IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS

IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS

 by Paul Schroeder

“Sex is not the answer.
Sex is the question.
The answer, is ‘YES’!”
(Woody Allen)

Since sex is less than five or ten percent of a marriage, those who marry just for sex, find imposing reasons later on in the relationship, to not confine sex, within the parameters of their marriage, but remain as faithful, as their options and opportunities.

 

After all, man DOES need woman for the artistry and complexity of friendship, for filial fun, cute socializing, profound partnering, and deep soul intimacy, but they may not ALL BE with the SAME woman.

Women wander sexually, as well, as statistics reveal, that every other wife strays to another’s arms, for love making.

 

I often thought that women had it better than men and that if I were a woman, without any love, I’d be down at the docks,  no underwear, waiting for the fleet to come in, with my skirt pulled over my head.

More and more women today, say aloud, that they “don’t need any man, anymore, even for sex, but that they DO need men , sometimes, but then, ONLY, to lift and move, heavy things around…

 

There surely HAS to be some more dignified way of expressing desire and passionate love for another human being, because the human body is a sad marvel, with its waste disposal plant, immediately adjoining its amusement park area.

Sex, is forever something that parents are loathe to discuss with their children; when I was a child of seven, they mentioned the fearful danger of sex, saying, “not to play around with sex, because it was,”playing with fire.”

At seven years old, I recall thinking,

“Well, I HAVE a hose…

But one who marries, just for sex, is buying a 747 jet, just for the little bag of peanuts.

Surely, there’s other ways to get peanuts, if that’s all that you really want.

Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, and will as soon marry for sumptuous breasts, than for love, an idea so repulsive and childish, that it takes much head shaking, to comprehend,  because spiritual
love is appreciating, sharing, empathy and giving, quite bereft of the pangs of lust.
Yet, for all men’s fascination with women’s breasts, should men themselves,  overweight  develop breasts, they  do chafe ingloriously, upset about those unmanly acquisitions.
                                                 

Men are more juvenile in primitive sexual drives and emotional makeup, and women are indeed, far better human beings, providential, sensitive, charitable, strong and beautiful.

This DNA primate difference can be demonstrated.

At a very young age, place a group of five-year-old girls, in a room together, and they will sit, talk and relate to each other with civil chatter, sharing, and often with surprising wisdom.
 But, place a group of five-year-old boys in a room together,  and soon they will roll all over the floor, like shaved gorillas, lost in individual and mutual combative power fantasies.

Our lingering social notion  that men are more important, more apt and more likely to be leaders, is still a hard social prejudice to quell.

Equality, in mutual passion, is easier to demonstrate:

When a cop on the beat encounters a young couple making love in the tall grass, in a park, he does NOT tap their shoes with his nightstick to angrily demand,

” All right, now, WHO’S in charge, here ?!”

Progress will turn HIStory, into HERstory.

Women remain naive and not the least bit aware of men’s glandular functioning concepts towards all women.

At a party or wedding,

men view a woman’s public, licentious exaggerated undulations in dance as her being naked,  and sexual fantasies unfurl

deep within men’s psyches.

Dance becomes sex in visualized fantasies of private encounters with these licentious, and actively lithe women on the dance floor.

For women,  few rarely grasp that their public dancing, is clearly nothing but public, overt, symbolic sex.

 

Perhaps this makeup makes it still a man’s world, because it’s much easier, in society, to BE a man:

Each solitary, individual feature on your face always stays its birth shade and original color.

Methinks, that If men wore makeup, most would be disconcertingly prettier than many women.

If a man chooses, he might, perhaps, consider a cosmetic shave, but ONLY to some parts of his face and neck.

You can always wear shorts despite how awful your legs do look.

Your last name, regardless of marital -legal battles, stays put.

People do not ever stare at your breasts and your nipples when you’re happily chatting with them.

You are genetically and socially blind to any but the biggest wrinkles in your clothing.

Calorie intake and belly size are never a crucial consideration.

 

You always have the consummate and total freedom of choice about the growing of a mustache.

 

You don’t have to remove all of your clothes just to pee.

 

You can wake up just as attractive as you were when you went to bed, rather than have your beauty somehow deteriorate, during the night.

 

You can more easily, socially, defend your space, with knee-jerk displays of violence.

Woman, as the pretty sex, is a relatively new idea:

 

Pirates who wore the perfumes, jewelry, silks and frills echoed this olden concept of male beauty; a classical nude in statue, was almost ALWAYS male, historically, in ancient Greece and Rome.
This classic maleness model of beauty oddly reversed itself in the eighteenth century and women became the “pretty sex”, instead.

Throughout the animal world, whether it flies or swims, the male is STILL the colorful sex, the female, the drab one.

 

But since the eighteenth century, sexual and cultural reversals have oddly persisted in human affairs, and women instead have become the pretty sex.

But “pretty” means, slim and skinny, as fashion dictates.

 

Today, women who carry a few extra pounds, live longer than the men, who mention it…

Straight men, do not adorn themselves towards being highly polished- exceptions exist for politicians, actors, sports-stars, head gangsters, and police detectives, for within these men, narcissism, a sinful sense of entitlement, and monumental ego all loom.

 

In those egomaniac ‘types’ , highly-polished, self-preening is always accompanied by bullying others.
But the question remains, for the sake of guile and deceit: how curried and airbrushed is too curried and airbrushed?
The first thing I look at, when I see a polished, curried woman, is her eyebrows; if they’re natural, it’s a blast of honest sexuality that curls my toes.
If they’ve been removed and severe Groucho-Klingon brows, of crayola, at odd sharp angles, or worse,  tattooed on, I experience an anxious ‘turn off’, a social warning of duplicity, and all of my ‘antenna’ are up, and waving..
Women with long lustrous hair have always been sought as mates, because hair grows slowly and vividly reflects one’s general health, so mating was preferred with shiny, long-haired lasses, who were lax with lasciviousness …
But the rub, is that many women who look like floss, patina and veneer, are mostly shallow types who a man has to pay, for an intelligent conversation, because
 they have long cared ONLY about their outsides, and not ever about, their ‘insides’.

‘Beauty’ television commercials and ‘beauty’ magazine ads feature graphics of highly curried women, extolling Western society’s virtues of vacuous, narcissistic women, who gaze back at us, made over into a man’s surreal vision of what ‘beauty’ should look like..

 

In Maine, at a lobster restaurant, I went to the register to pay and behind the counter, opening the register, was a tall, strikingly handsome, buxom woman, in a formal ballgown who sported a large handlebar mustache.

 

Her startling visage has stayed with me, for many years, resplendent and role indigestible..
It’s a cultural facade and mirage of the sadly discarded true value of beauty, which always comes from within.
 A man in our culture says,”You’re beautiful”, before he says, “I love you”, and thus a woman is wrongly taught , that if beauty fades, then love must also fade.
Poorly informed, desperately seeking love, she runs scared to the beauty parlor, nail salon, hair stylist, cosmetic facial and breast implant surgeons, willing to suffer to maintain an airbrushed, curried, artificial “beauty” , so that “love” will not also vanish.

Men perpetrate this hoax until they themselves believe it.

In truth, a woman is as sexy in bed as that woman was interesting, before bed, and interesting, after bed.

But, for many non-self-respecting men, it’s all  just  about  a woman’s exterior patina, and veneer towards sex.

For these men, none of them ever reached under a woman’s skirt, looking for her library card…

 

Men admit that they LOVE women who look hot and who act hot;  homespun, often unwilling women, by comparison, are like radiators, men have to keep touching, to see if the heat’s coming up.

Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, more vain than women and more duplicitous in satisfying their overwhelming hormonal drives.

 

Thus, using men’s sex drive, against them, women culturally have been taught guile and deceit from a tender age, to ‘trap a man’, by using their physical, sexual allure:

 

They shave armpits,

shave legs and mustaches,

dye their hair,

use eye-liner,

mascara and false eyelashes,

face makeup,

 

(“Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy”)

 

 foundation,

earrings,

tints of rouge blush,

sport uplift brassieres,

apply perfumes,

apply lipstick,

go for Botox or plastic surgery to erase facial wrinkles,

 install Hershey-kiss silicone fake breasts,

wear high heels,

designer fingernails,

contact lenses,

  paint fingers and toes.
They put on things, to make them look bigger, and things that make them look smaller;

then, they meet a man,

and  they want, …”HONESTY!!”

Man, refuses to accept that makeup glamour fools the eye and deludes the heart, until he awakens after the wedding to see his bride without any makeup, and in shock thinks, “WHO is THAT?!”

Can such preoccupation with sexual camouflage avoid extra-marital diversion , and allow longevity and truthfulness towards a meaningful marriage?

 

Many couples who have lasted together forever, don’t have to work hard,  to get along  in marriage’.

 

When George Burns and Gracie Allen were asked how they remained so in love after sixty years, he said:

 

‘Marriage is a business.
When you work too hard to make the business of marriage work, you get tired, and when you’re tired , you get annoyed, and when you’re annoyed,  arguments start, and when arguments start…then, you’re OUT of business’ .

I remember once being stopped and asked at Disneyland by a graying and aged couple, to “photograph them”, for it was none other than their “fiftieth anniversary”.

 

I saw the way he held her hand and how they hugged and kissed as I struggled to find and frame the picture.

I wondered what wisdom and marital advice they might share, for too many, marriages end sadly in divorce.

 

These too many short-term marriages, for too many men, seemed to me,  just like a tornado:

 

in the beginning, there’s a lot of sucking and blowing , and later on … you lose the house.

 

Whatever happened to the romantic woman and to the romantic man who said that they could not live without each other?

 

He went East, and she went West… and they both lived.

My wife went over to speak with his wife to comment on how sweet they looked together, but when

I returned the camera as he made his way  over to me,  I asked him the $500,000 lulu question:

 

“What’s the secret to being married, so successfully, for so long?”

 

He looked confidential and wise and peeked to see if his wife was engaged in conversation before he spoke:

 

“You gotta cheat”, he whispered.

Men are like linoleum floors. Lay ’em right and you can walk all over them for thirty years. ~ Betsy Salkind
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GRANDMA’S RUSSIAN ADVICE

Grandma’s Advice

by Paul Schroeder

Just before my grandmother on my mother’s side died at the age of 95, I whispered a kiss in her ear and thanked her for her wisdom.

One odd piece of advice, that she had taught me when I was a child, I had carried close to my inner ear, all of my life.

It had been an Independence Day warning, borne of a distant Russian wisdom, one that she had whispered to me four decades ago, when I was nine or ten years old, impressionable and the apple of her eye.

The imprecation that I got from her, the warning whispered in my small rapt ear when I was nine or ten years old had been an odd warning that ruled and guided my life, and through angst, had come to define a larger part of what I called my soul.

Her ‘Russian optimism’ for the world, was childhood overwhelming for me.
For her, life was always a cup of optimism, half filled ….. but, with something, that could  likely kill you.

Now, she at ninety-five was far from that woman who in giving advice could be ironic and poetical.

She had used lipstick as a rouge to color her cheeks and then decided that her whole face was of a pallor that also needed color, rubbed lipstick all over her face.

She was quite a shock when I got onto the seventh floor of the retirement home and turned the corner and saw her sitting in a wheelchair, as though apparently waiting for me.

 

She still had her sense of humor.

She earnestly asked with a childlike innocence if I could bring her some new makeup and some big diamond jewelry for her to wear to dress herself up, when I visited her next?

Cautiously, I had asked her, skeptically dubious ;”What type of diamond jewelry?” She had said;

“Expensive, fancy jewelry.”

She labored under the delusion that she was in a hotel in Miami, one that slouched in basic standards;

“The meals at this hotel are terrible, but what is a person to do?”

She did not ever surmise herself to be in a nursing home near the beach in Coney Island, Brooklyn.

A person’s senior mind can lend a type of psychic anesthesia that acts in many ways to protect it from uncompromising and painful truths. .

Now I was an odd adult.

I wanted her to know that I loved her, how her whisper had returned years later as my gratitude.

I had loved to cherish ideas; a rare few philosophers had touched my early soul .

Dr. Seuss had barely competed with grandma.

But, he  wrote : “Be who you are and say what you think, because those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind, don’t matter!”

 

But grandma didn’t recall her similar advice or the small pleasures and agonies of our past.

My other odd philosopher was sitting here in her wheelchair, armed and propped with a pillow/ alarm that would audibly alert nurses in the retirement home if she pitched forward and left her chair’s upright fixed position.

She was different the next time I saw her, the way she used to be ;

” Hello, Paul; sharp as a matzoh and twice as crummy!”

“How come you don’t call your grandma more often? Humph!!”

“Humph;You going to wait until I’m in the cemetery and THEN you’ll visit me?”

“I’m sorry, that you’ll be sorry, but THEN it’ll be too late!”

This was the same verbatim greeting that I had gotten from her over the years over the telephone .  I presumed that I was calloused to it all.

 

It always deeply riddled me with guilt but I never let her know, but instead I saw it rather as a good sign that she was still feeling feisty.

When she successfully aimed ring-toss-Velcro-guilt in my direction, I rationalized, she must be feeling much better.

I quickly tried to change the subject; ” Grandma I remember that boardwalk we can see here in Brighton Beach from a time when you were fifty years old and I was about nine years old and I still remember the good advice that you gave me, back then.”

“What advice did I give you?”

I told her.

It had stayed with me for many years as a token of her wisdom.

“You brought me to you on a bench on that boardwalk, in Coney Island, on a hot 4th of July afternoon, when the whole family was there suddenly hugging and kissing each other,

happy for once, to be all together and happy seeing the fireworks, and then you whispered it in my ear:

“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams,” You told me.

“What?”, she said, so I told her again;

“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams.”

 

“OH!”, she said,”I am VERY sorry, if I ever told you that!.”

“I AM very sorry.”

I reminded her, however, what an impact she’d had on me then.

“That whisper, as a recommended life philosophy, was both poetry and  true and that, your advice, really stayed deeply with me.”

 

Taken to heart, it had allowed me to remain aloof and separate from everyone, as a type of self protection,  to preserve my OWN dream.

 

“She looked at me as though I were some stranger in a dream.

I said it, again;

“Don’t get too close to people, you’ll catch their dreams.”

She was thoughtful and then looked worried.

 

She looked into my eyes.

“I never told you THAT.” …

 

“You shouldn’t get too close, because…”

“Germs”, she said.

” I said that you’ll catch their GERMS.”

“I told you and your sister MANY times;

“Don’t get too close to people, ’cause you’ll catch their GERMS.” she said, again.

 


“And YOU’RE supposed to be the smart one?!””Oh,” she groaned in pain.”
Take me over to the dining room; it’s still too early for the lunch, but I want to get there anyway, early.”

That wrong belief had overshadowed every relationship in my life with an ambivalence and a craving to just be left alone.

If one was alone, one was safe from what people could do to you, I had always reasoned.

But, I had been running away from my own shadow.

Two marriages and a dozen influenza later, I had realized her truth, too late.

ARE YOU AN ALIEN ABDUCTEE?

Alien Abductee Assessment Checklist Questions

by Paul Schroeder

Before you deny alien abductions abjectly or even suspect that you are experiencing them, this checklist is engineered to assist in determining if regressive hypnosis or more investigation may be required.

If you can strongly and unequivocally say,”Yes!” to ten or more questions, you may well be one of millions worldwide who has had experiences of high strangeness with alien entities, but one, like most, whom has little idea.

Taken astrally during sleep,  ‘screened’ recollections resemble vivid dreams.
 One may even be physically marched around an alien craft to later awaken in bed with little clue, for aren’t all experiences, during sleep. mistakenly recognized as mere dreams?
These questions point to alien tampering that is very elusive but which in retrospect examinations,  becomes as obvious, as a trout in the milk.
Then, regressive hypnosis will reveal the whole entire iceberg and not just this suggested tip :
Have you ever suffered bouts of severe disabling anxiety and panic attacks?

(for men) Are there lumps or is there a small, hard ‘cyst’ within the skin of your scrotum/testicles?(for women)Did you ever suspect that you might be pregnant and learned that you were not?Did you ever miss a period and were confused about why?

Do you have feminine problems like painful periods?

(for both men and women):

Did you ever awaken with sore genitals?

Did you ever have a diagnosis of low blood pressure, heart rate or body temperature?

Have you ever awakened with soreness, bruises or scratches on your body?

Did you ever on more than one occasion experience a high tone ringing in your ears?

Have you experienced repeated sinus difficulties?

Is your hearing faculty extraordinarily good?

Have you ever had nosebleeds in the morning or later in the day for no reason whatsoever?

Do you awaken more tired than you were going to bed?

Do you awaken during the night with being startled / have nightmares that linger in your memory longer than usual dreams?

Any headaches/pains behind just one eye?

Do particular lights/smells/sounds affect you with a hypersensitivity?

Have you memories/dreams of odd beings?

Have you ever noticed black cars, black helicopters or men in black suits?

Did you ever spot a UFO or seen lights in the sky making unusual maneuvers?

Did you suddenly ever smell rotting odors or the smell of burning wire for no good reason and with no source discernible?

Did you ever see what looked like odd swirling fog or mists indoors?

Have electrical or electronic equipment/ appliances, light bulbs, wrist watches acted peculiarly around you?

Have you always secretly believed that you were truly most “different” than other people?

Are you oddly, unusually telepathic/psychic at times?

Are you extremely licentious /lascivious/sexual?

Have you ever gained or lost time?(such as arriving much sooner or much later while driving somewhere)

Have you ever felt that you must suddenly lay down for a nap feeling dazed or drugged for no reason?

Have you ever experienced what you thought was an out of body experience?

Have you ever felt eyes on you or sensed an unseen presence nearby?

Do your pets react to unseen presences?

Have you ever awakened as if no time had elapsed between going to bed and awakening, with no recalled dreams ?

Have relationships/sex been predominantly discomforting and problematic?

Have you studied the nighttime sky and stars with an over fascination and undue anxiety?

Have you awoken to find random possessions/clothing not where you left them?

Were you ever very insistent about not having children?

Is there a feeling that you know something you should not talk about or even think about?

Have you ever felt that you were being watched by unseen eyes during sex ?

Have you ever ‘dreamed’ of aliens/UFOs?

Do you have difficulties sleeping/unusual sleep patterns?

Are you or have you ever been frightened of closets such that the closet door must be firmly closed before you can close your eyes to go to sleep?

 Have you moved many times/changed your place of residence often?

Are you very phobic of injections and dentists/ medical procedures?

Do you often feel that ‘elevator feeling syndrome’ (of eyes behind you)/ being watched?

Do you go to bed with the light/ radio/ television on or does your bed HAVE to be up against a wall for a feeling of ‘safety’?

Are you much more open minded than most people?

Are there gaping memory gaps around childhood/puberty years of your life?

Have you experimented with altered states of consciousness?

Do you think of plants and animals as just as important as human beings?

Have you had vivid dreams of flying?

Have you dreamed of being chased or of rescues?

Have you dreamed that you were in a classroom /taking odd exams?

Have you dreamed of crowded rides on buses/trains or dreamed you were travelling on a bicycle?

Have you dreamed of catastrophic wars/tidal waves/ mass evacuations?

Have you dreamed about odd or unusual small children ?

Have you dreamed/had nightmares about large bugs or large insects?

Have you ever dreamed of seeing / being aware while being underwater/or breathing underwater?

Have you ever dreamed that you were being surgically worked on?

Are you virtually immune/highly resistant to drugs like Novocain, requiring dentists to give up on you sometimes?

Do you have an exaggerated startle reflex?
For another fast ‘test’, ask yourself, “where are alien implants, in my body?” and allow your hands to wander, on their own; your unconscious mind will take over and you’ll notice where your hands reside…

Rather than blatant landings of alien craft on your front lawn (or the White House’s front lawn), the alien human abduction experience is subtle and ineffable, inter dimensional and elusive and predominates when we are asleep in R.E.M.s.

The images recalled as ‘dreams’ are, in truth, alien- imposed  scenarios, ‘tests’ that are so uniform from one abductee to the next they that seem almost stock footage in that so many similarities abound.

The residual post trauma of abductions resolves into a disease syndrome, containing many of the above emergent symptoms as clear indicators.

To those UFO investigators who cling only to ‘hard evidences’, I chide, how

can we ‘prove’, that reptilian aliens reportedly fancy the taste of human beings?

 

For years, at meetings at Bud Hopkins house in New York City, many abductees, over the years gleaned that ‘ we are a harvest’, a mere condiment in the Universe, an echo of Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone episode, “To Serve Man”, when it comes to reptilian diets of human flesh.

“Hard facts and empirical scientific evidence”, may assist with collecting evidences in superficial craft sightings, as logistics, but such an approach fails to reveal humankind’s continued interactions with non-human intelligence behind the steering wheels of UFOs.

 

The “Devil’s hour”, the last REM period in early morning is the worst time.

I have in OBEs encountered reptilian astral worlds designed and equipped to trap people’s souls, worlds almost as real as this one, where humans miserable, lost and frightened reside in darkness.

Restaurants, highways and large apartment buildings are filled with such ‘dead’ but not in Heaven, still trapped and lost souls.

When I recover from such virtual reality 3-D experiences, I remember to request,” All of my soul fragments trapped in astral worlds are to be first healed, and then returned to me, never to leave, again”, and I remember to pray for the lost souls who eat, live and travel in such distraction, not unlike this world, in synthetic reptilian reality constructs.

Startled and confused, I was moved to ask Peggy Kane,

a good friend and colleague, who specializes in reverse speech.

She has illuminated me, such that I now glow in the dark.

 

It’s better to see oneself as a hero rather than a victim.

Learn to unlearn fear and see yourself not as an alien beset person with a soul within, but as a soul eternal, who now has external  human problems, with aliens.

 

We all stumble in the dark, blindfolded, all of our lives, only to discover that we are deluded and mislead by those who offered us light, to travel the path.
Dreams, when one is harassed by these beings, are often recollections of snippets of psychic tampering by beings who see us as a product and not a sentient race and as such these dreams cannot be trusted to reveal greater truths.
Madness is an offshoot of encounters with them, a retribution for those seeking understanding and equanimity.

I force myself to not ‘look up’, anymore, after the ensemble overhead sighting of nine craft, I witnessed and after the concurrent poltergeist and telepathic disturbances and ‘nightmares’ that those ‘unseen’ critters astonishingly ‘pulled’ afterwards. .

They seemed to climb down the psychic ladder of my awe, into my house and life.

The focus on UFOs, the mere craft-Cadillac-vehicles, without mention of the occupant-pilots, or mention of E.T. pilots’ tactics and motives within that ‘sighting’, seems an E.T. clever Jedi-mind-trick, and after reading endless such “sightings” reports, makes me wonder, if there’s even intelligent life, on Earth..

There have been ‘positive’ offshoots :

an ontological shift unfurling God, far from ‘the-UFO- five-books-of-Moses,” and “New Testament”

an exploration of “dreams-that-weren’t-dreams”,

an awakening of spiritual essences E.T.s are addicted to,

adeptness with hypnosis and metaphysics ‘tools’,

and a comparable recognition of the never suspected unseen goodness, also afoot..

without these UFO/E.T. bizarre experiences and their awful suffering, no wind-attempting butterfly, but only an Earthbound-stolid caterpillar spirit , would have endured…

If you simply assure yourself, totally convinced, that you WILL remember, you will begin to recall odd “dream” snippets that for no logical reason, linger, upon awakening.

The simple trick is to play that snippet over, and over, like a tape machine until suddenly, what happened just before or just after , surfaces. In this way, using conscious effort, one can unfurl a larger segment to see through the disguise.

One can self-hypnotize suggestions to oneself to overcome the blockages.

I have spontaneously recalled my episodes without any regressive hypnosis inductions..

How to stop, amend and blunt these kidnappings is what is truly more tantamount than resolving deeper meanings..

 

 

We are in a hall of mirrors with a quicksand floor, and the truth, is that
we are all hybrids, rendered into naked apes, with DNA manipulations over eons, by the reptilian masters of the universe, who created this ‘preserve’, that we call Earth, who unpleasantly see us as a product, a harvestable crop, much as we see chickens.

 

POSTSCRIPT:
Director of CIA, Admiral R.H. Hillenkoetter:
“It is time for the truth to be brought out in open Congressional hearings. Behind the scenes, high-ranking Air Force officers are soberly concerned about UFOs.
But through official secrecy and ridicule, citizens are led to believe the unknown flying objects are nonsense.
To hide the facts, the Air Force has silenced its personnel.” p. 58, quoted from New York Times, February 28, 1960, p. L30
(“I’ve been convinced for a long time that the flying saucers are interplanetary. We are being watched by beings from outer space.” —Albert M. Chop, deputy public relations director, NASA, True Magazine , Jan. 1965. ”)
BIO:

Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for Paul, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL Paul saw aliens float him out of his body, in his bed, at night.

Then, he knew that they were interested in an essence that he never suspected that he had, a nonphysical soul.

Our spiritual powers that interest and addict inter-dimensionals are the very powers that can be used to thwart further attacks.

They infect auras with attachments to themselves and ride the reincarnation roller coaster with human beings, as a sanctuary, to avoid the death that they fear and to steal the spiritual recycling that we have.

Souls are garnered, detoured from our natural spiritual evolution in Heaven.

These joyriding grays can be sinister, discorporate alien souls, stuck to our energies, who bring a new meaning, to the concept of a silent invasion.

SEX IN PUBLIC, OR SHALL WE DANCE?


Sex in Public Places is Fabulous or Shall We Dance, Instead?

by

Paul Schroeder

Sex in Public Places is Fabulous or Shall We Dance, Instead?
“Sex isn’t the answer; sex, is the question; the answer is, “YES!” (Woody Allen)
Mark Twain once said, “No sane person dances”.

Must one be crazy to dance,

publicly ?

I thought long and hard about that statement, approached it from different angles of thought and pondered it.

Orthodox Hasidic Jews, believe that wild dance, ensemble, is a way to approach sublime Divine attainment, most tribal and ancient.

Is it the case that

those who were deaf, could not hear the music and thus thought the dancers insane?
What makes a person gyrate sexually in front of strangers? I finally accept that dancing is publicly symbolic sex, with the exception of Lambada, which IS sex, most graphic in public.

Lap dances and belly dances enthrall men as consummate sex fantasies unfurled, and these reside deep within our psyches.

Men who routinely go to “topless” bars to watch naked women dance, harbor a wild and degrading fantasy, an addictive stimulant, that seems just as unwholesome as public sexual gyrations to music.

But sex, in public?!


Sometimes, watching people dance, at weddings and parties, in, you’ll forgive the expression, “ballrooms”, I can see the symbolic give and take sex act in dance.Waltzes and Tangos are elegantly choreographed and highly polished sexual moves in partner synchronicity and poised ‘give and take’.I do also think that alcohol loosens inhibitions on the dancefloor as well as in dating.

Why do you think that men are so very willing to buy ladies drinks?!

“On-stage dance takes from sexuality practices “off-stage” and imaginatively stylizes them and possibly reinforces or challenges these practices that include expressions of sexual identity and attraction, flirtatiousness, friendliness, exhibitionism, eroticism, and love-making.”

(Hanna, Journal of Sex Research / March-June, 2010 )

Would one who is a Buddhist and contemplative, dance or would he resist the impulse as unabashed sexy exhibitionism?

After all, what is,”sanity”, if “no sane man dances”?

Drinking alcohol during a “cocktail hour”, before public dancing at such affairs may assist the temporary insanity inherent to very public sexual gyrations called dance.

Sexual unabashed exhibitionism?

I can often resist the impulse to publicly gyrate, or to circle dance or line dance amidst a large group of people by recalling Twain’s sentence.

But, if dance is truly symbolic sex, the horizontal mambo, then group dancing brings to mind another quote:

“Sex between two people can be a wonderful thing, among ten people, it’s just fabulous!”

To me, having unabashed multiple polygamous sexual partners is demonstrated by line dancing.

Dancing in public, however symbolically obscene in its blatant sexual gyrations, is not likely to expose one to HIV or STDs.

For one like me who will not dance, I wonder about the biological absurdity of dance and of sex.

There has to be a more dignified way of expressing your deep love and affection for another human being;

the human body is a odd marvel in that it has its waste disposal plant immediately next to its amusement park.

I and Twain, shall instead, sit this one out.