When I was in high school, I went the first three years without a girlfriend. It wasn’t until my Senior Year that a green-eyed blonde made it known that she was attracted to me. She was my first official girlfriend. Age 18.
This was in a place called Augusta, Georgia in 2004…aka the Dirty South, circa Outkast’s “Hey Ya” and Usher’s “Yeah.”. My point in mentioning this, is that I’m black. My first official girlfriend was white. No, no one gave me grief about this (not to my face). But I do remember something interesting happening.
While I was “going out” with said Green-Eyed Beauty, she and I were walking back to classes from the cafeteria, and a black girl tapped me. I looked over my shoulder to see her gesturing towards her friend, a gorgeous black girl who had to be a junior. I didn’t know her, but we had locked eyes before in passing. She was tall, in-shape, had a gentle smile…the type I would’ve undoubtedly said yes to. But I was already with someone. So I smiled and declined apologetically. Remember this incident for later…
I know… the Devil is Working Hard To Make It Seem Like You Don’t Exist. When you see what’s going on in the world, and you know you’re no part of it, it does feel rather hopeless, as it did last year, when you see mass groups of people rising up in common anger, indignation, but ultimately a purpose. A purpose that may be far different from your own.
We as Christians know that you can’t put your faith in human beings. All these calls for “justice” and “equality” are futile notions because we know the justice and equality they’re talking about isn’t universal. Meaning, it isn’t justice and equality for everyone, just them and their ilk, and their feelings.
With Black Lives Matter particularly, even after the Chauvin Verdict, we already see them and SJWs moving the goal post. They got their desired verdict but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. Let me repeat that. It WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH.
Don’t worry, this isn’t a long essay. I’ll be brief.
A lot of people are sharing their thoughts on Derrick Jaxn…I have some too. I first found out about this guy from one of my relatives a couple of years ago. I can’t remember which cousin or aunt posted his videos, but when I first heard him speak…I was impressed.
As a guy who believes in treating women right, regardless of race, I liked Derrick Jaxn’s message. He was basically telling men how they should be treating women with respect, honoring their wives, to stop cheating. All good things. But one thing I started to notice rather quickly…was that’s all he did. Bash men. It seemed like women could do no wrong, it’s never a woman’s fault. It’s always the men who are doing wrong to women. Men are bad. Men are dogs. And understandably…this created a huge swath of men, on Youtube and the Real World, who began to hate Derrick Jaxn. It was like he was throwing men under the bus and making himself holier than thou.
This was years ago. Since then, his following has grown. Mostly female followers. Almost every comment from his female fans was praise towards Jaxn and hate and spite towards men. There was almost no accountability towards the women, and when he did post a video encouraging women to get better, it was usually followed up with more men bashing. As in, women could do well…if only men weren’t so bad. Particularly, black men.
I know…I know. These days, the term “Red-Pill” is tossed around so much that it’s beginning to sound cringy. (click here to view the Youtube Video of this Essay)
Fundamentally, the Red Pill is a simply a process of enlightenment by which an individual’s eyes are opened to a worldview they didn’t know existed, or they were conditioned into thinking the worldview was wrong. Like the Matrix, once you take this “red pill,” you can’t go back to the matrix. Meaning, you can’t go back to being ignorant and unaware.
What prompted me to write this essay, was a recent video the popular Youtubers Aba and Preach uploaded, titled “Why We Think the Red-Pill is Necessary”...it was coincidental, because not even the week before, I wrote a similar essay called “Men Aren’t Allowed to Cry,” which explains how and why Men need some form of community where they can openly reveal their thoughts and emotions no matter how taboo or offensive the mainstream deems it to be…like that of Men’s Rights Activists.
If any of this is new to you, you’re likely to cringe at the concept of a Men’s Rights Activist. Disbelief and cynicism will probably be your first emotional response and it’s understandable. Like so many, we’re taught from birth that this is a “Man’s World,” and “Men have it Better than Women” and its mainly women who are oppressed and held back. So why in the world, would there need to be a Men’s Rights Activist? What could they possibly have to complain about?
When it comes to the Old Testament…sometimes I really do take the stories of God’s servants to heart. As if I’m reading the memoirs of my own blood brothers who died long ago, who passed down what happened, what they did wrong, and how we can avoid making the same mistakes. I have to honor that.
As I mentioned in previous essays, the first time I read about Solomon praying for wisdom…it really had a life-changing effect on me. I felt so much shame because, until then, all I did was constantly pray for success as an author or success in finding a beautiful woman who I could call my wife. It was all for me, whereas Solomon prayed for the ability to help others.
To give you a recap in case you haven’t read Part 1, Solomon is the new king of the powerful nation of Israel. The third king, in fact, following the succession of King Saul, then his father King David, an extraordinary man who was said to have a heart after God himself.
Solomon had a very turbulent upbringing. His mother was seduced while still married to another man. His eldest half-brother raped his half-sister. Another half-brother, the popular Absalom, tried to take the throne from his father King David. And while David swore to make Solomon the next king, another half-brother tried to usurp the throne through nefarious schemes.
Almost in Godfather-like fashion, Solomon finally had enough of all the games and treachery and cleaned his house. He had his older brother killed, the commander of his father’s army killed, another man who cursed his father was killed, and he exiled a priest to end the line of Eli.
Now…we pick it up in 1st Kings Chapter 3. Here, we read that Solomon loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of David his father. It’s here that we learn about God appearing to Solomon in a dream and saying “Ask what I shall give you.”
The life of King Solomon is one of my favorite wells to soak in inspiration and wisdom. It’s easy to gloss over the complexities when you read the Scriptures, but there’s so many layers to unpack. It’s a story of lust, strategy, triumph, and tragedy. Not to mention, captivating. Makes “Game of Thrones” look like child’s play.
When it comes to Solomon, we’re a talking about the son of one of the most powerful kings who ever lived, whose mother was seduced, and her first husband was sent to his death. We’re talking about a man who witnessed as his family turned on each other for the sake of greed or revenge. A man whose sister was raped by a half-brother. A man who received the greatest wisdom and wealth ever bestowed…and yet he threw it all away by putting the love of women before his love of God.
So, let’s back it up and really dive into who he was and what he saw as a young child that shaped the king he’d grow up to be.
The Adultery of David and Bathsheba
King David…Everyone knows the story of David and Goliath. It’s a childhood classic. The smaller, younger David defeated the 9-foot giant of a man in Goliath by slinging a stone to the Philistine’s head. Of course, it wasn’t David acting on his own. God (Jehovah) was with him. It was God who guided the stone that killed Goliath.
But even before he killed Goliath, hahaha! You get a sense of David’s zeal when he visited his older brothers on the battlelines and saw Goliath taunting the Israelites to combat.
Young David’s response in 1st Samuel 17:26 was “What shall be done for the man who kills this Philistine and takes away the reproach from Israel? For who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?”
In this essay, I’m going to talk about why it may not be a good idea for a Man to be so open and honest about his feelings…especially when it comes to Men’s Issues.
When it Comes to the Stereotype About How Men Aren’t Supposed to Cry, how we’re not suppose to expose our feelings and keep everything bottled up…the mindset was, as men, we have to suck it up and power through. You have to work for everything you get. There are no handouts. No one cares about your tears and your feelings. Now get back out there!
I know it sounds nice and empowering for people to encourage men to fight against that stigma…to embrace their feelings, to allow themselves to be emotional and let out their pain and sorrows…
But is that really working for men in general? Meaning, I know all that sounds nice in the spirit of equality and breaking down gender tropes. But when it comes to reality…how are Men really perceived and treated when they open up about how they honestly feel? How are they treated when they show themselves to be emotional? How do people respond when Men honestly open up about their life problems?
Are people sympathetic? When men receive feedback and constructive criticism, is it with the same care and general softness given to a woman? Or do people just don’t give a shit?
Sounds silly to lament being invited to parties…but here goes. First and foremost, I want to say that it’s not lost on me, the honor it is that people want to be around me, that people want me to attend these functions and social events, that they enjoy my company. *bows humbly *
Recently, there was a party for my Boss’s Radio network where fans and personalities came out and had fun. As a co-host, I was invited but declined. When a Woman asked, “Rock, you don’t like to socialize?”
I answered, “No. Not really.”
That’s the truth. But as always, there’s more to it than that. And when I try to explain to people how I’m different, they tend to struggle with comprehension or, flat out just don’t want to believe me. So…for the love of all I hold dear, here’s the Top 4 Reasons Why Social Events are Not for Me. It comes replete with funny memes, followed by the remedy, conditions that would actually make me want to attend.
REASON 1. SOCIALIZING BECOMES A PERFORMANCE:
When I answered the question of “socializing” and said “no, not really…” this is true. But here’s the thing. I can and do socialize all the time. I’m actually pretty good at it. And one of the coolest compliments I get is that I’m fun and easy to talk to. The question was, “do I like it?”
In the context of a party or large gathering, the answer is a resounding “no.” Why? Because I have to watch what I say. Because you’re likely to deal with an audience. It’s not just a conversation between you and a few individuals, but between you and whoever’s within earshot, which could be ten to twenty.
Not to mention the countless curious eyes staring from afar at the big black dude who seems to be center of attention. Being the center of attention is another thing I don’t like. I’m 6’3, 225lbs. In high school, they called it stage presence. I was told I should just get used to it, but when you get to my “Reason Number 3,” you’ll understand why I hate it in a party setting.
“Hang on, Rock? What exactly do you talk about at parties? It’s supposed to be fun. Why are you talking about these deep controversial things?”
So…let’s back it up, for a sec. What’s the point of a party or get together? To socialize, right? To network. To have fun. To catch up. To lay back, drink a beer, dance, and be entertained. Right? Why go to a party if you’re not planning on having a good time?
What if I told you that none of those things are fun to me? Click to watch video below if you’d rather listen than read.
In reading the Bible cover to cover, the biggest change of my life is that it freed me from this world. Life is so much more fulfilling now…now that I know my purpose and the blessings that’ll come from simply enduring until the end.
My relationship with human beings…it’s a love/hate relationship. I have so much compassion for them as my brethren and God’s created children. But I also feel the same indignation any brother would feel when you see them walking down a path of destruction, especially when you know what our parents told us. And just like any brother when everyone’s all grown up, you have to accept that your siblings are free to make their own decisions, they’re own choices.
Imagine this…Everyone’s on the Titanic and we’re told the ship is going to sink at some point. You look around and everyone’s having a good time but because you heard the captain, you know the Titanic is going to get hit by an iceberg. You don’t know when. So you’re told to remain awake. If you accept the captain’s orders and do what you’re told, your place is reserved on the lifeboats. But everyone else…they’re going down with the ship.
It hasn’t happened yet. And because it hasn’t happened, despite being told to stay awake for so long…the people lack faith. They stop believing. They say the captain’s orders don’t make sense. They begin to think they know better than the captain. They criticize and make fun of you for following the captain’s orders instead of indulging in the fun inebriation they lose themselves in. Even the ones who believed in the beginning start to fall away. They see everyone else having a good ole’ time, sleeping and partying, so they think to themselves that maybe the ship won’t sink after all. They stop following orders. They ignore the captain.
Then the inevitable happens. The ship hits an iceberg. The massive Titanic that everyone had so much faith in, that they believed was unsinkable…it begins to list. Chaos and panic ensues. Just as the captain warned, the only ones who will be saved on the lifeboats are the ones who obeyed his commands until the end.
Jesus Christ teaches us to love our brothers and sisters, to love our fellow neighbors as we would ourselves. If I was in one of those lifeboats watching as the ship went down…I imagine I’d be clenching my teeth in grief and frustration. I’d wish I didn’t care…but God knows I do. Those are my brothers and sisters on that ship.
I’m not afraid of dying…Sure, everyone has some anxiety about how we die, but the concept doesn’t fear me. Because I believe without a shadow of doubt that there’s something better…after all this.
I don’t like this world. During this time of Pandemic, I keep getting asked when I go out to the gym and drive to and from work, whether I’m afraid of catching the Coronavirus…my answer is no. This isn’t out of ignorance or some arrogance that I think I’m impervious to the disease…But more so, I just don’t cling to this world the way most people do.
And it makes sense for me. You keep hearing all these slogans about how we’re “AloneTogether”…but really, we’re not. I’m a 34-year-old man who lives by himself. Most of my family are hundreds of miles away. I have no wife, no children, no love interests. This isn’t to complain. Just stating the facts. If I caught the Coronavirus and died, the people I love will be taken care. I’d have no regrets. I won’t miss anything about this world. My eyes are fixated on something better.
Stage In The Sky 