Ask Jonathots… September 22nd, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3072)

ask jonathots bigger

Am I the only person who is disgusted by the 50 Shades of Grey franchise? Take away the “rich” aspect and it becomes an episode of Criminal Minds. Why are we teaching our girls and women that this type of controlling and manipulative behavior is all right?

It’s risky.

Any time you try to present common sense, you will run across a contingency who do not view themselves as “common,” and also think “sense” doesn’t seem as much fun.

You will be accused of being provincial, puritanical, Victorian or even bigoted.

Yet…

Sado-masochism is anti-woman. If projected against a male, it is also anti-man.

Even if the participants are willing, they are functioning from a wounded place–perhaps previous abuse–which now spurs their lust.

It is grounded in violence.

It is a reenactment. or at least a shadow, of rape and torture.

It is the removal of the tenderness of intimacy.

There is no excuse for it; there is no place for it.

We don’t condone a young girl who takes a knife and cuts her arm, as merely expressing her personal preference in pleasure. We realize that this self-mutilation is warning us of an inner turmoil.

In human sexuality there is no room for violence, pain, intimidation, control or domination. Human sexuality is actually the opposite. It is a humble and gentle opening of oneself to another human being, looking for confirmation instead of denigration.

In the pursuit of giving rights to all races, all religions and all sexual orientations, we must be careful not to include a general freedom for human behavior which is destructive.

Fifty Shades of Grey and Fifty Shades Darker are antiquated attempts by manipulative individuals to take the cause of human equality back centuries, when women were considered seductive because they were thrown down on the bed, averting their eyes in humiliation.

As I said, there is no excuse for it; there is no place for it.

There is no reasonable way to give it respect in our social order and still maintain the progress that men and women are pursuing to become human.

Simply stated, dehumanizing people destroys the human race.

The worst part of this treachery is that young girls are being taught, in a medieval way, that they are the “pleasuring holes” for domineering men, and that the painful process might just include increased pleasure.

It is foolish, it is selfish and it is damning.

I will say without any hesitation that anyone who laughs at a woman putting on a pair of handcuffs as a symbol of foreplay is encouraging this fallacy, taking one-half of our race and stripping them of their God-given power.

Donate Button

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity


Jonathan’s Latest Book Release!

PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant

Click here to get your copy now!

PoHymn cover jon

 

Ask Jonathots… September 15th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3065)

ask jonathots bigger

I truly don’t understand what the big deal is about sex. I haven’t figured out why people think your sex related decisions define you. Is it just because a) you’re naked, and b) it’s how babies are created?

There is a simple problem in our country:

Those who believe in God fail to honor science, and those who revere science find it necessary to turn their backs on God.

There seem to be relatively few people who understand that a Creative Father felt the need to establish an order through Mother Nature.

With that in mind, let’s address your question.

  • When do people mature sexually? Somewhere between the age of 13 and 15.
  • When do we think people should get married? Late twenties, or some folks even think early 30’s.

So in our culture there are fifteen years of sexual viability which is supposed to be stuffed away in a closet in preparation for marriage, or stumbled into through carnal experimentation made dangerous through immaturity and disease.

We really have to make up our minds. Are we going to continue to believe that people are children until they’re thirty, or are we going to establish an earlier emotional awareness to match the sexual awakening?

Sex is a big deal because people either pretend it’s sacred or just “a physical experience.” Since human beings may be the only species in which both male and female have the capacity for pleasure outside of procreation, we should probably emphasize the pleasure side of sexuality instead of insisting that God has belabored the girl with birth and the boy with “killing the game and dragging it back to the fire.”

What is sex? It is a physical experience producing a burst of pleasure which is also used by our species for procreation.

So if you have no intention of procreating, then you should be looking for ways to tap the pleasure without becoming irresponsible.

If your intention is to procreate, then you probably need to do what all the animals on Earth do–find a way to nest with your mate to take care of your baby birds.

You have to make up your mind:

Are we just animals or is there more to us than that?

Are we just spiritual or do we possess a bit of animal?

Sexuality can never be casual because we’re not just tigers. It can also never be considered completely spiritual–it’s too easy to do and we really don’t do it any different from the monkeys.

So what’s the best answer for you?

Get a mature look at both your physical evolution and your emotional responsibility. You will never be able to have sex without having some inclination toward an emotional union.

Avoid the stupidity of the religious, who make the joining of the penis and the vagina some sort of holy oracle.

And also escape the worldly, who view it as a common crossroads of human interaction.

In the long run we will have to teach our children to mature more quickly–or else not be so concerned that they start “probing the parts.”

For after all, even the Pope knows that nobody’s going to arrive at twenty-nine years of age a virgin.

Donate Button

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity


Jonathan’s Latest Book Release!

PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant

Click here to get your copy now!

PoHymn cover jon

 

Dear Man/Dear Woman: A Noteworthy Conversation … August 27th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3046)

Dear Man Dear Woman

Dear Woman: My girlfriend broke up with me.

 

Dear Man: Well, don’t look at me. I know you too well to be your girlfriend.

 

Dear Woman: I wasn’t flirting–just sharing.

 

Dear Man: And I was just kidding. What happened?

 

Dear Woman: According to her, nothing. That was the problem. She said I was too predictable.

 

Dear Man: And predictable is a problem because…?

 

Dear Woman: Because of the way we began. I think we believed we were overall attracted to one another, but it was just a sexual connection. We thought we could transform that spark into something more lasting.

 

Dear Man: Isn’t that true of every relationship? You start off with the hots, it chills, and then you try to find something cool.

 

Dear Woman: I don’t think so. I think there are relationships that are just sexual, but we’re afraid to admit this to ourselves, so we try to force conversation over delivered pizza.

 

Dear Man: So what is the difference between a sexual relationship and another?

 

Dear Woman: Well, let’s take an arbitrary number. How about 422? Yes, after the 422nd time you have sex, about everything that can possibly be physically discovered about each other has been completed. So then you either have a personal interest which sustains the coupling, or you start picking at each other, looking for a reason to split.

 

Dear Man: So do you think it’s about a personal interest?

 

Dear Woman: No, I don’t think a personal interest sustains two people, either. It must become a mutual interest. There has to be a reason to coagulate.

 

Dear Man: Coagulate? What an interesting word.

 

Dear Woman: Yes. It’s like blood clotting, You have so much going on with each other that you turn into a common scab.

 

Dear Man: Honestly, I think that’s the end of that analogy.

 

Dear Woman: Yeah, you’re probably right. But if a sexual interest does not have a personal interest which ends up with a mutual interest, you’re going to bounce off to the next piece of heat.

 

Dear Man: You know where I think the problem is? Women get trapped in the idea of being thrilled to be wanted, and men think it’s enough to want.

 

Dear Woman: I suppose it keeps procreation going on, but it certainly is not the climate for a good give-and-take between a man and woman.

 

Dear Man: I’m a woman. It’s not enough to be wanted. That’s what I need to tell my daughters. Many men will want you. You can’t comply simply because it feels good to be told you’re pretty.

 

Dear Woman: And I’m a man. It’s not enough for me just to want. I want–I have this little trigger in the lower part of my body that confirms the necessity. But it doesn’t mean that I should subjugate a woman or that I should make promises I can’t keep.

 

Dear Man: Human sexuality is screwed up, and that’s why gender wars are unleashed, and equality seems impossible.

 

Dear Woman: When I have children, I will teach the girls that it’s not enough to be wanted, and the boys that it’s not enough to want.

 

Dear Man: And I will teach my children the same, and tell them that the only way to ultimately show respect to another person is to make sure, at all junctures, that they are making their own choices.

 

Donate Button

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity


Jonathan’s Latest Book Release!

PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant

Click here to get your copy now!

PoHymn cover jon

 

Confessing… August 1st, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2650)

XIII.

I confess so I can heal.

If I deny, I remain sick.

In the summer of my sixteenth year, my human sexuality cornered me like a ravenous jackal.

I discovered that my penis also had a “wonderful plan for my life.”

I was in the midst of my first serious relationship with a girl and my curiosity was out to see the cat. I had lived as a good church boy, vacant of any understanding of my body parts beyond my hands and knees for prayer. No one had ever told me what I was supposed to do with what.

Only when.

At the same time, I struck up a friendship with Ben, who was one year younger than me. He, too, was on the quest for fire.

So even though we spent sufficient time working on our church coffee-house together, whenever we were out driving around and talking, we were speculating on the anatomy of the various females we encountered, possessing the knowledge of a new-born baby pontificating on eating steak.

Now, there was a drive-in theater about fifteen miles from our home called the Queensland. On Saturday nights, this establishment showed X-rated movies. I had never seen such a flick, and was beginning to feel the absence.

So I talked to Ben and we decided to make a trip down to this theater and bring paper and pencil to become great students. A couple of other guys got wind of it and begged to go with us. Our first instinct was to say no, but when they continued to plead, we acquiesced.

It was only when we got a mile from the theater that we discovered the other two guys hadn’t brought any money along for admission. So I opened up the big trunk of my Impala and they crawled in to hide, so we could get into the drive-in without paying for them.

It worked beautifully.

Upon arriving and finding our speaker-box of choice, we slyly let them out of the trunk and they came into the car. For the next three-and-a-half hours, the four of us drooled like teething babies.

We saw things we had never seen before. Some of it we liked, and some of it was grotesque and scary.

But we watched it all.

I was the oldest one in the car, and therefore should have had better sense–especially in assessing who I took to see the “skin and sin.”

The following Wednesday, I was called to the preacher’s office. One of the young boys who had been in the back seat had a fit of conscience and confessed his evil deed to his parents. I was confronted, disciplined and told what a “terrible witness I was.”

I didn’t care.

I guess none of these young men ended up being rapists or sex offenders, but I’m very sorry for what I did. I had no right to tie their confusion in with my confusion to create chaos.

What should I have done?

I probably should have complained to the adults around me about how ignorant and devoid of knowledge they had left me, in a world of lions, tigers and bears–oh, my.

So when I became a father, I told my children very early about the sexual aspect of their lives.

I don’t know if it affected their purity… but it certainly eliminated their guilt.

 

confessing car trunk

 

Donate Button

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

***************************

NEW BOOK RELEASE BY JONATHAN RICHARD CRING

WITHIN

A meeting place for folks who know they’re human

 $3.99 plus $2.00 S&H

 

$3.99 plus $2.00 S & H

$3.99 plus $2.00 S & H

Buy Now Button

 

Jesonian: Three in One … June 28th, 2015

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2617)

Jane Fonda in Klute

The exact phrasing is, “He needed to go to Samaria.”

Jesus made a decision to pass through Samaria instead of being a good little Jewish boy and going around that province which was known for its heresy and wickedness.

I think I now realize why he did it.

He had a meeting at a well in Sychar. In that one encounter, he succeeded in passing on, for all time and to all generations, his heart on gender equality, judging morality and racial bigotry.

Let’s look at the story.

Having sent his disciples away to get food, he strikes up a conversation with a woman from Samaria. This means very little to us in our day and age, but in the season that Jesus of Nazareth lived on the earth, men and women did not talk. They just copulated.

She was surprised.

She was suspicious.

Honestly, considering her background, she probably thought he was trying to make a pass at her.

He wasn’t.

He talked to her. His conversation with this woman in Sychar was no different in its intensity and intelligence from the conversation he had with Nicodemus, a learned male Pharisee.

Jesus was telling us the following:

Men and women are equals and the more they act like humans, the better they’ll get along with each other.

Secondly, in the midst of the conversation, he asked the woman to go get her husband. She replied, “I have no husband.”

Jesus replied, “You have spoken well, for you’ve had five husbands and the man you’re living with now is not your husband.”

Though she was not totally forthcoming with Jesus about her status, she didn’t lie. He thanked her for telling him as much of the truth as she was able to put forth.

He made no moral judgment on her.

He did not condemn her for having multiple marriages nor insist that she was living in sin.

He established for all time, “I will welcome anyone who’s honest about their sexuality and their situation without offering condemnation.”

And finally, when the disciples showed up and saw him talking to a woman who was of a different belief and race, they were upset–in that “religious folk way.”

You know what I mean? They started whispering among themselves.

Jesus got the disciples out of there so he could establish what he really felt about bigotry, that being:

“I will ignore and fight against racism even if it makes people uncomfortable or my friends disagree.”

In one meeting, Jesus handled three of the largest issues of our time:

  • Gender equality
  • Human sexuality
  • And racism.

And I think if you read it very carefully in the Good Book in John the 4th Chapter, you will understand that to Jesus, women are humans, people shouldn’t be judged by their moral choices and racism is evil.

 Donate Button

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

***************************

NEW BOOK RELEASE BY JONATHAN RICHARD CRING

WITHIN

A meeting place for folks who know they’re human

 $3.99 plus $2.00 S&H

 

$3.99 plus $2.00 S & H

$3.99 plus $2.00 S & H

Buy Now Button

 

Untotaled: Stepping 53 (October 27th, 1969) Drummond Park… February 7, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2496)

(Transcript)

Murray Gregory, a man with two first names,.

He was a deacon in our church, yet every once in a while he’d get himself an “alcohol rub” in his soul and go off two or three days binge-drinking and end up in the drunk tank in downtown Columbus.

Folks from the church would go bail him out and by Sunday morning he would be at the altar, crying his way back to Jesus. Everything would be fine until the next time he got the inclination to jump in the bottle.

My opinion was that he was a sloppy drunk and a mean deacon. I will tell you this–he didn’t like me at all.

I bring this up because the bikini friend I had begun dating the previous summer had become my girlfriend, and we were beginning to experiment with one another.

Neither one of us had learned the facts of life–I never told, and she confused by parents who were over-clinical. Health class in high school only served to stimulate our interest without truly explaining our “stimulators.”

The young lady and I were not sure of the depth of our commitment, but completely enthralled with the width of our passion.

So there were a bunch of little parks that speckled the Central Ohio area, which had nothing more than a few picnic tables, an outhouse, and of course, a place to park.

One Indian summer afternoon, my girlfriend’s father allowed us to use his Corvette, and we, feeling that we ruled the world, ended up at Drummond Park, and decided to probe one another’s private parts. We had no intention of “going all the way.” That was un-Christian. But eyeballing the “land of promise” did seem within Biblical proportions.

So we studied each other with a fervor we had not had for education since discovering the glories of construction paper and paste in kindergarten.

Meanwhile, back at Drummond Park, we had just finished up one of these sessions. She had returned to her seat and I had restarted the engine, when Deacon Gregory came walking by the Corvette. We both had no idea where he had come from; he did not speak to us, just headed to the outhouse to do his business.

I did not wait for him to come out to find out what he had seen–or heard, for that matter–but made my exit as quickly as possible. We drove home, trying to figure out what trouble we were in.

I always felt like he was following us. I had no proof. But it did give us plenty to think about.

But the juices that were squeezed that day in Drummond Park released a drug in our systems, of human sexuality. Once it has been injected, it is very difficult to stop being a user and very easy to become addicted.

And as far as I know … there is no rehab. 

Donate Button

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

click above for information on 567!

click above for information on 567!

 

The Box I Built … February 9, 2013

(1,786)

I gave my caretakers, instructors and the adult world nearly two decades to make their imprint on my life, to prove their case. I think that’s pretty generous.

And then I noticed “now abideth faith, hope and love…” I suddenly realized in my late teens that I did not believe in my clan’s faith. It’s not so much that I had doctrinal differences as that I was completely dissatisfied with the absence of a belief system. My parents adhered to God without ever allowing the influence to permeate the corners of their minds. I wanted more than that.

I also did not favor the hopes they had for me. They wanted me to be a slightly updated version of their rendition of the American pursuit. I was not very impressed with the American pursuit. It advertised great promise, with the fulfillment of a dream, but rarely delivered the goods. I went out looking for my own hope.

In our house, I always felt “love” was a word that was set off in an emotional parenthesis–assumed, as it were. I don’t want you to think I’m being critical of their choices. My parents were raised in an era when survival was much more important than hugs. So emotion was basically drained from the experience of affection, and intimacy was only expressed following moments of crisis.

Let me explain.My father passed away when I was seventeen. About three months before his death, realizing that he was terminal with cancer, he came in the room and tried to converse with me, ending our session by reaching over to tickle me. I was seventeen years old–not really “tickleable.” I pushed him away. As I look back on it now, it probably was a point of sadness to him. But the emotion of love does need to be expressed more frequently than when you’re afraid you’re dying.

So I pursued a “reborn” identity. I chose to be born again spiritually–in a way that my family would have considered to be over-wrought and overly involved with the Divine. I rejected working at the local retail store as a means of occupation and pursued the hope of being a writer and performer, even though I was qualified for neither. And with a very limited understanding of human sexuality, I went out to find love, experimenting with the ease and ability of a blind chemist.

It didn’t all go well. But I was satisfied with my choices.

I built a box for myself. It was still a box,. I was inhibited by my childhood fears, restricted by my family’s traditions and intimidated by my own insecurities. But I still stepped out and tried things. I did some things poorly; I did some things well.

But I got away.

It’s one of the first things you learn about Jesus of Nazareth. Had he never left the home fires and the carpenter’s shop, running away from his family (which pursued him to drag him back to his duty) we would have the story of a Galilean carpenter who found a new way to refinish wood, instead of a teacher who changed the world with the Golden Rule.

Unfortunately, many people never escape the box built for them. They live with their “born” identity, making excuses for their lacking while simultaneously being defensive over their choices.

Sooner or later, you have to build a box for yourself. It is the only definition that truly fits the  phrase “right of passage.” You have to find your own faith, you have to chase your own hopes and you have to define “love” for your world.

It is the box I built.

Yet one day I realized … it was still a box.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

%d bloggers like this: