It’s no secret that my blogging is decidedly “off.”
There are paleo bloggers out there kicking my ass in terms of much that matters: diet lifestyle, published studies, and even considering quotidian news media bullshit — my own forte.
I remain resolute, in that I have done this long enough; and its time to do something else while only blogging about the stuff & shit I really care about (…and I have to blog about paleo coming in last of 20, for diets). So, a couple of months back, I wrote a post about doing a book. Of course, nothing does — nor necessarily should — go off as planned.
The good news is that I’m finally writing in earnest after some months of reflection: passionate, captivated, and can think of almost nothing else. I’ve become absorbed in the subject, writing an average of 2-3k words per day, towards a goal of about 100,000. It’s coming surprisingly easy to me. That was essential.
It’s a memoir spanning countries and continents. It’s about what I learned during my 20s being a “Back Door Man” over three — and a very short-term fourth, resulting in the single pregnancy I know about — relationships with women who were with others. There’s slight overlappage, but not on the same continent. Other than the occasional “fling,” from the age of about 22 to 32, I maintained non-exclusive sexual relationships with single women in various degree of relationship with other guys. If you reflect on that, you might begin to understand what kind of perspective that gave me, given this was nearly my whole experience with women in a serious context. For, it was at the very beginning and all I had ever known sexually (I was a virgin until 21). …And if you think women are somehow naturally monogamous, you might wonder what a woman might be like who’ll sooner fuck you on a Sunday morning instead of go to church — outcompeting God; that’s what I call it. They exist. And later, they may raise a family. And it’s often a good family.
I’m having a blast, so just checking in with idle and, not-so-idle, thoughts…always putting it down in a way that must certainly shock someone into realizing that they may have been living someone else’s values forever, and not their own.
Or, the deeper problem: that the person living and pursuing someone else’s values likely has none much of their own — values they themselves forged from their own mind, experience, and judgment.
The men don’t know,
But the little girls understand.
Well, all you people there tryin’ to sleep,
I’m out there making it my midnight treat — yea,
‘Cause I’m a back door man.
— The Doors
Update: I almost forgot. The story in iteelf is only half the book. The rest is my reflection on the religious baggage that I ultimately dumped, but had profound power over me even as I was violating its tenets. I’ll save the political baggage for a subsequent book and the diet and paleo for the last.