I don't generally have excessively gay moments, as you have undoubtedly noticed.  That is to say, I'm usually not a flamer and don't normally make a commotion about what I think of men unless I'm talking to very close friends.  In fact, other than Rick and a brief mention of xocobra's "soccer boy butt," when have I discussed any man in a sexual context?  Never.

Many people think, because I'm gay, that this site must be full of gay porn and discussions about this hot guy and the next.  Sorry to disappoint you.  That's just never been my overriding style.

I am, however, a sexual person like everyone else.  To claim otherwise is to be dishonest.  We are all sexual beings; we all think about the object that piques our interest, that makes us stop and take notice, that gives us that special feeling in all the right places.

You know what I'm talking about.  Don't play coy with me.

This happens to be one of those times when I slide out of my normal façade and demonstrate, for all the world to see, just precisely how gay I am when it counts.  Concomitant with my normal self — that part of me that you've seen here for the last few years — is the part of me that thinks in sexual contexts.

Hey, I'm not inhuman.  I feel things like every other person on the planet.  I'd love to be able to talk to all of my friends about how I feel when I feel it.  I generally haven't in this venue, although I do talk about such things with those I'm comfortable with.  This is America after all, and we don't do that kind of thing here.  As a homosexual man I'm not allowed to have those kinds of feelings.

That being the case…

Fuck America!

My feelings are as important as the next person, regardless of gender or sexual orientation.  For that reason I'm kicking off this new category — Men — to address that part of me.

As a gay man in America, I'm not really allowed to feel much of anything.  American society tolerates me more easily if I don't actually act or feel in ways that would demonstrate my homosexuality.  I generally keep these kinds of feelings to myself.  Here in the land of the free it's better to act like you're no different from everyone else.  That's just how it is.  Pathetic, I know, and terribly sad.  Welcome to America, poppets.

Still, get over it.  I grow so weary of the games and the pretensions and the need to be like everyone else in order to be accepted.  I'm not normally obsequious, especially in social matters, so why should this be any different?

My friends — my true friends — accept me the way I am.  More importantly, I accept me the way I am.  And as Teresa of Avila said, "Self-knowledge is of such importance, that even if you were to be raised to the highest heavens, I should not want to stop your cultivation of it…"

My sexual id — that primitive part of me that functions on a purely physical level — as well as that part of me which thinks in terms of my own gender are both important pieces of my self-knowledge, but more to the point, important pieces of me.

There are also times when, as a man, I want to talk about men in a general context — about how dumb they can be, how blinded they can be by very simple things, how they — especially American men — suffer from such extreme and various societal hang-ups, and a myriad of other topics about — wait, here it comes — men.

Don't expect grand elucidations.  You should have learned not to expect that from me by now.  You can expect, however, general considerations and insight regarding the male gender from someone who knows a bit about them (being one helps, of course).  I'll also use this to discuss men in sexual contexts.  Don't expect luridly pornographic writings or pictures as that is not the intent.

Editor's note: As an example of what this new topic will be used for, I've already moved the Relativity series into this category.  That's the kind of content you can expect to be included here.