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Channel: Joseph Sciambra: How Our Lord Jesus Christ Saved Me From Homosexuality, Pornography, and the Occult
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Few Are Chosen: Why Those With Same Sex Attraction Should Remain Chaste…and Single 

January 27, 2015, 8:09 am
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St. Josemaria Escriva, the greatest 20th Century commentator on the joys and sorrows of the modern Christian, once said this: “Marriage is for the soldiers and not for the General Staff of Christ’s army.” What did he mean? Those who are called to be closest to Christ have always been those who are unmarried. For example, when the Apostles ran and hid; who remained at the Cross? The widowed Blessed Virgin, the reformed party-girl and single-lady St. Mary Magdalene, and the unsullied and chaste St. John. For, those that Christ wanted nearest to Him, even during those humiliating last hours on the Cross – were not only invited to share in his limitless anguish and sorrow, and ultimate triumphant Resurrection, but also in His most intimate suffering. This is supremely evidenced in their lives, after the Death of Christ, of the three lone sentinels at the Cross: the Mother of God spending the rest of her days in relative solitude at Ephesus; Mary Magdalene retiring as a hermitess in France, and John surviving persecution, failed executions, and eventual imprisonment. It is my contention, that those who have experienced same-sex attraction are called to this same life of chastity, suffering, and sorrow. When I left the gay lifestyle and pornography, I very much took this to heart, although, in my case, I did nothing in those days according to what I knew or read, as I was completely ignorant as to all things concerning the Faith - I worked primarily by instinct: by some Grace from God that I never knew I had. Consequently, only a few months after appearing in my last porn film - I sat huddled inside a small cell at a remote French monastery. I prayed and I cried - I was shell-shocked, but, I kept saying to myself …I was alive; …I was alive. And, as I knew all too well - so many others were not. 
In the Orthodox Christian tradition, there is an overall emphasis on the necessity and inevitability of “blessed mourning” or penthos. In the Western Church we have a somewhat analogous custom mainly seen in devotions: The Stations of the Cross, The Precious Blood, the Sacred Heart of Jesus, Our Lady of Sorrows, and the Seven Dolores; and in our own time with the fervor for Christ as Divine Mercy. Yet, from the earliest days of the Church, even before the Great Schism, there was a profound appreciation of the redemptive power in Sorrow; for instance St. Maximus wrote: “Tears do not ask for pardon, but rather earn it.” The later spiritual writer Francisco De Osuna, the predecessor of the great Spanish mystics of the Counter-Reformation, found that: “It may even be that sadness caused by his [God‘s] absence pleases the Lord even more than happiness, for our grief at lack of something reveals our great love for it. If we were quickly consoled for a loss, that would be a sign that our love was slight, but intense sadness is evidence of intense love, as in the case of the Magdalen who in her weeping said repeatedly: ‘They have taken my Lord and I do not know where they have placed him.’” St. John of the Cross would follow with much the same sort of thinking, but specifically pointing to why this sadness overwhelms the penitent: “It will happen that the soul’s greatest suffering will be caused by the knowledge of its own miseries.” As the former libertine Mary Magdalene embraced the Christian life, she too sought a sorrowful path towards ultimate redemption. For, in her suffering, and in that longing to be fulfilled through Christ, she showed her overwhelming perseverance and boundless dedication. I too wanted to be like the Magdelene, so, during my stay in France - I wad a pilgrimage to her relics at Vezelay. There, I wept - for myself; for all the sins I has so willfully and stupidly committed; for those who could not be there - for the forgotten; and all those who had been butchered and betrayed. For them, and for my sanity, I had made this journey. 
Going back to the earliest Church Fathers, St. John Climacus, who lived in near isolation at then one of the most remote locations on Earth – Mt. Sinai, he wrote: “When our soul leaves this world we shall not be blamed for not having worked miracles, or for not having been theologians, or not having been rapt in divine visions. But we shall certainly have to give an account to God of why we have not ceaselessly mourned.” Around 1,400 years later, the Lord revealed the fruits of this mournful weeping to a simple and innocent Polish nun, He said: “You will save more souls through prayer and suffering than will a missionary through teachings and sermons alone.” Yet, how does this come about? He continued: “You must be annihilated, destroyed, living as if you were dead in the most secret depths of your being.” Soon after abandoning my self-imposed exile in France, and subsequent to drifting about a few other religious communities here in the US, I was handed “The Dairy of Divine Mercy.” Then, I knew that I was called to be a “missionary” of the interior life. For, as men and women, who have experienced same sex attraction, oftentimes from the depths of our earliest memories – we have known pain, confusion, and isolation. We have searched our hearts to understand these feelings, and this longing to comprehend occasionally drew a few of us closer to God; and, turned the rest against Him. For, we sympathized with the sufferings of Christ on the Cross, as we too had felt forsaken and alone; this is all intensified when we are among those who walked away from Him; because, when we return – we are like Peter, coming back to Christ where we weep bitterly (Matt 26:75). Yet, we are also much akin to Paul: “For I would that all men were even as myself: but every one hath his proper gift from God; one after this manner, and another after that. But I say to the unmarried, and to the widows: It is good for them if they so continue, even as I.” (1 Cor. 7:7-8). And, for those who suffer from same-sex attraction, herein are the two great lessons and directives from God: to spend our lives in reparation stripped of all artifice and deceptive hopes that linked us with our enslavement to homosexuality, and to serve wholeheartedly without encumbrance from the world.
Like those brave men and women who pray and sacrifice unceasingly behind the secluded walls of monasteries and convents, this is not an undemanding vocation, but our lot is even more difficult as we are destined to remain in the world, but also separate from it: watching the pain and sorrow of those still trapped in the gay lifestyle, feeling their anguish all over again – and, making amends for those “who do not believe…and do not hope.” For, if we do not pray for these poor souls; Who will? So it must be us; as we have been predestined to join an inner cloister of the one; there our lives must be dedicated to prayer. Then, and only then, do our lives make sense - as the past with its failures, the promise of hope in the present, and our power to change the future through sacrifice and prayer, will finally come together and redeem all. As Our Lady at Fatima said: “Pray, pray much and make sacrifices for sinners, for many souls go to hell because they have no one to pray and make sacrifices for them.” Now, as single men and women consecrated to Our Lord in chastity – we who have struggled and suffered with same-sex attraction are uniquely called and qualified to do this: as we have known the agony of homosexuality, have experienced its loneliness and felt the desolation and false allure of the gay lifestyle, survived to return to Our Lord, and then to dedicate the years we have left to personal sanctification, reparation for sins, and, most importantly, praying for those still lost. And, lastly to weep for those who are forgotten: “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.”

“For we, O Lord, are diminished more than any nation, and are brought low in all the earth this day for our sins. Neither is there at this time prince, or leader, or prophet, or holocaust, or sacrifice, or oblation, or incense, or place of first fruits before thee, That we may find thy mercy: nevertheless in a contrite heart and humble spirit let us be accepted. As in holocausts of rams, and bullocks, and as in thousands of fat lambs: so let our sacrifice be made in thy sight this day, that it may please thee: for there is no confusion to them that trust in thee.” (Dan. 3: 37-40)




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Temptation as the Road to Salvation

January 28, 2015, 2:45 pm
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Gay in the 1980s: Growing Up Under the Shadow of AIDS and How Generation X Condemned the Future to Death

January 29, 2015, 1:19 pm
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Growing up in the 1980s, as a boy thinking that you are gay, was often a day to day struggle with a vision of homosexuality that went from humorous and carefree, a flourishing in the 1970s Disco culture materialized in the well-muscled and tan boys of The Village People, that seemingly overnight went through a metamorphoses into the emaciated and sweaty Aidan Quinn in “An Early Frost.” Suddenly, it wasn’t hip or glamorous to be gay anymore; it was a death sentence. So, when I got to the Castro in 1988, I expected the place to be a ghost town. It wasn’t. Yet, it was a weird sort of submersion into a modern-day concentration camp: those that had been there the longest looked the worst: thin, sunken-faced, and spotted with sores; the relative newbies were nonetheless pumped from constant gym visits and still maintaining a sort of Tony Manero swagger that I recognized from my childhood idols. The younger boys, like me, were just plain scared. While we longed for a male embrace – we didn’t want to die for it. The overflowing bowls and boxes of free condoms, in every bar and bathhouse, gave a false but comforting feeling of safety. According to the CDC: “Human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) disease, and the related acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS), emerged as a leading cause of death among adults aged 25–44 in the United States in the 1980s, and the death rate for HIV disease among this age group increased steadily through the early 1990s. During the early years of HIV, there were few treatment options and mortality was high.” AIDS deaths peaked in 1995, when 43,115 people died. Yet, we partied on; we were like oblivious revelers boarding the Titanic after it was already at the bottom of the Atlantic.
As the 80s turned into the 90s, we all became rather tired of AIDS; and, we tried to make it go away in our own heads: with the reopening of numerous gay bathhouses around the City, after they were closed at the height of the crisis, and tried to force the collective conscious of the country to other inflated and pressing gay issues – for instance, the ridiculous replacement of the AIDS movie-of-the-week by the phenomena of weepy stories surrounding the tag-line “…I was thrown out of the military, because I am gay.” At near the height of the AIDS epidemic, when thousands of us were dying, all one heard was “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Later, when deaths dramatically declined, because of antiviral cocktails, AIDS slipped further back into the gay mind – becoming a sort of Dark Age epoch in the history of homosexual freedom – that ugly period between the triumphs of 60s and 70s accomplishments, epitomized by Stonewall and Harvey Milk, and this new era of renaissance freedom; for, they already had their eyes on the prize - and it was gay marriage. But, now, that the piles of body bags have been removed; what did we learn?
After the horror of the late-80s and early-90s, the gay community was in a very special place: a rare moment in history when everything could have changed. But, did we have the foresight, or the courage; or the humility. We could have admitted that the gay male experiment failed; that a world without women, a world of total and complete sexual freedom, was not possible. Only, we didn’t do that, still blinded – we forged ahead, never addressing the desperation and mania which caused the loss of so many. Now, according to the CDC: “Projections have shown that if current trends continue, half of all gay and bisexual men will be HIV-positive by age 50.” In addition: “While estimates show that men who have sex with men (MSM) comprise only about 2% of the U.S. population, this group accounts for most new HIV infections (63% in 2010). Between 2008 and 2010, annual new HIV infections increased 12% among MSM…Younger MSM (ages 13-24) are at particular risk. In 2010, this group accounted for 1 in 5 (19%) of all new HIV infections and 30% of new infections among all MSM.” This is what we left behind, the inherence of death. 


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St. Raphael as the Vanquisher of Gay Demons

January 30, 2015, 1:19 pm
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In the Book of Tobit, there is an interesting description of the troubles caused by the demon Asmodeus: for, he has killed seven men betrothed to a beautiful woman named Sara daughter of Raguel; who is now promised to Tobit. In this instance, Asmodeus is taken with Sara, therefore, he quickly dispatches with every groom before consummation in order to keep her for himself. This creates a sort of twisted dynamic – akin to the contemporary phenomena of commitment-phobia, erectile dysfunction in young males, and homosexuality, where modern men mistrust women and purposefully avoid them. According to Aleister Crowley and other demonologists, Asmodeus is the protector male homosexuals. With regards to Tobit, fearing for his life, Tobit prays to God for assistance: in His mercy – the Father sends St. Raphael. With his guidance, Tobit and Sara are finally freed from demonic persecution.

The Novena Prayer to Saint Raphael (must be said for nine consecutive days)
Glorious Archangel Saint Raphael,
great prince of the heavenly court,
you are illustrious
for your gifts of wisdom and grace.
You are a guide of those who journey
by land or sea or air,
consoler of the afflicted,
and refuge of sinners.
I beg you,
assist me in all my needs
and in all the sufferings of this life,
as once you helped
the young Tobias on his travels.
Because you are the medicine of God,
I humbly pray you to heal the many infirmities
of my soul and the ills that afflict my body.
I especially ask of you the favor
(Make your request here...)
and the great grace of purity
to prepare me to be the temple of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.

St. Raphael,
of the glorious seven
who stand before the throne of Him
who lives and reigns,
Angel of health,
the Lord has filled your hand
with balm from heaven
to soothe or cure our pains.
Heal or cure the victim of disease.
And guide our steps when doubtful of our ways.



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Bruce Jenner: The Continuing Curse of the Kardashians

January 31, 2015, 10:55 am
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In my experience, pornographic infestations are rarely isolated to one individual; although the locus of demonic activity is usually focused upon one person – nevertheless, the whole family is affected. In the case of the Kardashians, the central figure is Kim: whose carefully orchestrated porn film leak brought with it world renowned fame and fortune. Since then, everyone around her has been swept up; most recently little half-sister Kendall Jenner who started a teenage fashion career by immediately going topless; most disturbingly wearing a near naked dominatrix outfit (see heavily censored image above) on a fashion show runway while her demented mother looked on from the front row and gleamed with pride. Apparently, the next victim is the father of Kendall, Olympian Bruce Jenner. Over the past few months, there have been continuing reports of his deliberate transition from male to female. This shows dramatic evidence of how deeply ingrained the demonic becomes within a family that opens itself up to the evils of pornography: sexual perversity, pedophilia, and transsexuality. Nothing becomes off-limits. Sadly, this spectacle is no longer relegated to the decadent environs of Hollywood – as evidenced in the American “cougar” phenomena of overly-sexed-out middle-class mothers reliving their lost childhoods and dressing like a 1980s Madonna while jealously sleeping with their daughter’s boyfriends. As a result, we are now living with the human costs: children raised with no moral framework becoming prey to the corruptions of pop-culture, pornography, and the rising incidence of adolescent homosexuality and transvestism, the call for gender-neutral grammar school lavatories, and the strange cases of pre-teen “sexting” and juvenile child pornographers.





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The Gay Sex Secret Homosexuals Want No One to Know

February 3, 2015, 2:21 pm
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As stated in a featured research article presented at Microbicides 2010, The International Conference on Microbicides: “In the United States alone, receptive anal intercourse is practiced in up to 90 percent of gay and other men who have sex with men, according to International Rectal Microbicides Advocates.” Because of this fact, HIV in the US has become primarily a problem centered on homosexual men; with over 60% of new infections among gay males. According the CDC: “Unprotected anal sex is a high-risk practice for HIV infection, with receptive anal sex having the highest risk. Unprotected anal sex also places MSM (men who have sex with men) at risk for other sexually transmitted infections such as syphilis, chlamydia, and gonorrhea. Although condoms can reduce the risk for HIV transmission, they do not eliminate risk and often are not used consistently. Some MSM attempt to decrease their HIV risk by engaging in unprotected sex only with partners perceived to have the same HIV status as their own. However, this practice is risky, especially for HIV-negative MSM, because MSM with HIV might not know or disclose that they are infected and men's assumptions about the HIV status of their partners can be wrong.” Regarding condom use by gay men, a study published in the medical journal “Clinics in Colon and Rectal Surgery” found that: “Condoms protect against HIV but are ineffective in preventing the transmission of many other STIs that spread by skin-to-skin contact. A condom doesn't cover the base of the shaft, pubic region, or scrotum, which are all places STIs can reside and spread during intimate contact. Moreover, condoms are often put on just for penetration and many STIs pass during foreplay when close contact or other types of sex occur…Patients may also insert dangerous objects into their rectum for erotic stimulation. In addition to the inherent risks of tearing, perforation, or losing the object, patients must also be aware of the risk of STIs that can spread when partners share toys. It is not uncommon for MSM to use (and occasionally abuse) enemas for hygiene or autoerotic activity. These practices and others may perforate or tear the delicate tissues in the anus and rectum…”  

Author’s note: Anal sex is always painful the first few times; as the passive partner, you are inevitably tense, nervous, and anxious. Yet, in the gay male community, this becomes all a part of the initiation ceremony; a rite into manhood usually performed by an older and more experienced male. Blood typically accompanies this practice; heightening the pseudo-occultist experience of blood-brotherhood; also, hence the extremely high rates of continuing HIV infections among gay males. As one physician explained: “Physiologically, the anus is not designed for penetration by any hard object. As a protective reflex action, the anal sphincter tightens ordinarily if stimulated. Any attempt at penile insertion can be distressing, even if done slowly and gradually…The lining [mucus membrane] of the rectum is very thin, tears easily, does not heal fast and therefore is vulnerable to infections. Also, the tears can enlarge to a fissure or a crack. These are painful and slow to heal. There is also a possibility that a fistula could open up, allowing feces to re-route into the abdominal cavity…This can cause serious surgical complications. One may lose control over the anal sphincter causing continuous involuntary leakage of fecal matter. There is also the increased risk of hemorrhoids, which are quite uncomfortable. Rectal prolapse—wherein the walls of the rectum protrude through the anus and hence become visible outside the body—is another surgical emergency that is seen resulting out of anal intercourse.” The very real incidence of anal trauma in gay men recently compelled several public and professional medical organizations, including the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene, the Department of HIV Medicine in London (UK) and The American Society of Colon Rectal Surgeons, to call for further studies and to issue directives warning members and other healthcare researchers and professionals: in New York City, the rampant rise of unprotected anal sex among the cities’ gay male population; the incidence of patients suffering injury from an aggressive form of anal intercourse combined with drug use at one UK hospital; and the curious rise in Proctitis among American gay men.
In the pre-HIV era, the various gastrointestinal and rectal maladies in male homosexuals seen by physicians and proctologists were collectively referred to as “gay bowel syndrome.” I experienced this first hand, as the constant ritual of anal cleansing, douching, enemas, and penetration, caused the already naturally dry and thin-skinned rectum to become perpetually red, irritated, and swollen. Diarrhea was a relentless affliction; some rather active gay men who otherwise were beautifully muscular and apparently healthy-looking took to wearing diapers - especially during intense work-outs or weight-lifting scissions at the gym, as the increased pressure often caused abnormal leakage. Visits to a San Francisco proctologist were frequent, and his waiting room, crowded with other gay men, sometimes turned into a place to meet and talk as there was always someone I knew - also there waiting to see the doctor. Though, not everyone with this secret problem was single and adventurous; one such friend - a sincere guy who had been in a monogamous relationship for a couple of years, was continuously left with painful anal fissures. After I left the lifestyle, and went back home, my smaller town doctor still knew of my past - as soon as he saw the ravages of what had been my backside. By then, my hemorrhoids were protruding severely - and thus began a few years of one painful surgery after another. During that time, I was constantly walking about with suppositories, frequently with embarrassing stains soaking through my pants, my underwear had to be continually bleached to remove blood stains, and I stunk from fecal matter seeping out. It was a little foreshadowing of purgatory – and, I kept saying to myself: “It hadn’t been worth it.”
In the 1990s, there was pressure from the gay political power brokers for medical journals and doctors to abandon the term gay bowel syndrome altogether; a rather insignificant occurrence, yet, it does reveal an underling ambition among those who wanted to see a more normalized public perception of gay male sex; and, as one attorney argued, in front of the Supreme Court, there was once “an incorrect understanding that gay couples were fundamentally different than straight couples.” Only, they are “fundamentally different;” as heterosexual sex in marriage does not result in a higher rate of injury and disease.

Thorough information report regarding the peculiar physical abnormalities in gay men caused by homosexual sex; from the National Health Service of the UK:
http://www.sandyford.org/media/38074/msm%20ceg%20june%202014.pdf

An interesting article from the University of Hawaii:
http://www.hawaii.edu/hivandaids/Sexual_Trauma_Associated_with_Fisting_and_Recreational_Drugs.pdf



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Healing Sexual Wounds Takes Time

February 4, 2015, 3:05 pm
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From a footnote in “The Ladder of Divine Ascent” by St. John Climacus; Translated by Archimandrite Lazarus Moore (Harper & Brothers, 1959) ~ “Obviously heresy is the greatest of sins. But since the passion of fornication has a tyrannical power due to pleasure and attracts attention, it often causes men to fall after repentance…By the practice of a strict life, fornicators are trained to forget the pleasure of lust. For whereas the evil of heresy lies only in the mind, the passion of fornication also affects the body with corruption. The man who repents of heresy is at once cleansed by turning to God with his whole personality. But one who returns to God from fornication usually needs time and tears and fasting to get rid of the pleasure and heal the wound in his flesh and stabilize his mind.”

Author’s note: This moves to the heart of what I have come to understand; after years of hoping and praying for an immediate “cure;” to end once and for all every temptation of the flesh; that desires would no longer haunt my memory. Yet, the road to salvation goes by way of Calvary and the Via Dolorosa – we forget that there was a Good Friday before there was ever an Easter Sunday. For Christ, this took three days – for us: it may take a lifetime. Therefore, we shouldn’t get impatient; or worst of all – angry with God. Instead, we must embrace the Cross; not as a burden, but as something ultimately in God’s plan.  



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St. Francis: Trial Unites Us to Christ

February 5, 2015, 11:59 am
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“I tell you in all truth, no one must consider himself a servant of God until he has undergone temptations and tribulations. Temptations overcome is in a way a ring with which the Lord espouses the soul of his servant to himself.” ~ St. Francis of Assisi

Author’s note: When we are racked with temptations, especially those of the flesh, we can go in either two directions: the pain of the desire brings us closer to God, or, we are overcome and surrender our bodies over to the flesh. When we resist, our relationship with Christ grows; for example, I have friends that I have been through some pretty tough times with; they were with me when I was very physically ill; when I was tormented, and, when I found solace in Christ. The bond with these comrades surpasses any sort of relationship I have with others, though they may be very kind, and generous souls – we have not been through the fire together. The same thing goes with Our Lord: for, when we truly reveal ourselves to Him, and allow Him to share in our agony – He becomes less distant, less nebulous, and more infinite and all-encompassing in our reality and experience. If we keep God at a distance, refuse to share our innermost ordeals with Him, or become embarrassed or secretive in prayer or during Confession – He will merely be a pleasant acquaintance; someone you send a Christmas card to; or infrequently share pleasantries at parties or while passing in and out of church; for Him to become your spouse, you must give and sacrifice all for His stake; and for your own. 



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Joseph Sciambra Returns to West Hollywood

February 10, 2015, 11:06 am
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The Final Unholy Marriage of Porn and Pop-Culture: Miley Cyrus, the Philosopher, and the Pornography Festival

February 11, 2015, 2:16 pm
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Quentin Jones is not your everyday pornographer: first of all, she is a female – part of a new generation of women porn-pushers, who grew up in a post-Madonna world; she is also educated – graduating from Cambridge University with a degree in Philosophy, and, she is extremely articulate – her interviews are filled with references to Art History and theories of fashion and design. Her well-spoken British personality and persona contrasts sharply with the sleazy, greedy, and semi-nefarious past and present male porn king-pins symbolized by Americans Bobby Hollander and Steven Hirsch. And, for this reason, Jones is all the more dangerous: for, she comes across as an avant-garde bon vivant, not as your stereotypical pervert. Recently, she worked with Miley Cyrus on a highly conceptualized music video featuring BDSM that is actually nothing more than a pretentious quickie porn flick masquerading as high-Art. Making her handles somewhat hysterical, Cyrus entered, and then mysteriously withdrew, the video from a New York porn fest. All of that is somewhat irrelevant considering Cyrus had played the film during her concerts and a version of it is already on YouTube; overall, the film is derivative of Madonna’s “Justify My Love” from two decades before. Now, for the most part, because of Madonna, and because of the success experienced by such films as “9½ Weeks,” “Basic Instinct” and “Wild Things,” our complacency as a society has created a culture with no boundaries – a morbid sort of fluidity from the so-called main-stream to the pornographic; where flashing the camera can turn a B-actress into a star or an ingénue into the lead; it’s “All About Eve” gone berserk; and, a generation of woman (and highly over-sexed and or confused men) have been raised on it. Consequently, for all intents and purposes, there is currently little, beyond the criminal, which is forbidden. For that reason, society has paid a heavy price: the middle-class explosion of child-porn arrests, the curious rise of clinical depression, and the horrific phenomena of children sexually abusing other children.



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Taking Porn Addiction to the Edge: Sometimes You Fall and Never Return

February 12, 2015, 12:49 pm
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When I was a kid, like a lot of boys, I was fascinated with cliffs, edges, and all sorts of precipices. I would run to the wall or railing at the top of buildings or next to the canyon’s rim. Like the Victorian painting by Maxfield Parrish – there was a certain exhilaration in being so close to oblivion; grasping at it, you feel like you control your own destiny – as if we become almost one with the elements: the wind, the sky, the rocks. Yet, as children, we are reckless and disregard the danger. When I was older, I continued to push things towards the limit – as a former child porn addict, I was now a stunt-double in the sexual realm: first, getting into the sickest fringes of legal porn, and, then, reenacting what I saw in my own life. Pretty soon, I was approaching the jumping off point. But, like the cerebral thinker in Caspar David Friedrich’s masterpiece – “Wanderer above the sea of fog,” I clung to a rather romantic image of myself – as a rebellious artist breaking new ground in the form of erotic adventurism. It was all a lie – a notion not based on anything lofty, but merely upon Madonna’s porno-coffee table book “Sex.” Increasingly, I could only dance on that teetering line for so long – and then I went over. Taking pity upon me, the Lord scooped me up.
As a reformed porn addict, at times, I feel myself doing the same dance I did 20 years ago: how close can I get without falling; in other words – I can look at that, and it won’t affect me; the music video with the barley dressed singer, I can handle it; the TV commercial of the young woman with the jiggling breasts, I don’t need to turn away or switch the channel – I can put it out of my mind, or the shirtless beautiful man jogging down the street – I can do a double take. Suddenly, we are playing a balancing game; and, then, we fall. Experience has taught me: stand back, be safe, and never tempt the power of gravity – or the power of our own minds. Be wary, sometimes that fall you take – could be your last.



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50 Shades Actress From Hollywood Family of Twisted Sex Victims

February 12, 2015, 2:26 pm
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Dakota Johnson, the starring actress in the BDSM porn film masquerading as a main-stream erotic-thriller “50 Shades of Grey” is the daughter of Hollywood actors Don Johnson and Melanie Griffith. Her father, first got significantly noticed in 1975 when he appeared in the then soft-core sci-fi film “A Boy and His Dog;” the film is now famous for a scene in which semen is extracted from Johnson by female scientists; after the movie’s release, Johnson was living with soon to be murdered gay actor Sal Mineo. Griffith, the daughter of Hitchcock star Tippi Hedren, first appeared naked on screen at age 17 in three films all released during year 1975; and again, in 1977, she appeared in a picture that featured extensive full frontal nudity. Oddly, Don Johnson, early in his career, would appear with the mother of his future wife in the creepy sexploitation film “The Harrad Experiment:” a highly influential movie, featuring a then shocking amount of nudity, about coed dorms and free love. The parents of Dakota lived together when Johnson was 23 and Griffith was 15; they married when Griffith turned 18; both have battled drug and alcohol addictions. Not surprisingly, they have also had numerous marriages and affairs. Most shockingly, in her gut-wrenching autobiography, former child-star Tatum O’Neal revealed that an 18 year old Griffith coerced her, when she was only 12, into joining her at a drug fueled orgy. 



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1980s Porn Super-Star Shauna Grant: In Life and Death

February 13, 2015, 8:11 am
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Colleen Applegate (aka Shauna Grant) 1963-1984.
Author’s note: The decision to show this picture on my blog was not one made lightly; for, its ugly and disturbing: the self-inflicted bullet hole can be clearly seen near Colleen’s temple; and her condition was such that she had to be intubated and kept alive by a respirator. This image, combined with some of the gorgeous photographs, taken of Colleen during her short career, serve as powerful contrasts - revealing the deception of porn through its seemingly beauty, and the reality of its evil; also, this goes to heart of our own complacency as a society, and how we [the porn viewer] are ultimately responsible for the countless other deaths in the pornography industry. As an aside, this image also appeared in the excellent 1987 PBS Frontline documentary “Death of a Porn Queen.” 



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In an Age of Sexual Excess – Understanding the Twisted, Sick, and Perverted

February 14, 2015, 11:47 am
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In an age of excess, when once sexual perversities – such as bondage, homosexuality, and three-some are slowly becoming a part of the main-stream American culture, it’s difficult for those outside the realm of the pop-mind-benders to understand how and why others are so fully and swiftly swayed by the seemingly sick twists of a civilization clearly lost in the sleazy glamour of its own decline. Using myself as an example, when I first walked into the Castro District of San Francisco in 1988, I was not prepared to delve into such abnormalities as BDSM or gang-bangs, yet, I had been somewhat primed for it: as a child of the great post-1960s sexual revelation, that saw its full flowering in the decadent disco era of the late-70s, sexual expression – of an even openly deviant type, was not shocking to me: I had grown up watching the often tasteless sex gags on “Three’s Company,” the constant jiggling on “Charlie’s Angels,” and the boundless celebration of hedonism with Hugh Hefner’s yearly ABC roller-skating and pajama party specials. That had laid the groundwork; on top – as a twisted, but consenting adult, more and more perversity entered my mind: usually in the form of porn, music, and an overall openness to all forms of sexuality. This can be hyper-realized in such progressive locals as New York City, Los Angeles and Hollywood, and San Francisco. Again, this is gradual – fortified in our heads by keeping like-minded company: dancing at clubs, attending main-stream films that push the boundaries (in my generation – this was epitomized by the success of “Basic Instinct) and parlaying our sexual visions into an all-encompassing political ideology. Suddenly, after a few years of this – nothing looks peculiar anymore; or off-limits. Then you are capable of accepting, and doing, almost anything. For, you have become immune, numbed, and rather shell-shocked. You have been traumatized, only – you don’t really know it; since the exposure to sexual material goes all the way back to childhood, it feels normal. Only, it’s affected you profoundly. Like myself – eventually, you find yourself doing things you never would have imagined. 



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The Real 50 Shades of Grey - From Someone Who Lived It.

February 16, 2015, 12:19 pm
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For the most part, I have found the phenomena surrounding the book and film “50 Shades of Grey” to swerve between the laughable and the alarming. Laughable - because the world of BDSM as depicted in 50 Shades has nothing to do with the reality. 50 Shades descended from the pop-market romance books aimed as frustrated and naive middle-class housewives; it has merely twisted the endless tableaus of the virginal woman ritually initiated into sex by various fantastical pirates, Vikings, or knights, usually through force - that somehow turns into pleasure, into something far kinkier with the ability to shock the sheltered and the juvenile. Like those books, it is a pornographic daydream, yet, 50 Shades draws on a more contemporary world, that of modern sado-masochism, than the historical dime-store novels of the past. And, herein lays the danger. For, the dark world of BDSM is all too real; for the most part - it is populated by a realm of sick and psychotic people; the first big lie - as depicted in the book - no one ever submits to bondage slavery, as the girl did in 50 Shades, the first time out. It usually begins with an exposure to bondage porn; the soft-core stuff: light whipping by a loving couple, tying each other to the bedposts, handcuffs. Later, there is sometimes sicker  forms of experimentation; if one is so inclined - generally because of past sexual trauma: incest, child abuse, rape, the fractured seek to resolve the shock through reenactment. For instance, when I was a small boy, an older teenage girl urinated on me - beyond my understanding - I also went back to that same scenario. And, as an adult, when I allowed those things to happen to me: it wast sexy, it didn’t turn me on, it didn’t solve anything - except, it made me feel like a little boy again, and maybe, just maybe, it helped me to believe that I wasn’t the only one. Because, I didn’t want to be the only one. 

An excerpt from my book “Swallowed by Satan” - this the real world of BDSM:

My experience with the pornographic shoot left me numb, but
otherwise oddly unharmed. When your conscious moral self is reduced
to a mere speck, nothing much disturbs you. For this reason, I fell back
into the leather S&M universe. But instead of being the abuser, I now
wished to only be the abused. With this in mind, I found that most gay
men as they age tend towards either becoming “daddy” types, who other
young and naive gay men must pass through and be instructed by, in
order to enter the realm of male on male sex, or a salivating troll that
hits on anything with a penis. There are rarely shades of gray between
the two extremes.
Now, I was quickly nearing thirty, and my days as the hot and
impressionable young stud were long over. Since gay culture and pornography
developed simultaneously, they share many of the same attributes.
As the gay man ages and passes into servitude, porn stars also wear out
their usefulness, and slip silently out of the business, or they surrender
completely and accept whatever second chance, no matter how
degrading, they are offered. When hearing about a proposed live pornographic
art piece, that was really just a grandiose excuse for exhibitionism,
being acted out at a local leather sex club, I made it well-known
that I was definitely interested. But this time, I did not wear the SS
uniform, but a collar and leash.
A group of us got together on the given night at the club. We
changed in the locker-room area and then proceeded to the so-called
dungeons. Since I was one of the passive men, I spent most of the
evening on my knees or on all fours. One man kept holding the chain
which was linked to the collar around my neck. From time to time, he
would tug on it and my entire upper body jerked to the side. Through
the wall of bodies, I saw something being forced into the anus of another
man. At first, I looked away and went back to focusing on what I was
doing. Then I saw the object again. What was that? Abruptly, the chain
pulled me back to my master. I disobeyed, and looked again. It appeared
out of the ordinary to me, but I could not see clearly. Then I recognized
what it was: a crucifix. Although, I disregarded Jesus years ago, I was still
horrified. But I did nothing. I just went back to my own task. I knew the
real crazies in the punishment and leather scenes hated most forms of
organized religion, but especially Catholicism for its strident stance
against homosexual behavior. Strangely, I found out that most of these
guys were ex-Catholics. For this reason, they always had a perverse
predisposition for including some sort of religious desecration in their
more elaborate sexual routines.
To begin with, I knew the main theme of the display would be
“watersports.” As a younger man I saw this activity and frequently
participated, but I always found it semi-revolting. The first time I ever
took part in watersports was at one of the notorious Folsom Street Fairs
held every September in San Francisco. I remember during one of my
first Summers, after starting college, a group of us went to Folsom with
the intent of just gawking at the freaks and not with any desire to join
in. When we arrived, at first, I thought the atmosphere was comically
routine, with bare-bottomed men being paddled and hairy bears walking
about in tight thongs. Then, I was pleasantly surprised to find some of
the revelers having sex in the nearby portable toilets. One eager looking
and anemically thin newbie beckoned me to follow him into one of the
plastic outhouses. We started having sex, but soon an impatient
onlooker opened the door allowing several people outside to take a peek
and capture some quickly focused snap-shots. Afterward, the guy asked
me to urinate on him, which I happily obliged. This was the ultimate
power trip, to use someone, wipe yourself off on them, and then walk
away.
Now, I was the one being used. After years of sexual indiscretion, all
that was left within myself was hate: hate for other men, hate for my life,
and hate for the world. When all you have is hate, the only thing that
can satisfy you is the pure sickness of evil. When there is no God in your
heart, good becomes repulsive. Here, I wanted to authentically follow
Crowley by embracing the gruesome and the hideous. Then, over time,
I would come to love all that once nauseated me. I knew that what I
would be drinking upon was the darkness of hell. That night, I thought
I could quench every thirst. All I could hear in my head was the hypnotized
man saying, “Hhheeellllll.”
The dominant men, put the three passive guys, including myself, in
a line and then took turns relieving themselves in our mouths. One of
them said to me, open-wide. My face stung. Years before, I never thought
I could have fallen this low. But I didn’t have a choice. Once, I headed
down the slopping road of damnation, I could not stop, or even slow
down the onrushing velocity. They had prepared my walking remains for
the final immolation. I was on the altar, the knife was raised, and I was
ready to go.



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Children of Same-Sex Couples More Mentally Ill

February 17, 2015, 10:56 am
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A study utilizing data from The National Health Interview Survey (NHIS) has found that: “higher child emotional problems may be a persistent feature of same-sex parent families.” The NHIS is the principal source of public health information about the United States population. Since 1957 the United States Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Center for Health Statistics has annually interviewed between 35,000 and 40,000 households, collecting data on 75,000 to 100,000 individuals comprising a nationally representative sample of the civilian noninstitutionalized population of the United States. The present study examines combined 1997- 2013 NHIS data, consisting of information on 1,598,006 persons, including 207,007 sample children.
The results: on the Strengths and Difficulties Questionnaire (SDQ), children in same-sex families were over twice (2.1 times) as likely, at 9.3%, to be rated above the cutoff for emotional or behavioral difficulties than were children in opposite-sex families, at 4.4%. Likewise, same-sex parents or informants reported that their children experienced “definite” or “severe” emotional problems over twice (2.3 times) as often as did opposite-sex parents or informants. For the most restrictive test, which is both high SDQ and directly reported serious emotional problems, the proportion of children with emotional difficulties in same-sex families drops to only 6.3%, but the comparative proportion in opposite-sex families drops even more, to 2.1%, with the result that the risk ratio for same-sex families is even higher (2.9).

Link to original report:
http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2500537



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Lost Little Boys: Why the Gay World Leaves Everyone Unsatisfied

February 18, 2015, 3:58 pm
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Seminal moments in our lives often come at the most inexplicable times, and in situations that seem otherwise fleeting and meaningless. One such incident took place during a rather sadly routine visit to a well-known West Hollywood cruising area; in the gay world, there are certain locals which are known by other gay men as ripe targets for picking up other gay men for quick sex – usually taking the anonymous couples down nearby dark alleyways or into parked cars for nameless trysts. One such night, I went cruising through the parking lot next to an adult bookstore right off of Santa Monica Blvd. Darting in between the shadows, I could see the formless shapes of various men – faces and figures were difficult or impossible to make-out. For a while, I stood back, nearer the cross street and the glow of the lights. Several older men approached me, but I enjoyed refusing their advances; their compliments, and their money. The rush of power from rejecting them – was the greatest elixir. Then, I noticed someone whom I thought I knew, but it couldn’t be; less than a year before I had met my idol when I once tagged along with a friend of mine who had broken into the more illustrious world of LA gay porn; as for myself, all my endeavors in Hollywood had always come to naught, and, I was perpetually relegated to an occasional appearance in a fetish film shot inside some creepy San Francisco apartment house or hotel room. At first, from a distance, that evening in the crowded nightclub, I admired the source of my wonderment – the reigning king of gay porn: Joey Stefano. Later on, that same night, I got to chat with him and finally fulfilled a dream. Yet, that meeting, in hindsight, was far from elevating. While I still had stars in my eyes, Joey had seen just how famous a gay kid could become and just how far a porn star could go – and, he was left profoundly unsatisfied. I was bemused.
Back on the street; there he was again. But, what was Joey Stefano doing in this parking lot? The wealthiest closeted gay power-brokers in Hollywood would pay to be with him; why was he here? In a way, I was embarrassed for him – I didn’t want to approach him, but I had to. He didn’t remember me; I wasn’t hurt or surprised. While I was stone cold-sober, faceless perversity was my drug; he seemed to be swimming through some invisible haze. For myself, it was the thrill of the hunt and the chase, Joey – well, he was already wasted and through with running. Later on, I thought about it; during that particular time period, I was absurdly obsessed with Marilyn Monroe – I read almost every trashy biography about her. In several, it was mentioned that, towards the end of her life, she became incredibly promiscuous: picking up strangers – from the cabbies who drove her around to the construction workers remodeling her new home. The most desirable woman on earth could be yours for the asking. This got me thinking about Joey, because in the early-1990s – he was the gay male version. In my eyes – he had it all: fame, money, a cadre of adoring fans, and a place of admiration within the gay community. Whatever ghosts that had haunted his childhood – he had overcome them. Or, had he?
In the gay world, there are many avenues of seeming salvation: acceptance on a level that no little excluded sissy boy ever experienced in his over-bullied life; the liberty to express all of those shame-filled inner feelings of emotions that you spent years trying to deny and suppress; and, the men who will be your surrogate father – they will even let you call them “daddy” during sex. Once you have it all – everything will be okay. Right? Only, it isn’t. You are still you; the pains of an angry childhood are still the same, and, the free expression, the comradery, and the sex somehow leave you feeling empty; you still want more – only, you don’t know exactly what you need. Then, after finding the perfect lover, friend, husband – you end up back in the same X-rated video stores, the same public toilets, the same cruising spots: looking for the something you missed. You can’t find it. You spend your life chasing a phantom – then, the dead only die lonely. About a year later, Joey left this existence searching for one last instant of mind numbing black-out – dying HIV+ of a drug overdose in a seedy Hollywood motel.



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Catholic Saint Predicts the Rise of AIDS – Over 100 Years Ago

February 19, 2015, 10:38 am
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In describing a dream in which he had a vision of various young men who had been taken over by the sin of lust, St. John Bosco (1815-1888) said: “I saw another throng of boys, but not the countless number as at the beginning of the dream. Formerly very handsome, they now appeared ugly, sullen, and covered with hideous sores, and they walked about with great melancholy as if stooped or wasted by age. No one spoke.” 



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Better Off Without a Catholic School Education?

February 19, 2015, 1:10 pm
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Recently, Archbishop Cordileone of San Francisco presented teachers at the archdiocese’s four high schools with a statement that says Catholic school employees are expected to conduct their public lives in a way that doesn’t undermine or deny the church’s doctrine. The statement outlines the church’s teaching that using contraception is a sin and that sex outside of marriage, whether it is in the form of adultery, masturbation, pornography or gay sex, is “gravely evil.” As a toxic byproduct of the huggable Jesus era that made-up the sordid history of the 1970s and 80s form of American Catholic education, a time and a group of “Catholic” thinker and educators who overall sought to make Christ more of a man than a God; it all went berserk when, in a good-intentioned, but misguided effort to re-create God into an approachable and lovable being, stripped of meaning and devoid of judgments or punishments, they created Frankensteinian generations of Catholic boys and girls who found it had all become sorely irrelevant. Rudderless, most of us left the Church we never even knew – drifted into relativism, the New Age, cohabitation, and homosexuality. As for myself, after 12 years of parochial education – I had never cracked open a Bible, yet I knew the lyrics to several Simon and Garfunkel songs, taught to us by a smiling, but otherwise uninspiring recently un-habited sister/teacher. In high school, early on – I got an intense crash course into Liberation Theology and then opted-out of “religion” courses in favor of some public service projects.
In my case, it wasn’t so much about a perversion of Catholic doctrine, but a tyrannical reign of mind-bending through silence. Nothing was said. Issues of morality, most implicitly sex – which is always at the forefront of every thought in a pubescent boy, were never even mentioned. What did the Bible say; what had Jesus taught; and what about the Church? Why did it matter; and why should we listen? With all of these questions unaddressed and unanswered – the mind is left to make sense of everything on its own. As a child, we instinctively turn to what’s most familiar – with regards to those with same-sex attraction, we look towards the comforting and affirming figures in pop-culture; then, in the 70s – the pool was limited to The Village People, some soap-opera characters, and, then, in the 80s – the all-encompassing and liberating force of Madonna; now, with the proliferation of gay culture – the possibilities are near endless. At that point, a new god, and a new doctrine enter the lives of the uneducated and the ill-formed. For, it’s much easier to go with the deities that accept and support your every feeling, rather than the true God who Loves you enough to tell the Truth. And, in that sense, many Catholic schools, by choosing not to reveal the fullness of God’s plans for everyone, have especially primed some to not only disregard Christianity, but to embrace an ideology and a lifestyle that very well may kill them.

A form of education that ignores or marginalizes the moral and religious dimension of the person is a hindrance to full education, because “children and young people have a right to be motivated to appraise moral values with a right conscience, to embrace them with a personal adherence, together with a deeper knowledge and love of God.” That is why the Second Vatican Council asked and recommended “all those who hold a position of public authority or who are in charge of education to see to it that youth is never deprived of this sacred right.” ~ Vatican Letter on Catholic Education, “Religious Education in Schools Fits Into the Evangelizing Mission of the Church” (2009)



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How a Fleeting Moment of Pop-Culture Perversity Can Change a Life

February 20, 2015, 1:22 pm
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Our lives are filled with images, sounds, and various sensations. In the current technological age, daily existence is overloaded with a constant stream of information and sensory stimulation – most of it falling into the background: an endless din of useless chatter. Occasionally, something from that miasma will stop us, and we pay attention; sometimes this happens collectively to the entire world – the most recent example: the twerking exhibitionism of Miley Cyrus at the MTV Awards; now, it’s part of the national consciousness – although the full effects of what happened will not be felt for years.
In my own life, probably the greatest pop-culture moment took place in 1979, when ABC televised a Playboy Bunny Roller Skating Pajama Party – this climax of 70s discoism took every fad of that era and combined them into one all-encompassing high-point of epic hedonism; at the center of it all: my boyish daydream – Dorothy Stratten, who had less than a year to live. In that program: sex, fame, and pleasure became one. To a child, it all seemed perfectly attainable. It was a pornographic fantasy come to life. It was dazzlingly beautiful. For many years, it remained the ideal: that freedom through the flesh was the ultimate goal.
As a teen, the second most powerful image to enter my brain was from the new media of the music video; indescribably influential at the time, their social impact can only be compared to the introduction of motion pictures and then the affordability of home televisions. MTV became the glowing altar from which every teenager focused their undivided attention; and, Madonna became its first high-priestess. My favorite: her music video for the single “Like a Virgin;” with its competing imagery of the sacred and the profane, the high and the sleazy, Madonna single-handedly ushered in the age of main-stream pop-porn. Her dance on the front of a Venetian gondola, rosary dangling between her bosoms, was pornography as art; the crass and the corrupt masquerading as myth.
Finally, by the time Hollywood rolled out the film “Basic Instinct” in 1992, I was no longer that damaged little boy – but, an equally damaged man. As a kid, pop-culture had been the greatest influence on my life – I could remember the lyrics to countless forgotten one-hit-wonders, but not a single hymn. Madonna was my Madonna. I was the child raised on lies: of free sex with no consequence, perversity without payback, and a singular belief and confidence in my own sense of direction. Therefore, when Sharon Stone flashed the camera, many were shocked – I wasn’t. For myself, and for all those who had found themselves after a wasted childhood – now, denizens of the glamorous vice-pits of San Francisco, LA, and New York, it was a moment of liberation; of the supreme power of sex. It fulfilled the dream set forth by Hefner in his Playboy special from 79: the total prevalence of self-will over morality.



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