The Anonymous Cowardice

"Anonymous"

It's a name that every time I see the beginning of a comment, "Anonymous said...", I become royally pissed. And that's being civil and polite. The actions that run through my mind in retaliation are dangerously far from civil, therefore by no means polite.

The reason I become so enraged is because everytime someone signs a comment "Anonymous", it is a negative comment. Negative in a way that is not always because it goes against my opinion, but because it's totally cynical. Cynicism that is born out of company-loving misery. Well, I have no interest in joining you in your misery, and I don't care to subject my readers to it either. So you can keep that negativity to yourself.

Now, I understand the human psyche enough to know not everyone can agree on a matter, no matter how many valid points one feels they have made. So when someone disagrees with me, while I may feel they are going down the wrong path because of their belief, I have to accept the fact that they disagree. That is IF they validate their comment, and you can validate your comment by simply leaving a name.

An actual name gives a personality to what you have to say. It gives it humanity. The name "Anonymous" says that you are too much of a chicken shit to back up your opinion. And the most likely reason a person doesn't want to validate their opinion is because they know their opinion disputes a fact, and of course facts always far surpass opinions. So if their opinion is responded to with one or more facts, the coward using "Anonymous" doesn't have to face his/her name being associated with their error in judgement, or in some cases - blatant stupidity.

Now while my blog is here run by Blogger which is part of Google, I won't accept the excuse I received recently from someone using "Anonymous" as being that "I don't have a Google account".

If you read the instructions to making comments, that's a bullshit excuse, and the only way you can get away with it is if you have some kind of reading disorder. You can easily put in a name without having a Google account. And you can easily find that out if you are truly determined to stand behind your comment and validate it with a name.

The Internet has given these cowards a veil to hide behind. I see that name "Anonymous" pop up on all too many blogs with the dumbest things to say. Showing how they are so desperate for attention, that they'll lessen the worth of their existence by making an ass of themselves. And if you are one of those who use "Anonymous" as that veil, then YES - the cowardly desperate dumb ass I am speaking is you, you, YOU.

What are you afraid of?

I've sparred with regular readers in the past, and even though I have disagreed with them, they still have my respect because I have a name to remember them by, and by that among other things, they showed a great deal of intellect in the process.

We are all adults here. I would like to think we can all act like it, therefore be adult enough to stand behind what we say with a name for everyone in the blogsphere to know us by. Especially when we're speaking words of wisdom. Because there is no need to hide behind the cowardice of anonymity when you are showing a worthwhile intellect.

With this in mind, I'm going to leave you with the same advice your parents should have told you. If they did, good for them and shame on you for not listening. But if they didn't, then "Anonymous" - you are clearly showing how the apple doesn't fall far from the tree when it comes to being absolutely useless.
The advice is, "If you don't have any worthwhile to say, don't say anything at all."

Whether I'm repeating myself, or telling you for the 1st time, at least I know you've been told. Now get it together, show some smarts, and grow a pair, so you're not afraid to show you have a brain. Thank you.

The Radical Tré Xavier

My mother has often teased me calling me a "radical". And believe it or not, I take it as a compliment.

While the term "radical" usually refers to one or more people who use extreme and often physically harmful tactics to incite change, my mother is stating how aggressive I am in my verbal attacks to incite change. It's something you've seen here often, and I have been that aggressive since I was a child. Perfect example - how many grade school children would verbally retaliate against a bully by saying,"You act the way you do, because your mother didn't raise you right." And when I would say that, I meant it wholeheartedly, and nearly 30 years later, I don't regret it, because it was true then, and it still hold true of kids today.

The truth, God-given human rights, and equality have always been my motivators to take the stands that I have, do, and will take in my life, and although I am capable of physically defending myself (because I'm actually quite stronger that the perception my size would create), words have always been my weapon of choice even before I became self-aware of my writing abilities. And I have no qualms about the fact that it has made me not one of management or administration's favorite employees on my day job at "KKLLP". Because at least they know with me - to watch their step. If I played bobble-head doll like most, they wouldn't think twice about raking me over the coals.

Splash here in NY which is a bar with a bunch of tables and stools that get removed around 10 PM, so it can then become a club. I've been there when this change takes place, and seen when just a single-digit number of people hit the dancefloor. I told a co-worker from my day job about this, and how when I get on it, after about 5 minutes, a whole bunch of people get on the dancefloor as well, and they start from around me and spread out from there. This happens no matter where I am on the dancefloor - the center, far right, far left, front or back. My co-worker told me based on what he's seen of me at each year's office Christmas party, that I give off an energy that everyone wants to be around, which is great. The problem is so many of those people seems to be citizens of Rhythmless Nation, as opposed to citizens of Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation.

What does this have to do with my writing?

Because the way that energy comes off in my dancing is the same way I want it to come off in my writing, thereby affecting my readers. Especially when I dealing with an issue, like racism. I want the passion I have to change this to be infectious, because if it is then more people will take a stand to make that change happen. Some like a couple of people who commented on the story Gay Porn Times did on my post about Asians in gay porn, see what I do as simple complaining. Well, it is not complaining when so many others feel the same, and no one is making any noise. Then it's called "getting the ball rolling". It's called "inciting needed change". And since I'm not a studio head, that's the best I can do at this juncture. At least I'm not seeing that there's a problem, and making myself into a jellyfish by just ignoring the problem, and not speaking on it.

This has always been my way. From poetry writing as a child, to singing and songwriting in my adult years. In fact, as a singer and songwriter, my goal was to write music that would change the world from becoming the overload of self-loathing, and lack of loving your fellow man that it is today. I sent out demo tapes with message music, and record labels wouldn't hear of it. You see, they'll take a message album from an established artist, but a new artist who plans to build their career on songs with a message, record companies heavily promote only 1 song, making them 1-hit wonders.

So with that game plan, what do we now have?

Homophobic hip-hop rappers raking in millions, teaching our next generation how to be shallow individuals "all about the bling", and disrespectful to women by calling them "bitches" as a general term. I saw the industry going in this direction which is why I stopped pursuing it. While I matured enough to realize that I couldn't change the world, I knew what I had to say had the chance of inspiring much need change in just 1 person. And that 1 person might become someone who creates a domino effect of good will, instead of the ghetto trash thinking our young people are heavily influenced by now.

If what I do is seen as radical behavior, do I have any intentions of changing it?

NOT AT ALL, because the world needs louder voices for the right, so we can overpower the ones that are wrong and winning the battle. So if you feel passionate about a wrong-doing, if you can't voice it, write it down, or get on your keyboard and type it. Let modern technology work to the greater good's advantage as it has for the greater evil's. Hence the reason I came up with the saying on this blog's page:
In 1839, Edward Bulwer-Lytton coined the phrase, “The pen is mightier than the sword”. Well now, thanks to the computer age, the pen has an ally. And it’s called - “the keyboard.”

I'm not trying to blow my own horn, but I'm proud of who I've become, making the noise that I make. Because I'm a peaceful person, and the only one who sees me as a threat or troublemaker - are the ones guilty as sin.

Me and My Fleshjack - A Better View

At Daniel Nardicio's Pride party, "Cruising At The Trucks", there was a Fleshjack-Off Booth, where guys went in, masturbated using a Fleshjack and it was videotaped without showing your face. Now if you recall my Fleshlight video, you know I enjoyed myself. The Fleshlight I used was made like an anus. This one was made like a mouth. I was so horned up from all the playing I was doing before going to that booth, along with the cocks I saw shooting loads in the booth before me, I was about to shoot my load in like 2 minutes. So I had to pace myself. And for this video, I had to pace myself again, because those Fleshjack feel soooooooo good, it makes you eager to shoot your load, but you know it's way too soon.

Instead of telling you how I paced myself, why don't I show you. Since Blogger is giving me problems embedding the video, I gave you the link instead so you can see for yourself how I had to pace myself again, because those Fleshjacks feel sooooooo good, it makes you eager to shoot your load when you know it's way too soon. Since I now have a real video camera, instead of the webcam I used in my 1st video, I can show my pacing skills at work. Enjoy.

I hope you liked it, and I didn't get any on you. That is, unless you wanted me to.

I Am The Most Beautiful

Monday morning, my friend Andrew took me as his guest to the Saints At Large party, "Champions". I ran into someone there whose name my most loyal readers have not heard for some time - Igor.

A few months ago was his birthday, and since I have grown to where I don't have to think of him as dead to me because the Chelsea boy mentality that he had at the time did not fit in my world, I tried to be a better man and sent him this email:

Hi Igor,

They say never say never
But while I doubt that we'll ever be friends again
I do hope that another year has made you wiser
Therefore, more so the person of depth
I always hoped you were

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Peace, Love, and Faith 4 Infinity

He replied saying "Thanks" and that he claiming he found it to be a nice surprise from me.

Well during the "Champions" party, I realized that he was within viewing distance from me with some of his friends. I had 2 conflicting inner-voices. The 1st voice said, "Look at his friends. You need to see this. Look at them."

The 2nd voice said, "What the fuck for? In my desire to better my inner-self by being less shallow, I've decided that he and his kind have no place in my life."

The 1st voice replied, "That's why you need to look. To see whether or not "him and his kind" are the same bad thing you remember. So please - look?"

I caved and looked at them, and what I saw made me appalled with myself.

There was not 1 guy in that clique who didn't look like the gym was not his 2nd (maybe even 1st home) and gulps a body-building drink like it had the same necessity to living as water. They were all the negative stereotype of Chelsea boys. I say negative stereotype because I have yet to meet anyone that focused on their physique and their looks, yet have an equally beautiful character. The only ones who find that character beautiful is someone just as void of that inner-beauty.

What made me appalled with myself was remembering the fact that I was at one time one of those pretty people in his clique. And while I can be proud of the fact that the reason I'm still not in it is because my depth of character would not allow it, it doesn't change the fact that I was at risk of losing and not bettering that depth by being in his circle. Had I lost that, I would not have bettered myself to the point I am now where I can say compared to any Chelsea boy and one who shares those "standards", that "I am the most beautiful. And not because of the face and body that gets so many compliments from you, but because I have a heart I want to share with you, instead of hiding its light in a gym or blocking its shine by drenching it in a bevy of drinks from GNC."

So it seems that my birthday wish for Igor did not come true. If it did, i would not have seen what I saw. A group of friends so contrary to what I have. For I have friends that are all beautiful, but not by the Chelsea boy standard. They are all beautiful by the standard of being worthwhile existences by displaying humanity. My friends come in all colors, body types, and financial backgrounds. With Chelsea boys (and the like-minded counterparts across the globe) you need to have a certain financial standing to be an acceptable presence. After all, it takes a lot of money to make yourself pretty - especially when it's only for outer beauty.

I stopped going to events like "Champions" because it is such a tired scene of narcissistic cliques that is now become very much beneath me. It is a scene where the energy and fun you thrive on is that which you make yourself. I had fun, but it was made solely by me. I'm sure plenty of other party-goers fun and energy was drug induced. Therefore, the only way you'll be foolish enough to believe you're joining others in their energy is if you're on some drug that makes you that delusional.

I'm glad I saw Igor. I always wondered whether or not he had changed. And if he did change, then I would have felt sorry for kicking him out of my life. Now I see, I have nothing to feel sorry for, but I would have rather felt sorry than what I feel now. Because my feeling sorry would have meant that he accomplished maturing, so he did the right thing. Instead the reality is I did the right thing, because I accomplished maturing with no grudges weighing on me. The right thing that makes me the most beautiful where it counts - in the heart, mind, and soul.