Men would love to believe that they do in fact love sex more than women. I am yet to find one who believes otherwise, regardless of the age. Even little virgin boys believe they crave it more than their female counterparts, so is this true? Has science proven this to us, or has pure statistics revealed who the sex fiend really is between the two sexes? But wanting sex is not the problem here, wanton sex is.
If a man wishes to tell himself that boning a lusty and promiscuous experiment inclined waif and his concomitant insatiable appetite with his sexual partner with whom he voluntarily partnered with is normal, albeit wrong (no one argues the right or wrongs any more, now it's "everyone does it, I'll outgrow it soon" just like in middle school, that prevails) are we expected to folds our arms and concede to the penis? Men are visual beings, so they are easily turned on by viewing. That is to say, all they have to do is walk down the street to get an erection and well be ready to implant their seeds in an unsuspecting passerby, but what of women? Check this, statistics show that openly lesbian women desire sex as much as openly gay men.
The female libido as suppressed as the phallus shaped world has made it is still a threat to the male being. Hence, circumcisions, stoning to deaths, negative tags and so forth, but, In a society without inhibitions and biased expectations, the woman being will be free to express herself sexually.
Dare I challenge men to encourage their women to express themselves a little more? Ah! I sense panic. Yes, the male being should panic. Suppression never equals disappearance. The female libido is fiercely potent, especially in a conducive environment when the female is allowed to think, imagine and breathe. The female is turned on through her mind, well, and some visual aid too, aren't we all?
I am not interested in telling men how they should behave. What I am saying is men should get ready to accept a generation of their female counterparts that not only appreciates sex, which is without doubt a beautiful thing, but also feels it is normal to maintain a catalogue of sexual hobbies and mates. Female sexual liberation will soon manifest into an awakened libido that matches that of the human male. But instead of this leading to an experience that can be termed as evolutionary, it will take the human race back to much archaic times as far back as when mice ruled the earth. Soon the alpha male will find that he cannot contain the woman. It will seem calculated as abruptly the trend that the male has led and happily accepted will expand and craft a planet of unbridled self destructive indulgence.
Whoa! Deja vu. Perhaps my blog is outdated?
Monday, October 30, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
KamiKaze. Divine Wind
There's still no explanation to the divine coincidences that awoken the typhoons that wiped out the Mongols twice as they approached the tiny island of Japan with the intention to invade and defeat. Well, I guess an explanation, probably as good as any is, well, coincidence, or the meteorologists of today perhaps could have warned Kublai Khan of his ill fated quest, but for the sake of captivating and intriguing history let's assume it really was divine.
So why did Japan attempt to relive these divine experience through artificial "divine winds"? I would say it was doomed to fail from the start no matter how successful it seemed initially. I'm talking about the kamikaze bombers during the world war II. I wonder if I would have thought it really divine if it hadn't failed, but then, did japan really plan on winning the war that way or simply on stalling the inevitable? The Kamikaze's did major damage on U.S. ships by the way. I digress. Here's where I was going with my talk on the divine wind...
I think we all do this at some point in time. We forget we refer to certain situations as divine and instead crank up our will power, rev up our agidi, otherwise known as strong head (necessary to succeed), and get down and dirty. After several foolproof attempts fail and only succeed at creating conundrums, we then go back to the drawing board, regurgitate our ideas and rechew, yes, ruminate.
I returned to school on Monday, and gosh, how different it is to be back in the middle of a semester, seeing new faces and finding the curriculum and books have changed. So, as the week comes to an end, I, and hopefully you, will take a step back and look at those things we have given God credit for that we are now trying to replicate on our own. Let's make next week a lil' easier shall we?
So why did Japan attempt to relive these divine experience through artificial "divine winds"? I would say it was doomed to fail from the start no matter how successful it seemed initially. I'm talking about the kamikaze bombers during the world war II. I wonder if I would have thought it really divine if it hadn't failed, but then, did japan really plan on winning the war that way or simply on stalling the inevitable? The Kamikaze's did major damage on U.S. ships by the way. I digress. Here's where I was going with my talk on the divine wind...
I think we all do this at some point in time. We forget we refer to certain situations as divine and instead crank up our will power, rev up our agidi, otherwise known as strong head (necessary to succeed), and get down and dirty. After several foolproof attempts fail and only succeed at creating conundrums, we then go back to the drawing board, regurgitate our ideas and rechew, yes, ruminate.
I returned to school on Monday, and gosh, how different it is to be back in the middle of a semester, seeing new faces and finding the curriculum and books have changed. So, as the week comes to an end, I, and hopefully you, will take a step back and look at those things we have given God credit for that we are now trying to replicate on our own. Let's make next week a lil' easier shall we?
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Yoruba [yáwrəbə]
(plural Yo·ru·ba or Yo·ru·bas)
1. member of W African people: a member of a West African people living mostly in Nigeria
2. W African language: a Niger-Congo language spoken in southwestern Nigeria, Benin, and Togo. Native speakers:20 million.
So, I happen to be a member of this tribe (I detest the use of the word tribe, it has been known to be used to characterize exotic peoples as wild, uninformed and, quite frankly, daft), but I also feel vainly satisfied when I imagine the fear that must have gripped the colonial masters and their counterparts the first time they set eyes on the nappy haired spear wielding tribes man. Yes, I am sure the tribes man was also gripped with fear, but this is my blog and I get to antagonize or ridicule whomever I want to.
In any case, I have recently, let me see, by recent I mean the past 9 years, fallen in love with my culture and language. To the surprise of my father I have become an avid fan of Fela, Tunde, I.K. Dairo Senior, Orlando Owo and some other older generation artistes. The most surprising part of it all perhaps is the fact that I didn't grow up listening to these genre of music, except for Fela's Afrobeat, and really they ought to be just as unfamiliar to me as they are to my siblings.
So what happened?
I moved to the U.S.
I find that most Nigerians who find themselves suddenly enthralled by their culture abroad were not completely exposed to it in the first place. I barely remember watching NTA and other local Nigerian channels. I'm sure my parents would have loved to get us acquainted to them, problem is, the channels were never clear enough and so they reverted to cable and satellite services. In a country like the U.S. where foreigners view the culture simply as technology(politely saying that the results of a melting pot is grossly looking cultureless goo), it very quickly dawns on even the most clueless foreigner that he does have a culture. No matter how faint it is in him, he finds that he exhibits it in class, at work or wherever he goes. It is up to him of course to expand upon it if he so chooses or to allow it to quickly begin to decompose and well, eventually liquefy in the pot.
Furthermore, a frequent traveller tends to appreciate both his home and the foreign places he travels to. Rather than dwelling on the negative sides of the different places one tends to visit enough places enough times that the comparison becomes not only clear, but one now starts to miss them. Yeah, I mean the comparisons, thus the places anyway.
Back to the issue.
Aha! Yes! So now, I am a lot more fluent in my native language than I have ever been at any point in my life. How did I do it you ask?...music. With a language that is so tonal as the Yoruba language is, you can often interpret words based on the pitches of the syllables. Also, the use of vowels in certain words play a good role in tipping you as to the shape, texture and manner of objects.
I am currently listening to a cassette that I "borrowed" from the trunk of an older family member. As I have translated it, the lyrics appear to be speaking about one's enemies who sit by one's blessings. It then asks for God to get them busy with other issues pertaining to themselves seeing as they have spare time at hand. I happen to find it very hilarious and quite entertaining. I also happen to say Amen to that everytime I hear the song. I'll share:
Eni to duro
Sibi ire ayo mi
Jesu, bami wase fun se.
As it were, I am only fluent when speaking. On paper though, well...the above is what you get.
1. member of W African people: a member of a West African people living mostly in Nigeria
2. W African language: a Niger-Congo language spoken in southwestern Nigeria, Benin, and Togo. Native speakers:20 million.
So, I happen to be a member of this tribe (I detest the use of the word tribe, it has been known to be used to characterize exotic peoples as wild, uninformed and, quite frankly, daft), but I also feel vainly satisfied when I imagine the fear that must have gripped the colonial masters and their counterparts the first time they set eyes on the nappy haired spear wielding tribes man. Yes, I am sure the tribes man was also gripped with fear, but this is my blog and I get to antagonize or ridicule whomever I want to.
In any case, I have recently, let me see, by recent I mean the past 9 years, fallen in love with my culture and language. To the surprise of my father I have become an avid fan of Fela, Tunde, I.K. Dairo Senior, Orlando Owo and some other older generation artistes. The most surprising part of it all perhaps is the fact that I didn't grow up listening to these genre of music, except for Fela's Afrobeat, and really they ought to be just as unfamiliar to me as they are to my siblings.
So what happened?
I moved to the U.S.
I find that most Nigerians who find themselves suddenly enthralled by their culture abroad were not completely exposed to it in the first place. I barely remember watching NTA and other local Nigerian channels. I'm sure my parents would have loved to get us acquainted to them, problem is, the channels were never clear enough and so they reverted to cable and satellite services. In a country like the U.S. where foreigners view the culture simply as technology(politely saying that the results of a melting pot is grossly looking cultureless goo), it very quickly dawns on even the most clueless foreigner that he does have a culture. No matter how faint it is in him, he finds that he exhibits it in class, at work or wherever he goes. It is up to him of course to expand upon it if he so chooses or to allow it to quickly begin to decompose and well, eventually liquefy in the pot.
Furthermore, a frequent traveller tends to appreciate both his home and the foreign places he travels to. Rather than dwelling on the negative sides of the different places one tends to visit enough places enough times that the comparison becomes not only clear, but one now starts to miss them. Yeah, I mean the comparisons, thus the places anyway.
Back to the issue.
Aha! Yes! So now, I am a lot more fluent in my native language than I have ever been at any point in my life. How did I do it you ask?...music. With a language that is so tonal as the Yoruba language is, you can often interpret words based on the pitches of the syllables. Also, the use of vowels in certain words play a good role in tipping you as to the shape, texture and manner of objects.
I am currently listening to a cassette that I "borrowed" from the trunk of an older family member. As I have translated it, the lyrics appear to be speaking about one's enemies who sit by one's blessings. It then asks for God to get them busy with other issues pertaining to themselves seeing as they have spare time at hand. I happen to find it very hilarious and quite entertaining. I also happen to say Amen to that everytime I hear the song. I'll share:
Eni to duro
Sibi ire ayo mi
Jesu, bami wase fun se.
As it were, I am only fluent when speaking. On paper though, well...the above is what you get.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
60 seconds in climax
I was driving through a particularly scenic back road by my house yesterday. I looked at the narrowing road and the never ending bowing trees that seemed to admire me and my intrepid today, then at the moving clouds and gosh, it was so beautiful. I had never appreciated any image so beautiful. I imagined cherubs floating on the clouds. I could spell my name and my lover's with the little clouds that had broken apart. It was quiet and blissful.
And then I wondered how many pixels would make it look so beautiful in still image.
Yep! Technology never fails to ruin the moment, wihch lasted approximately 60 seconds. At 70 miles per hour though, not surprising.
And then I wondered how many pixels would make it look so beautiful in still image.
Yep! Technology never fails to ruin the moment, wihch lasted approximately 60 seconds. At 70 miles per hour though, not surprising.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Act 5
Yes, just as expected, uncouth Cruella called my father in-law and he endured her barrage of insults and threats. She didn't fail to wave her juju around once again. Oh but what's unexpected is, get this, she lied! Talking about me calling her to harasss her...something I would have loved to do initially when I heard of her attempts at cowering and commanding.... Well I didn't get to and I lost interest. Oh yeah, and now I hear Deville's good friend, the orchestrator, has been kicked out of her home. In the end, you can't be mad at people who literarily insist on being a fiend in your life. What's interesting is I don't interfere in other people's lives, but lately some people insist on knowing what goes on in my life. Hmmm...perhaps I should step up my prayers. Here's how I see it, if the hostile community is happy they will stick to themselves, another way to look at it, if the hostile community encounters enough problems, they'll be too busy disentangling themselves to bother me.
Well, all in all, believe it or not, I expect good memories from all this.
Well, all in all, believe it or not, I expect good memories from all this.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Juju
Juju: [joo joo] noun: ju.ju.ism
So a woman who has waltz uninvited into my life along with her daughter have decided to threaten me with juju. I hear about these things, actually, I watch it on tv, I don't think I've ever heard of an actual instance, but yeah....
I would tell you the whole story but it is too long, and quite frankly I have not only forgotten most of it but recalling it all will surely piss me off. But I'll hint ;)
Let's call the woman Cruella and her daughter Deville.
Act 1:
Deville interferes with my life as often as she can even though I barely know her. I think she got a rush off doing that, don't ask me why. She'd call me with unknown numbers and drop calls, She'd attempt to hack into my email account, actually once, she sent me an email pretending to be one of my friends. This interference goes on for 3 years. She had summed me up and figured I was no threat to her agendas.
Act 2:
And then a few weeks ago I found some remnants of her interference in my car. I tried to get an understanding of why, how, what and where, but all I could come up with were lies. Eventually within a few hours of hot air, cuts and bruises, I pass on this object to a few friends. I woke up the next morning with a heavy heart. I should not have sunk to her level I thought. While she relished interfering with my life and I wished I could slap her silly, it appears she was invited...well, or this juju that Cruella in waving in the air was in the works a while ago.
Act 3:
Cruella wakes me up in the middle of the day and asks for damage control and peace. I think to myself "all I've ever wanted is peace". I didn't have the heart to tell her the only damage control possible was Deville changing her approach to life. She hangs up the phone after talking to me for hours. By the weekend she had gotten my father in-law's number and proceeded to harass him, with everything you can think of, including juju. My first thought was "Wow! In flesh and blood?"
Act 4:
She keeps harassing my father in-law even though I seemed to be the object of her anger. Eventually, my mom gets word of the threats and decides to let Cruella know it was enough seeing as she seemed to have found her niche of full control to manipulate and cower others. My mom calls Cruella and Cruella starts to threaten once again with juju. Obviously, she doesn't know my mother or father. A few minutes, perhaps an hour later I get a call from Deville's good friend who has allowed herself to be an orchestrator of meetings. Knowing I will never call her and have never called her, she still felt inclined to call me and ask me not to call her. She hung up the phone and I got the feeling she simply wanted to experience some weird satisfaction from that. I was going to ignore her completely after all she was happy, but I thought to show her the foolishness of her actions so I texted her. A summary of the text: I will never call you, you know that, don't call me again either. Oh, did I mention she went off about how my mom cursed Cruella? Apparently she gave my mom Cruella's number and Cruella went off with the juju remarks. Knowing my mom, she must have told her the juju will work right back on her and her own. She didn't like that too much, so she called Deville's good friend and reports to her about the incident. I'm pritti sure she forgot to mention her juju threats, but she told Deville's good friend that my mom cursed her.
Whew! That was a stretch!
I would say you should look out for Act 5, but I doubt there will be any. If there is any it will most likely be in the realms of the spirit. You know, juju vs. God? I'm pretty sure Cruella will not be talking to my mother any time soon and my mom will not be interested in talking to her either. Although she might revert back to her comfort zone and keep up her harassment of my father in-law and my better half. Who knows.
With all sincerity I now have pity and compassion for Deville. I hope she repents and overcomes any hurdles that come her way. I hope all involved repent. I have. Cruella though...well, even the hearts of kings are in God's hands. Maybe if she goes ahead with her juju and it falls on her head she will then repent. I just hope she does.
As for me, I have since moved forward.
- object with supposed magical powers: an object revered among some West African peoples for the magical powers that it is thought to possess
- spell effected by juju: a spell put on something or somebody by means of a juju. Also known as spiritual wickedness in high places.
So a woman who has waltz uninvited into my life along with her daughter have decided to threaten me with juju. I hear about these things, actually, I watch it on tv, I don't think I've ever heard of an actual instance, but yeah....
I would tell you the whole story but it is too long, and quite frankly I have not only forgotten most of it but recalling it all will surely piss me off. But I'll hint ;)
Let's call the woman Cruella and her daughter Deville.
Act 1:
Deville interferes with my life as often as she can even though I barely know her. I think she got a rush off doing that, don't ask me why. She'd call me with unknown numbers and drop calls, She'd attempt to hack into my email account, actually once, she sent me an email pretending to be one of my friends. This interference goes on for 3 years. She had summed me up and figured I was no threat to her agendas.
Act 2:
And then a few weeks ago I found some remnants of her interference in my car. I tried to get an understanding of why, how, what and where, but all I could come up with were lies. Eventually within a few hours of hot air, cuts and bruises, I pass on this object to a few friends. I woke up the next morning with a heavy heart. I should not have sunk to her level I thought. While she relished interfering with my life and I wished I could slap her silly, it appears she was invited...well, or this juju that Cruella in waving in the air was in the works a while ago.
Act 3:
Cruella wakes me up in the middle of the day and asks for damage control and peace. I think to myself "all I've ever wanted is peace". I didn't have the heart to tell her the only damage control possible was Deville changing her approach to life. She hangs up the phone after talking to me for hours. By the weekend she had gotten my father in-law's number and proceeded to harass him, with everything you can think of, including juju. My first thought was "Wow! In flesh and blood?"
Act 4:
She keeps harassing my father in-law even though I seemed to be the object of her anger. Eventually, my mom gets word of the threats and decides to let Cruella know it was enough seeing as she seemed to have found her niche of full control to manipulate and cower others. My mom calls Cruella and Cruella starts to threaten once again with juju. Obviously, she doesn't know my mother or father. A few minutes, perhaps an hour later I get a call from Deville's good friend who has allowed herself to be an orchestrator of meetings. Knowing I will never call her and have never called her, she still felt inclined to call me and ask me not to call her. She hung up the phone and I got the feeling she simply wanted to experience some weird satisfaction from that. I was going to ignore her completely after all she was happy, but I thought to show her the foolishness of her actions so I texted her. A summary of the text: I will never call you, you know that, don't call me again either. Oh, did I mention she went off about how my mom cursed Cruella? Apparently she gave my mom Cruella's number and Cruella went off with the juju remarks. Knowing my mom, she must have told her the juju will work right back on her and her own. She didn't like that too much, so she called Deville's good friend and reports to her about the incident. I'm pritti sure she forgot to mention her juju threats, but she told Deville's good friend that my mom cursed her.
Whew! That was a stretch!
I would say you should look out for Act 5, but I doubt there will be any. If there is any it will most likely be in the realms of the spirit. You know, juju vs. God? I'm pretty sure Cruella will not be talking to my mother any time soon and my mom will not be interested in talking to her either. Although she might revert back to her comfort zone and keep up her harassment of my father in-law and my better half. Who knows.
With all sincerity I now have pity and compassion for Deville. I hope she repents and overcomes any hurdles that come her way. I hope all involved repent. I have. Cruella though...well, even the hearts of kings are in God's hands. Maybe if she goes ahead with her juju and it falls on her head she will then repent. I just hope she does.
As for me, I have since moved forward.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Humility or humiliation
I'm Nigerian. My dad appears to be the only Nigerian that embodied a wholesome picture of what a human being should be; thus, he is my only mentor from that blessed nation.
And now to the issue:
I have endured a barrage of adult interference in my life like never before in the recent weeks and it seems to me as though the adult suggestions are nothing less than humiliating. Perhaps this is as a result of the apparent generational gap "I like to make excuses for people, who usually do not deserve it, don't ask me why". Being the explicitly truthful person that I am, I communicate that to them...the next thing I know, "Pride" becomes the anchor of the rest of the discussion.
I have never thought of myself as proud. I cannot stand proud people, especially when unbeknownst to them, you are more successful in whatever it is they are boasting about, or you could care less. I am quite friendly, seeing as I'll rather make friends than enemies that makes sense, but what could make someone tag me as proud, or in need of humility? Perhaps the fact that I have been independent ever since I could be, or the fact that God has granted me success in the things I have set my mind to has made me uniquely confident that whatever situation arises I can conquer by the grace of Almighty God? For whatever reason, I refuse to be humiliated. Don't assume that means I have not endured my share of humiliation because I have. All I have decided to do now is put an end to it. It's as though it suddenly hit me, all these Nigerian's stressing me out with their "suugestions" are not going to live my life for me. For all I know they could pass on tomorrow. Will I then go wag my finger at their corpses?
And now to the issue:
I have endured a barrage of adult interference in my life like never before in the recent weeks and it seems to me as though the adult suggestions are nothing less than humiliating. Perhaps this is as a result of the apparent generational gap "I like to make excuses for people, who usually do not deserve it, don't ask me why". Being the explicitly truthful person that I am, I communicate that to them...the next thing I know, "Pride" becomes the anchor of the rest of the discussion.
I have never thought of myself as proud. I cannot stand proud people, especially when unbeknownst to them, you are more successful in whatever it is they are boasting about, or you could care less. I am quite friendly, seeing as I'll rather make friends than enemies that makes sense, but what could make someone tag me as proud, or in need of humility? Perhaps the fact that I have been independent ever since I could be, or the fact that God has granted me success in the things I have set my mind to has made me uniquely confident that whatever situation arises I can conquer by the grace of Almighty God? For whatever reason, I refuse to be humiliated. Don't assume that means I have not endured my share of humiliation because I have. All I have decided to do now is put an end to it. It's as though it suddenly hit me, all these Nigerian's stressing me out with their "suugestions" are not going to live my life for me. For all I know they could pass on tomorrow. Will I then go wag my finger at their corpses?
Outlet
Ahhhhhhhhhh...(exhaling)
So, I decided I needed an outlet for the issues of my life that used to weigh me down. "Out of your heart flows the issues of life" That is a direct quote from the bible.
In any case, I will be more frequent as the days pass. I just wanted to set this up for now. Wish me success.
So, I decided I needed an outlet for the issues of my life that used to weigh me down. "Out of your heart flows the issues of life" That is a direct quote from the bible.
In any case, I will be more frequent as the days pass. I just wanted to set this up for now. Wish me success.
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