Though we’re a news site, I strive not to post on the bummers unless there are solutions to couple with ’em, especially when it comes to porn. The mainstream fear mongers feed enough of that drivel to the hungry baby boomer crowd, and here, we want your life to be better, at least in some way. So when I lay this terrible news on you, don’t freak out; there is an easy fix…
Get ready for…
Raw unbridled power. Soon you’ll have unparalleled focus, strength, and animal-magnetism enveloping your being like some all-mighty aura of tenacious suavity. Awesomeness. But first…
Before we take a stab at why you don’t have these things, women, this article isn’t meant for you. Glean some nifty tricks if you can, but the research happens to all be aimed at the fellas. And be forewarned, the Pandora’s Box of the male psyche really is disturbingly straight forward, so endeavor further at your own peril.
Gentlemen, I have some mixed news for you regarding porn. We’ve been shooting ourselves in the groin for countless generations, completely oblivious. As it turns out, when our monkey forefathers sprouted opposable thumbs nearly 70 million years ago, they launched our chimp brothers into a vortex of technological advancement, but unfortunately, in this same step, doomed our fraternal lineage to a fate of epidemic depression, anxiety, inferiority-complexes and erectile-dysfunction. No need to take bolt cutters to that wonderful fifth digit, there is an easier fix.
What’s wrong with my thumbs? And what does it have to do with porn?
Aside from allowing us, collectively, to construct tools, carry said tools, flush toilets and headshot noobs, our thumbs have been responsible for basically all of civilization as we know it, separating us through dexterity from the rest of the animal kingdom. Similarly magnanimous, from the pyramids of Giza to sliced bread, every great human advancement those little babies have rendered us capable of has stemmed from a single, all-encompassing species-driving motive: we wanted to impress women. Literally, all facets of culture and society can be broken into that basest motivation: mating. So when our primate cousins found their fingers all those generations ago, suddenly the rules of the game changed, because our every hardwired purpose for living could now be overridden in one effortless squirt. I’m talking about masturbation.
Don’t get all preachy on me now!
Relax. This isn’t some moralistic pseudo-religious naysaying on the evils of your naughty bits. The palm hair is safe.
The capacity to watch porn and masturbate has put us in a dilemma. We have a choice as men: we can study hard, trouncing all competitors, create an empire, amass a fortune, and (possibly) win the affections of some elusive supermodel goddess. Or, for the price of a bottle of Lubriderm and a stolen Wi-Fi connection, we can download ultra-high resolution close-ups of lady-bits and let our imaginations skip all that effort.
Low hanging fruit tastes better, we like to pretend.
I happen to enjoy my porn, thank you! Why is that a problem?
It isn’t, necessarily. But there are definite drawbacks. Each ejaculation takes a toll on the philanderer’s wellbeing in several potent ways.
First, with each climax, a man losses a whole slew of essential vitamins and nutrients because semen is designed to give as much of a fighting chance to the new embryo as possible. In fact, each time we cum, we lose the protein equivalent of a large egg. That’s why we just want to nap afterward or find the whole thing gross; literally, our entire physiology is designed to propel us into this point of mutual orgasm, storing massive energy reserves to be spent at copulation, not to be squandered into a crusty sock.
Worse still, ejaculation expels testosterone reserves. Every fap session makes you less of a man in a very real sense, depleting you of your very chemical maleness (This does not apply to actual sex, however, which we’ll look at shortly. High-five!). Lastly, and we’ve covered this deeper in previous articles, masturbation effects dopamine levels on a similar scale to heroin, leading to obsessive-compulsiveness, thought-disorders, social anxiety and depression. Be honest, at some level, does that seem familiar?
You said there was good news?
Indeed, I did. Friends, if you masturbate because porn is easy and getting laid eludes you, we have some great news. Masturbating is why you’re not getting laid. You see, each time you lose that testosterone, first your body produces less pheromones, your natural arousal cologne, and the renewed secretion of pheromones creates this cloud of alpha-male essence around you, effortlessly attracting women and impressing your dominance upon fellow men.
Better still, with this unsquandered natural energy and social prowess, comfort and confidence in your own skin skyrockets, and your body instinctually makes you want to set aside the MMORPG’s and interact with other humans. You’re a natural at talking to girls, just not so much after the instant gratification of manual stimulation. Face to face socializing is what you were designed for.
Too good to be true? There are thousands of first-hand accounts of 180 degree life changes from simply giving your little buddy a rest, and closing out of the porn site. There are also massive support communities to help the transition into the new Casanova lifestyle. We all love our porn fellas, and the idea of losing our parents to cholera is probably more soothing than withdrawal from the sweet, sweet glories of a photoshopped Kate Upton…
So how bout a quick self-check:
- Do you exercise, dress classy, and/or groom your billy-goat beard from time to time, but still feel invisible to women?
- Have you read any how-to’s by Neal Strauss?
- Did you linger at that last photo (we all did)?
- Does there seem like a collective decision by all woman-kind to blue-ball you?
- Do you suspect you give the vibe of a man passing out candy from his windowless van?
- Is your go-to stress relief the instant-gratification of internet porn?
Back to the science: Something About Mary had it backwards. Just go a few days without relief and a switch flips. Suddenly, you’re the center of everyone’s attention. Oh, thank God (teeth were gritted down to nubs of insecurity).
Can we talk about Porn?
I thought you’d never ask. Porn, fantastic as it may be, acts directly on the addiction centers of the brain. Our caveman minds are, frankly, not equipped for handling the endless feast of flesh at our fingertips thanks to the internet, because, physiologically, sex is geared to be the highest possible reward meant only for the healthiest most contributing-to-the-tribe males. This instant access is a major cause of the growing trend in apathy in the developed world. With the dopamine high of life’s ultimate purpose so reticently available, there is a dwindling (possibly non-human) percentage driven to true accomplishments.
Come on. It’s natural to like to look at women.
Totally. That’s not the point. No one’s judging. No one want’s to be told one of their favorite pastimes is a drain on them, or worse, that it’s an addiction. That’s between you and your penis to decide. By no means are we suggesting you become celibate (though many of the great minds in history went that route), or that you focus your chi to transmute your sex energy, but if your gut instinct was defensiveness, maybe try the no porn challenge for kicks.
As with all addictions, porn needs escalation to get the same thrill. So soft-core turns to hardcore turns to fetishes to taboos and tentacle-rape to friction scars and cut out front-pockets for easy access, until you’re crying over a bottle of merlot fantasizing about accidental eye-contact with the hostess at Applebee’s. (That’s universal, right?)
To getting a life. Cheers.