Meet the weird neighbors

Pornography causes brain mutation.

I
don't look at it myself. I try to be careful about looking at women
at all; my guess is that men think “I can handle it. It won't own
me, I've got it under control.”

Consider the lives of two guys I know.
Both were married, had children. Both had attractive wives, not in a
small way. The first one got so much lust on his brain that he
molested his daughter, a young girl. How could anyone make a gauge to
measure the effect and damage this does to a child? How can anyone
know the depths of offense and rage a mother feels when this happens
to her child? Her reaction doesn't reveal details in this instance, I
just cut her slack, because I cannot relate. I suppose that it's as
bad as it gets. A note however, if women see pornography in the
home, don't think it's racy adult stuff; know that this is a huge
threat to your children and family. You need to attack it as though
it were a molester caught in the act. Fingernails in the eyeballs,
whatever it takes. Really.

The other guy would be one of the last
I would suspect. Calm, intelligent, responsible, religious; like one
of the straight and narrow guys from a '50's TV show. And his wife,
man, top shelf stuff. There's a saying that I first heard from her
family:”Every lady is a woman, but not every woman is a lady”.
This lady personifies the first part of the saying. Nice personality,
great manners, good with children, has memorized lots of Bible
passages, from what I've seen, she's as good as it gets. That's just
how she acts; her looks, well, they equal the way she acts; I trying
to say that as tactfully as I can.

So this guy has her all to himself.
But he gets the mutated brain from porn syndrome, and starts visiting
prostitutes. Think about what a prostitute is: Back when, 40 years
ago, I guess there were two or three venereal diseases going around.
Now I understand there are close to 40. My guess is that some of
these bacteria and viruses wouldn't last long exposed to the
elements, they need to live in a host body. Sort of like a petri dish
in a lab. A prostitute is a walking bacteria repository, billions
upon billions of them being sustained there in her body fluids and
members. Carried about and kept alive in the host organism. Like a
mega bank of microscopic activity where the clients come and make
deposits and withdrawals. They take away more than they bargained
for; they probably don't want to know. It might not be possible to
know till years later. That's just the physical aspect, is it
possible to pick up spirits there too?

This guy traded stunning gal that he
had all to himself; for filthy science lab, that every guy shared.
Lots of guys. No qualifications other than money, day after day, how
many guys does she do in a day? 10? 20? I honestly don't know.

This is brain mutation. No doubt both
of these guys thought they could handle looking at pornography.

You might be surprised how technical a nice looking piece of graphic art can be. Much of what makes one design look more appealing than another can be measured; and has been put into rules and principles for consistently making better work. There is a point though, where inspiration and emotion move a design further.

Regardless of how neat looking the work is, if I spend a lot of uninterrupted hours on it, I get over familiar. I can't tell if it's appealing any more. I call this the P.O.O.F. Fortunately for me, a quick remedy is to look at it in reverse. Hold it up to a mirror. Then the relationships of the lines, spaces and curves shows in an new way, and I can tell if I'm going the right way with it.

Think how this applies to other things, such as relationships. Think if you had been single for five years, and just met your spouse for the first time. If you both were at the same meeting, you would remember their presence as much as or more than whatever else happened there. Then there's the first time you're in a smaller group together. Man, SHE (he) was there. Then imagine if you were single, and you both were sitting on the same couch or bench. You go home to do your usual routines, but your mind keeps going back to HER (or him). Then there's the first time you put your hand on hers, or he put his hand on yours. Man, oh golly, if I have to use a power saw today, I need to concentrate, lest I lose a finger.

Try this mindset next time you're near your spouse. They'll see you standing there all wide eyed and mumbling something about “It's HER...” but they won't mind too much. For the really big application, think about the first time you knew God was interested in you.