|Love the Good Women, Boys, Love the Good Women|
by Julian X  /  non-fiction  /  19 Sep 2008
Iíve said, in different ways and in different places, that women should love the good men -- because there are few. There are many players, men who relate to women as prospective entries in a series of sexual objects, who donít listen to women, feel that they have souls. And there are few men who think, who let themselves feel, who have the courage to criticize themselves and challenge themselves enough to become great men. And too many women surrender their sex, offer that blood sacrifice that is deflowering, to mediocre men out of desperation for love, out of desire to believe that their unthinking, unexamined lies and promises, irrelevant even when meant because they lack the self-discipline to put them into practice. Men, even those of vast mind and sensitive souls, have penises, penises that feel better than one can imagine when surrounded by soft, wet flesh. And pleasing such good men means more, and feels better, than any string of gigolos.
But the reverse is also true: there are few good women, trustworthy women, women who wonít leave or break their vows when things grow uncomfortable, women smart enough to appreciate good men and love them. And there too are many women who donít think, who distance themselves from their real feelings as a defensive tactic. A person who sees her man or his woman upset and wants to do something to help, instinctively, is a good person. A good woman will suck her man because she just wants to please you, not to get or to keep you interested. A good woman will understand that her man, no matter how intelligence, how sensitive, is a man. But, as important as sex, far more important is the comfort, the joy of a loving companion. A good woman is a blessing.
This is not a world for love. It is not easy to admit that a womanís smile fills you with happiness. It is a brave, brave thing we do when we confess ourselves, when we attend our souls. This is not a world for lovers. But it is not a world in which we want to live without love. No matter the career success, the affirmation of others, there is that loneliness that comes at night and greets us in the morn, that haunts us. That spectre is one of a livable world, and in confessing love, when reasonably attached to someone reliable unto it, in pursuing that love, we attempt to redeem this world.
Let us valorize the warrior, the one who rails against life, who puts his values beyond himself. But let us equally valorize the lover, no less a warrior when she or he finds the courage to be open, to confess oneís feeling and confusion, radically to combat oneís reactionary defensiveness, ruthlessly to expunge the selfishness that sees subjection to oneís loverís pleasure, despite that it so immediately pleases oneself to see it.
Love the good women, boys, love the good women.
This essay was written on 24 April 2002 and first published online on 2 January 2003.
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