Under The Influence of Sex

  
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   Sex usurps the safer, less destructive nature of plant-forged narcotics--wanna bet?

   Helen of Troy was the Face that Launched a Thousand Pricks, mutilating myriads of men in War due to humanity's enslavement to carnal cravings--adultery kills.  But things are not so simple concerning sexuality, us still besmirched by the Adder's greatest victory of poisonous penetration:  EVE.  For example:  Jim Morrison.  I have dumped on him heavily in my auto-biography, dubbing him a wicked womanizer; however, under further spiritual investigation, Morrison's overly-charged sexuality was not due to his own raging libido, yet a plethora of yeast-infected women wanting his famous genitalia, not his bard-like wisdom.  The Rock 'n Roll Underground suspects that from numerous engagements in unprotected intercourse with horny, non-moralistic ladies, Morrison developed, possibly, some type of penis cancer, having a death sentence right on the tip of his sought after urethra.  Truly, for him--sex was:  THE END.
   
       Now to the warnings and sublime wisdom of crazy ass and sometimes ascetic religion.  Of course only Catholics and some Orthodox can offer the Body of a Celibate Christ, giving magical birth to the act of "Transubstantiation", for the bread is blessed by celibate hands, completely a mimic of Christ at the "Last Supper", unlike the Evangelicals, their offering of Christ's Celibate Body being merely symbolic due to their sexuality before/after the supposedly divine celebration of this pseudo-Eucharist.  And of many (not all) Islamic Men:  Concealing their women, slaying innocent adolescent girls for biological urges, yet when these men physically die--they claim to inherit a slippery harem of lewd and lascivious virgins.  Verily, no other hypocrisy trumps this utter act of orgasmic selfishness.  Oh well, I guess that's why nearly 40% of all Internet Traffic is the empty pump of porn.
   
   But as Americans, we tread where magnanimous angels don't dare.  Considering ourselves educated if climbing the supposed scholastic ladder of academia, yet not fully armed with any sense of spiritual ethics.  My dating life has been a disaster.  Many times have angry boyfriends called me, because their vainglorious girlfriends have a bit of a crush on my weirdness; next, I am dubbed as a predator of many a lass, yet only because their boyfriends are insecure and protective of what they believe belongs completely to them.  But after 8 years of being celibate, though flirty at times, I know regardless of education--a woman's wanting womb can make a slave out of them.  I was having intimate phone conversations with a Neurological Nurse @ Vanderbilt, and I thought I had found someone smart and special; on the contrary, she was a slave to her own sexuality--asking me repeatedly if I'd shave my scrotum for her complete elation, saying that shaved, masculine epidermis on her pink junk makes her squirt or some stupid shit like that.  Then, she mentioned her porn collection, and I was mercurial in my retreat from her hungry hole.
   
   Anyway, people are most afraid to die because they think sex will be absent.  Having not the wisdom of knowing resurrection, physiological rebirth into synthetic flesh, or whatever futurity spawns for people hellbent on believing nothing outshines an orgasm.  Poor people.  Regardless, we can already save the monster stretch of the vaginal cavity and diseased discharge of bodily fluids that cause yeast infections, STD's, and all the rest of things like facially-ornamented sex art.  Cloning, Test Tubes, Synthetic Eggs, and all the rest.  Verily, people don't have to engage in sex to make babies anymore--this is the archaic way of "Game of Thrones", before the Genetic Revolution saves women from being stretched to insufferable pain, though some women, the ones addicted to Internet Porn, desire this.  Truly, give a scandalous woman a long enough rope; next, she'll hang herself.  And many men dominated by selfish release, will do just that--afterwards, they'll do her sister too.  
   
   Sincerely, Mark David King