Message from John Carter

This blog is rated R and is not appropriate for people under the age of 18. If you are offended by gay content, please move on and read some other blog.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Why We Fight


In 1941, shortly after the Japanese attack on Pearl harbor, the United States government commissioned the director, Frank Capra, to film a series of short movies that would explain to the American people why they were compelled to fight in World War II.  Capra, the director of such classics as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington  and It's a Wonderful Life, turned out a series of films that mixed animation and live-action film that were intended to galvanize the home front and motivate the American people to fight.

Well, no one has commissioned me, but I want to try and urge you to define, for yourself, why you want to wrestle.  Why you want to strip off your shirt and come to grips--literally--with your fellow man.

The pic at the top of this post is as good an advertisement for wrestling as anything I can think of.  It captures a lot of the basic aspects of our fetish--our sport.  Granted, the clean-cut young guy above may not be everyone's perfect wrestling date.  I know some guys prefer a hairy chest or a larger guy.  Maybe you think only pro wrestlers are really hot.  But, that is not the point.  The point is that we can use a pic like that above to start a conversation about why we want to do what we do.

Undeniably, there is something about a muscular male.  We love to look at them in their tight jeans, their briefs, their fight shorts, their...well...nothing.  The male form, when it has been enhanced by exercise and good diet is a thing to behold.  And a thing to be held.  Tightly, in a headlock.

There is something primal about the male form.  Something that draws our eyes and makes us get hard.  On some basic level, it's actually hard to see why a guy turns us on as opposed to a girl.  They both have the same flesh.  The same eyes.  But with guys, it is the promise of strength, of masculinity, of fellowship and friendship.  It is an arm around your shoulder.  A big hand on your ass.  It is a bicep flexed until it wants to pop and two rounded pecs just aching to be worked over.

It is a round, bubble butt.  Two thick, hairy legs.  It is childhood re-lived and adolescence re-awakened.

Wrestling is about getting to know someone.  Really getting to understand a person.  There is a reason why guys on wrestling teams hang on each other.  They are used to the feel of another man's body, and they are unafraid of the touch.  They understand that it means something more than just sexual desire.  It means friendship.  It means maleness.

We, as adults.  Especially, gay male adults, want that in our lives.  We seek out other men like ourselves who want to bond on some level.  We are not necessarily looking for boyfriends.  We are instead searching for the companionship that the ancient Greeks took for granted.  The closeness that comes with physical exertion.  The bonding that follows a well fought battle.

We fight.  We box.  We wrestle.  We get each other in holds and taunt each other.

We fight.  Not because we hate.  Not because we are angry.  But because we are seeking a better form of friendship.  A more pure form of male bonding.

So we fight.

    

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Who's Got the Muscle?


 
My output has fallen off quite a bit, hasn’t it?  That was not intentional.  My real life just seems to get in the way of my wrestling life, sometimes.  It’s annoying, really, but also somewhat unavoidable.

This has been one of the most unbelievably beautiful summers we’ve had done south in quite a while.  I know some of the country has gotten too much rain, but down here we’ve gotten just enough and we’ve had several cool days.  Not exactly typical August weather. 

Man, it would have been great to get out in the backyard and wrestle.  You know, strip off your shirt and wrestle with your buddy on the cool grass.  Maybe under a full moon.  I’d howl.



But, I have not done any wrestling in a while.  I’ve had a few people contact me and ask to wrestle, but unfortunately they’ve contacted me on the day they’ve shown up in town.  You guys know how that is.  You can’t always shake loose and run off to wrestle.  It takes at least a little planning.

Lately I’ve been re-evaluating this blog.  I think I might have hurt a few feelings with some of my recent posts.  That was not my intention.  I’ve never meant to offend anyone. 

That may be the reason I have not written much lately.  I’d forgotten that I can’t write just anything in these posts.  I have to keep in mind that people I’ve wrestled read them.  The bad thing it that several of the matches I’ve had over the last few months have not been that much fun.  I’ve talked about those—for the most part—so I won’t re-hash all that.

[Note: No every match I’ve had recently was unpleasant.  The weekend in Memphis was fun.]

But my point is that it has made me a bit gun-shy about writing. 

I am not giving up on wrestling.  A friend of mine called me the other day.  He’s had a rough time of it the last half year or so, but he wound up consoling me more than I consoled him.  He mentioned that he was worried I’d lost my enthusiasm for wrestling. 

I haven’t.  Not yet.  Although it has been dented a bit. 

I still want to strip down and wrestle guys.  I still want to feel their strength against mine.  I still want to oil up and feel our bodies pressed up against each other as we roll and turn and try to control each other.  I want my hard cock working against a firm set of abs.  I want to flex my biceps and attempt to intimidate my opponent.

And I will.  It will happen again.

I’ll just have to wait out this lean time until it does.

And I will watch what I write.  I’m going to be truthful.  I have to be that.  Otherwise, why keep this blog at all?  If I can’t express myself here, in these posts, then I’m back to where I was originally.  Locked inside my mind.  Unable to talk about my experiences.  Unable to try and work out my desires.  My likes and dislikes.  Unable to express my unbridled joy at getting to wrestle a hot guy.  Unable to speak about what moves me the deepest.

So, I will keep wrestling.  And I will keep writing.

But I’ll edit myself at least enough not to hurt anyone’s feelings.