you’re seeing, that might even enhance the experience.

There aren’t a lot of public places where couples can easily sneak in a few affectionate gestures. A dark movie theater is just one of those select few. This Daily Sexy Musing is my way of appreciating those opportunities. As more summer blockbusters come out in the next few months I hope others take advantage of those opportunities.

The lights dim.

The previews are done.

The popcorn is fresh and so is the melted butter.

The movie is ready to begin and so are we.

Here, alone in a darkened domain, everything becomes more intimate. The spectacle on the screen draws everyone’s attention. For us, it’s both a means of entertainment and a distraction. Eyes that might drift towards us and ears that might sense us are hopelessly diverted. That means our energies can be channeled to more than just the movie.

What began as a simple night out suddenly has the potential to become so much more. Sitting together in such comfortable seats, immersed in a darkened theater, it’s as though fate is tempting us to be reckless with our passions. Little is necessary and even less is needed to spark greater desire.

One covert touch becomes a series of affectionate grasps.

One subtle gesture becomes a more intimate embrace.

One second of closeness becomes a more profoundly passionate moment.

Others are so close by, but we don’t care. Let the movie distract them while we distract each other. Our energies are divided between the cinematic visuals before us and the loving presence next to us. Rather than focus on one, we take in everything we can. It need not be one or the other. We don’t merely follow along. We make this moment our own.

This is our scene.

This is our spectacle.

This is our story.

The movie plays and so do we. Darkness and spectacle protects us while we subtly share our passions. Our hands find their way, as do our lips. The movie does its part, flooding our senses with sights and story. Together, we make it an experience, one that includes both fantasy and reality.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: St. Patrick’s Day 2019 Edition

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I’ve never made a big deal of St. Patrick’s Day. That’s not to say I have anything against it. Until I reached legal drinking age, I was totally neutral on it. As far as I know, my family tree does not have any significant Irish heritage. Very few friends or relatives ever made a big deal of it. For them, it was just another excuse to drink and throw a party.

In terms of holidays, it’s as basic as you can get. If there’s a party to be thrown and general merriment to be had, then that’s all the merit you really need. I’ve never needed too many excuses to enjoy a cold beer or hang out at a bar. St. Patrick’s Day just means more people at the bar and more green attire.

I know there are people who take St. Patrick’s Day much more seriously. Between the parades people throw in major cities and the green colored beer, some people take the celebration to a whole new level. Honestly, I completely respect that. Even before I was a drinker, I always respected those who took an excuse to have a party and run with it.

To all those who take full advantage of the festivities of St. Patrick’s Day, I hope you all enjoy yourselves. I’ll certainly be celebrating in my own way. I hope this batch of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts helps get everyone into the spirit. Enjoy!


“Logistically speaking, it doesn’t take too many tweaks to turn a romance movie into a porno.”


“Foreplay is like layers of frosting in that it’s difficult to overdo it and there are many forms it can take.”


“Good sex requires at least as much imagination as it does endurance.”


“A sizable chunk of human endeavors has a basis in men trying to get laid.”


“Making out is to sex what diet soda is to soft drinks.”


“The act of falling in love always involves some sort of reaction by our genitals.”


“When you think about it, fantasy is the oldest, most basic form of porn.”


Once again, I wish everyone a safe, happy, and sexy St. Patrick’s Day. Whether you take it seriously or not, it’s still a holiday and a reason to celebrate. Embrace that spirit and every sip of beer, whiskey, or vodka will taste that much sweeter.

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“Pleasing You” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote while taking a shower one day. A lot sexy thoughts tend to happen in the shower, depending on the kind of day you’ve had. This one was simply sexy enough to inspire a story. Enjoy!

“Late, restless, and sore,” sighed Trevor Zander as he pulled into his driveway, “so what else is new?”

It had been yet another long day at the office. Again, Trevor got caught up with work that someone else should’ve done. Again, he had to be the one who picked up the slack because nobody else would. It was becoming too common, him pulling extra weight when others couldn’t. It wasn’t fair, but someone had to do it and he had to set the example.

It wasn’t fair, but it was still his responsibility. Ever since Trevor quit his comfortable desk job at an insurance company, his work/life balance had been erratic, to say the least. Ever since finishing college, he’d strived to be more than just some paper-pusher at someone else’s company. He wanted to star this own business, build his own legacy, and achieve his own goals. That meant putting in extra money, time, and effort. He just had no idea it could be so draining.

As he turned off his car and stared at the small house he could barely afford, Trevor considered staying in the car for the rest of the night. His wife, Rachel, deserved better. It was almost midnight and he’d promised that morning he would be home for dinner. The worst part of his day, by far, was when he had to call her that afternoon to let her know he had to break that promise.

It wasn’t the first time he’d gone back on his word, but it had been happening way too often lately. He’d kept making the same excuses. Breaking one minor promise helped him keep a much bigger promise he’d made the day they got married.

He told Rachel at the altar that he would give her a better life. He was going to start the business he’d been planning for since high school. He was going to rise above the poverty that had held his family back for years. He was going to give her and their future children every possible advantage. While he didn’t regret making that promise, he wished he’d thought it through.

“I’m a man of my word. I always have been,” he said distantly. “So why does it feel like I’m failing the woman I love?”

He wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel, if only to punish himself for breaking another promise. It didn’t matter that it was minor. He said he’d be home for dinner and he wasn’t. A lie was a lie, no matter the scale.

Now, it was almost midnight. For all he knew, she was fast asleep and he wouldn’t have a chance to apologize again. That was reason enough to hit himself upside the head, but that wouldn’t have made him feel less crappy.

“No excuses,” Trevor muttered. “You can beat yourself up all you want. You’ll never bury the excuses.”

That was something his father told him. He’d died several years ago, broken and in debt after working himself to the bone at a construction site. He was the one who encouraged Trevor to make something more of himself. So far, he couldn’t say he’d failed, but he couldn’t say he was succeeding either. The best he could do was prepare himself for more hard work and more broken promises.

“I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry, Rachel,” he said under his breath. “At some point, I need to make those words matter.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to achieve that goal anytime soon, Trevor sighed to himself again and got out of the car. The restlessness seemed to follow him as he entered his darkened house, the only light coming from the living room.

There, he found his beautiful wife lying on the couch, fast asleep with the TV remote still in her hand. She must have been waiting for him. She was wearing those old sweatpants and oversized T-shirt she always wore when she needed to relax. She usually tried to be up, no matter how late he got home. He didn’t hold it against her, but at least she never made a promise she couldn’t keep.

“Good night, my love,” he said. “At least one of us should get a peaceful night’s sleep. You deserve it.”

Casting her an affectionate smile, Trevor kissed her on the forehead before covering her with a light blanket. She barely stirred from his gentle touch. Being the heavy sleeper she was, he wasn’t worried about waking her.

Content to let his wife sleep peacefully, he made his way upstairs where he stripped out of his work clothes and made his way into the bathroom. He couldn’t keep his promise to be home in time for dinner, but he could still make it so he didn’t smell like copier ink in the morning. Having not had time to shower that morning, he needed something to help him relax, even if he didn’t deserve it.

“It’s got to get easier,” he said to himself as he waited for the water to warm up. “This can’t keep being the least stressful part of my day.”

His nerves still frayed and his mind still racing, Trevor entered the shower and began rinsing himself off. The hot torrent of water helped soothe some soreness he’d been feeling all afternoon, but that was the most he could hope for. He was too restless to sleep and he had another long day ahead of him tomorrow so chances were that harder days awaited him.

“This time, I won’t make promises I can’t keep,” Trevor told himself. “No more excuses…especially to the people I love.”

He kept telling himself that as he stood under the hot stream of water, letting it wash away the frustrations and rigors. He wasn’t sure if he would even try to sleep. Maybe he was better off just doing some work from home to get a head start on the next day, which already seemed so daunting.

As he contemplated that prospect, though, he heard the bathroom door open. Then, through the fogged up glass of the shower, he saw a familiar figure approach.

“Rachel?” Trevor called out. “Is that you?”

“Of course, my love,” replied that sweet, caring voice he knew so well. “Who else would be here for you this late?”

Before he could ask another question, the shower door opened. Sure enough, it was Rachel, wide awake and with a loving smile on her face. He was so taken aback that he almost forgot he was naked and looking right at her.

“Looks like you had another rough day,” Rachel said. “Hell, you’ve been having a lot of those lately. And I feel like I can do more to help.”

Then, that loving smile never leaving her face, she took off her clothes. Even though Trevor had even her naked many times before, watching the woman he loved strip was still a sight to behold. He was at such a loss for words that he barely moved when she entered the shower with him.

“Scoot,” she said. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

“I know,” said Trevor, “but…”

“No buts,” she said, silencing him with a finger to the lips. “I know it’s late. I know you’re overworked and over-stressed. That’s exactly why you need this…why we need this.”

Trevor wasn’t about to argue with a beautiful naked woman. He was more than happy to make some room for Rachel, who hadn’t been fast asleep after all. He was all too eager to enter her loving embrace, their naked bodies coming together in an almost desperate need for love and comfort. With the hot water still cascading down between them, he finally felt some semblance of relief.

“Are you going to at least let me say I’m sorry?” Trevor asked her as he held her in his powerful arms.

“You already did, remember?” Rachel reply.

“I know, but it’s worth saying again. I promised you I’d be home for dinner and I wasn’t. I keep trying to make time with you and things just keep getting in the way.”

“That’s bound to happen for someone trying to build his own business.”

“That’s not the point. What good is building something if you don’t even have a chance to share it? I’m not just doing this for me, remember? I’m doing this for us.”

“I know you are,” said Rachel, “and I love you for that. I also knew we were in for a lot of sleepless nights when I agreed to marry you…and I’m not just talking about our honeymoon.”

“Except that was sleepless for very different reasons,” he said with curt grin.

“But you’re not the only one who made big promises on our wedding day. I remember making a few of my own. And I’d like to keep one of them tonight while I have the chance.”

That sweet, caring tone in her voice made all stress from earlier melt away. Then, still standing in a naked wet embrace, she kissed him. It might have been the best possible remedy for such a long day. Tasting her lips while feeling her breasts press up against his chest was such a wonderful feeling. It helped remind him why he’d made such lofty promises to her in the first place.

For while, they just soaked it in, kissing and caressing one another under the steaming torrent of water. Rachel lovingly pawed his chest and back while he felt up her womanly curves, giving her butt some extra attention along the way. Despite all the stress he’d endured from a long day at work, his body still reacted to her sensual affections. He could already feel an arousal building between them.

Rachel must have felt it too because, as they kissed, her touching drifted down towards his lower body. Her hand soon made contact with his manhood, which was already semi-hard. Without saying another word, she broke the kiss and dropped to her knees.

“Rachel,” Trevor gasped as he felt his wife’s hand on his cock, “what are you doing?”

“Pleasing you,” was all she said.

That was all she needed to say. Still looking up at him with those loving eyes, she sensually licked her lips before taking his member into her mouth. It made his legs tremble, his knees almost buckling on the spot. Trevor had to hold onto the glossy walls of the shower for support, the sudden flood of sensations coursing through his body.

Rachel was skilled at a lot of things, but oral sex was one of her specialties. She knew just how he liked it, suckling his member with care and precision. She was so thorough, slithering her tongue along his manly length and squeezing the shaft with her firm grip. It was enough to divert the flow of blood in his body and refocus his thoughts on something other than work.

“Ooh Rachel!” Trevor moaned. “That’s just…what I need.”

That only encouraged her. With the water still falling around them, she sucked him harder, bobbing her head back and forth along his rigid length. Trevor soon found himself fully aroused and overwhelmed with desire. Looking at his wife, he no longer cared for broken promises or stressful nights. His only desire was to make love to her in the way she deserved.

“My love,” she said to him after giving his shaft one last lick, “I think you need something more.”

“So do you, my darling wife,” Trevor said with a grin, “so do you.”

Her eyes radiating a similar desire, she rose up from the shower floor. From there, Trevor took the initiative. Empowered with newfound passion and determined with renewed focus, he turned her around and pinned her up against the nearby wall so that her heart-shaped butt was pointed right at him. From there, lust and instinct took over.

Now positioned behind her, Trevor grabbed hold of her waist and aligned his rigid manhood with her wet entrance. He then delivered an intimate thrust, entering Rachel’s womanly depths. Gasps and moans quickly followed. Their flesh now united in a passionate harmony, they began moving together under the torrent of water.

“Oh Rachel!” Trevor moaned.

“Mmm…are you pleased, my love?” Rachel moaned in response.

“Ooh yeah!”

She’d really done it. Moments ago, he’d been so anxious and restless. Now, he’d joined her in a shared daze of passion. He honestly couldn’t imagine a better remedy for such a long day.

As their naked bodies moved to the steady pace of their lovemaking, he lovingly kissed down her neck, savoring the taste of her naked skin. Rachel loved having her neck teased. It always drove her wild during their intimate moments. It showed in the way she bucked her hips in accord with his every thrust, using the wall as leverage every step of the way.

As the intensity escalated, his hand found hers and their fingers interlocked. Rachel also turned her head at times so they could share a loving kiss, a gesture of love to balance an act of raw lust. It led to more heated movements. Aided by both intense arousal and the steamy environment of the shower, his manly flesh slithered effortlessly within her womanly depths. Just as she knew how to please him in his most stressful moments, he knew how to please her too.

“Rachel, I…I’m getting close,” Trevor whispered into her ear.

“Me too, Trevor. Me…too!” Rachel gasped. “Let’s…let’s do it together!”

“You please me. I please you. It’s only fair.”

It couldn’t have been more fitting, him returning the favor for her going out of her way. She was such a good woman. She deserved the best and Trevor was going to give it to her.

For the final push to ecstasy, he withdrew from her briefly and turned her around. He then pinned her up against the shower wall again, hitched her leg up over his arm, and entered her again. He made sure to be extra fervent with the pace of their lovemaking, locking eyes with his beautiful wife and caressing her face in preparation for the final moment. When it arrived, the look of joy on her face made every stressful day so worth it.

“Oohhhh Trevor!”

It was a sight to behold, his wife climaxing before his eyes. There was something extra special about it in the steamy ambiance of their shower. It made his own descent into ecstasy that much more satisfying.

In that moment, it all came together. She clung it him desperately as orgasmic bliss consumed her body. He held onto her as white hot pleasure surged through him, his manly flesh throbbing within her hot depths. A mixing of their juices coupled with intense sensations made for a harmonious culmination, one that felt as rewarding as keeping a promise.

“Trevor,” Rachel said, her face still awash with passion, “I still believe in you…in us.”

“Yeah…me too,” said Trevor breathlessly.

“You haven’t…broken your promises. You’re doing…your part. I want to do mine too.”

“You are, Rachel,” he said with a wide grin. “You most certainly are. And I won’t forget that again. I promise.”

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How Humanity Will Cure Death

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When it comes to pushing the limits of technology, every goal once started as a fantasy. In the 19th century, the smartest minds of the time thought heavier-than-air flying machines were infeasible at best and impossible at worst. In the early 20th century, other people with legitimate scientific credentials said the same thing about a manned mission to the moon.

While it seems absurd today, at the time it made sense. The people of that era just couldn’t imagine technology advancing to a point where humanity regularly achieved feats that had once been relegated to science fiction. It’s easy it mock them with the benefit of hindsight, but there are plenty of smart people today who have made claims that will be mocked 50 years from now.

One claim that most individuals, including those who work at the forefront of science and research, is that we will never cure death. Science is certainly capable of doing a great deal, but death is one of those immutable barriers that it can never overcome.

We may be able to cure all infectious disease through biotechnology and genetic engineering. We may one day have technology that allows our bodies to become so durable that from the perspective of people alive today, they’ll be superhuman. They may even live for centuries, but never age past 30. Nothing other than a freak accident could kill them. I’ve already noted the potential issues with that.

However, even these highly-enhanced humans will eventually die at some point. That seems like a given. Efforts to avoid it are often subject to heavy criticism, especially approaches like cryonics or uploading your mind into a computer. While some of those criticisms are valid, they’re also short-sighted. They work under the same assumption as those who claimed humans would never walk on the moon.

Technology has limits, but humans have a bad track record with respect to understanding those limits. With respect to curing death, even the most advanced fields of emerging technology seem limited in their ability to help people escape such a fate. That doesn’t mean the concept is flawed. It doesn’t even mean that the technology is beyond the laws of physics.

Personally, I believe death can be cured, but not with approaches like cryonics or bodily enhancements. While those technologies may ultimately extend our lives, being able to transcend death requires another approach. Specifically, it requires a mechanism for preserving, transforming, and transferring the contents of our brains.

Medically speaking, the official definition of death is the irreparable cessation of all brain activity. Your body can be damaged. Every other organ could fail. Your brain is the last link in that chain. It contains your memories, your emotions, your personality, and your capacity to experience the world. To cure death, we simply need to preserve the brain and all its functions.

That’s much harder than it sounds, but it’s not physically impossible. The human brain is not made up of some mythical, exotic material. It’s made up of specialized cells and tissues, like any other organ. While we don’t entirely understand the workings of the brain, it operates using physical matter that is bound by the laws of physics and biology.

Those limits are the key and the mechanism for preserving that complex clump of biomatter already exists, both as a concept and in a very unrefined form. That technology involves nanobots and if there’s one technology that has the potential to make humans truly immortal, it’s this.

The concept of nanobots is already a common staple of science fiction, but it’s primarily used as the technological equivalent of a wizard’s spell. If you need something or someone to do the impossible without resorting to magic, just throw nanobots or nanites, as they’re often called, into the story and let the impossible seem mundane.

While it’s doubtful that nanobots can do everything that science fiction claims, there’s a good chance that they’ll come pretty close. It’s impossible to overstate the potential of nanorobotics. From mass-producing any kind of good to curing humans of all infectious disease, nanobots have the potential to literally and figuratively change our lives, our bodies, and our world.

At the moment, we only have crude prototypes. In time, though, nanobots could become something akin to programmable matter and, by default, programmable flesh. Technically speaking, a nanobot could be programmed to do whatever a typical brain cell does, but more efficiently.

In the late 90s, scientists like Robert Freitas Jr. envisioned nanobots called respirocytes, which functioned like artificial blood cells. In theory, these would be far more effective at getting air and nutrients to the rest of your body, so much so that you could hold your breath for hours or sprint indefinitely.

That’s all well and good for deep sea diving and Olympic sprinters, but for curing death, the concept needs to go even further. That means creating nanobots that mimic the same function as a neuron, but with more efficiency and durability. Create enough of those and you’ve got the exact same hardware and functionality as the brain, but with the utility of a machine.

Once we have that technology refined and perfected, we have everything we need to effectively cure death. Doing so means gradually replacing every neuron in our skulls with a more efficient, more durable nanobot that does everything that neuron did, and then some. The most important additional feature these nanobots would have is a measure of intelligence that could be programmed.

By being programmable, the nanobots in our skulls would be more plastic. It would be less an organ and more a synthetic substrate, of sorts. It could be drained into a container, implanted into a robot specifically designed to contain it, or just preserved indefinitely in the event that there are no bodies available, not unlike the systems used in, “Altered Carbon.”

To some, this still doesn’t count because it requires that every cell in our brains be replaced with something. Technically, that brain wouldn’t be yours and you might not even be use, as a result. I respectfully disagree with this criticism, primarily because it ignores the whole Ship of Theseus argument.

If you’re not familiar with this concept, it’s pretty simple, but the implications are profound. It starts with a real, actual ship used by the mythical hero, Theseus. If, at one point, you replace a piece of wood in that ship, it’s still the same ship. However, the more pieces you replace, the less of the original ship you have. Eventually, if you replace all pieces, is it the same ship?

The human brain, or any organ in your body, is an extreme version of that thought experiment. The brain cells can replicate, but it’s a slower process compared to most cells and the configurations are always changing. The way your brain is wired now is changing as you read this sentence. A cluster of nanobots doing the same thing won’t be any different.

Like the Ship of Theseus, it wouldn’t happen all at once. In principle, the brain cell doesn’t even get destroyed. It just gets subsumed by the mechanizations of the nanobot. How it goes about this is hard to determine, but there’s nothing in the laws of physics that prohibit it. At the molecular level, it’s just one set of atoms replacing another.

Once in place, though, the limits of biology go out the window. With programmable nanobots, a person doesn’t just have the same functionality as a biological brain. It’s has other functions that allow for easier programming. We could, in theory, supplement the nanobots with additional material, sort of like cloud computing. It could even create a neurobiological backup of your brain that could be kept in stasis.

At that point, death is effectively cured. Once your brain becomes a substrate of nanobots, you can just transfer it into a body, a robot, or some other containment vessel that allows it to experience the world in any way desired. If, by chance, that body and the substrate are destroyed or damaged, then the backup kicks in and it’ll be like you just jumped from one place to another.

Some of this relies on an improved understanding of how consciousness works and assumes that it could be somehow transferred, expanded, or transmitted in some way. That may very well be flawed. It may turn out to be the case that, even if you turn your brain into a glob of nanobots, you can’t transmit your consciousness beyond it. If it gets destroyed, you die.

There’s a lot we currently don’t understand about the mechanisms of consciousness, let alone our ability to manipulate those mechanisms. However, a lack of understanding doesn’t negate the possibilities. Our previous inability to understand disease didn’t prevent our ancestors’ ability to treat it to some extent.

If it is the case that we cannot transmit consciousness from our brains, then we can still craft a functional cure for death. It just requires that we put our brains in protective vats from which carry out our existence in a simulated world. Those vats could be protected in a massive artificial planet that’s powered by a black hole or neutron star. In theory, our brains would be preserved until the heat death of the universe.

Whatever the limitations, the technology and the concepts are already in place, if only on paper. It’s difficult to know whether anyone alive today will live long enough to see an advancement like this. Then again, the children alive in 1900 probably didn’t think they would live to see a man walk on the moon.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Doctors And Nurses

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Some sexy fantasies are so common that we don’t scrutinize them anymore. It’s not just because porn, chick flicks, and erotica/romance novels, some of which I wrote, often utilize them to get peoples’ blood flowing in all the right directions, either. They’re so prevalent that we assume the appeal is inherent. We don’t really give it much thought beyond that.

Chief among those kinds of fantasies involve doctors and nurses. Talk to most straight men and they’ll perk up a bit when describing a sexy nurse. Talk to most straight women and they’ll get a little excited when describing a tall, handsome, deep-voiced doctor. Whether it involves a stripper costume or George Clooney, there’s a great deal of sexiness associated with those in the medical field.

A sexy nurse and a sexy doctor aren’t just people who make wearing a stethoscope sexy. These are people who help us when we’re at our most vulnerable. When we’re sick, all the strength and reliance that carries us through the day takes a hit. We have to rely on someone else to help us. That’s rarely a good feeling, but doctors and nurses do more than most to help make us better.

They don’t just heal us. They care for us in an intimate way. They understand the workings of the human body and how to treat it. There’s something inherently sensual about that. Looking like George Clooney helps, but just being someone will comfort and heal your wounded body is enough to inspire any number of fantasies.

This Daily Sexy Musing isn’t just a tribute to the George Clooneys or Dr. House’s of our collective fantasy. It’s a deeper insight into the thoughts and desires that inspire such fantasies in the first place. Being sick is awful, but the fact it can inspire such a common fantasy is a testament to just how sexy doctors and nurses can be.

I feel awful. Everything aches. My body is failing me. Nothing I do helps. I’m so weak and frail. It’s like I’m withering from the inside out. Neither strength nor will is enough. I need help. I need your healing touch.

You brave my wounded presence.

You endure my distressed disposition.

You share your strength with me.

You use your special knowledge, wisdom, and skill.

From where I lay, you are an angel. You come to me in my time of need, not needing prayer or sacrifice. The cries of the sick are your siren’s song. You comfort the weak and console wounded. I place great trust in you and that trust is rewarded.

Over time, my strength returns to me. Thanks to your special expertise, I am healed. My spirit regains its fire. The body that failed me is working once more. However, you did something special to me when you healed it. Specifically, you left an indelible mark on my heart.

You’re still my angel.

You’re still my renewed spirit.

You’re still the strength that I regained.

In you, I see more than one who heals the sick. I am in awe, both of your skill and how you choose to use it. Around the weak, you share your strength. You confront the illness, rather than recoil from it. I gave you such power over me, trusting you to use it to make me whole. You used that power wisely. My awe only grows.

To my healer, I am eternally grateful.

To the one behind the medicine, you mean more to me than your knowledge.

Whatever uniform you wear or tools you use, I see a gift and a spirit that makes any soul beautiful. Like any beauty, I am drawn to it. Unlike most beauty, I owe it my life. From my weakest to my strongest, I give myself to you. Once again, I trust in your healing touch.

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