11-13-2011, 02:57 PM (This post was last modified: 12-11-2011 11:48 PM by 420Guy.)
Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
I am pleased to announce the release of Modern Boylover Magazine, Issue #11 - our 5th Anniversary special edition! In celebration of this, each BL board involved in making MBM what it is today has its own unique front cover! Thanks to everyone involved in making it happen!
Congratulations goes out to Ansset! His logo won our contest, and is featured on the cover(s) for this issue!
Thanks for being patient with us, you can find links to Issue #11 below!
-click for larger size-
PDF - View/Download (right-click & 'save as' to DL) | -mirror (GoogleDocs)-
Spreads Version | -mirror #1- | -mirror #2 (GoogleDocs)-
Live topic via MBM Forums: http://www.modernblmag.net/forum/showthr...p?tid=1021
Magazine Layout/Art Direction: Audric
MBM Cover Design: 420Guy
Cover photo provided by the members of Boymoment.com, and chosen by members of MBM
Organizers: 420Guy & TheTurtleBoy
Co-Organizers: Crake, Riku & Seth Morgan (with assistance from Sawadee Krab)
Chief Editor: Riku (with assistance from 420Guy & AlphaBoy)
Editors: ddavey & TheTurtleBoy
Copy Editors: edward bear, Audric
Original Concept: SimbaLion
11-13-2011, 02:57 PM (This post was last modified: 12-11-2011 02:29 AM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
This 5th Anniversary Special Edition features a different front cover for each website that contributed. Below are our 4 covers for issue 11.
BoyMoment.com - TheTurtleBoy
Boylover.org - spankee
YoungCity.org - Ansset
MBM - 420Guy
11-13-2011, 03:01 PM (This post was last modified: 11-24-2011 01:01 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
-----Title: Logo Contest Results
Forum: Community effort
As promised, here are the final round results from our new logo contest! The winner appears on this issue of the magazine! Also, make sure to check out all the logos entered, to find our who these great artists are!
Here are the 4 logos that made it to the final round;
Artist: Wild Max
The Results (from BLo, BM & YC);
Special thanks and Congratulations to Ansset, for creating such a great new logo!
Below are the other logos entered, including the artists' name and forum.
11-13-2011, 03:02 PM (This post was last modified: 11-21-2011 03:35 AM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category: Features and Profiles
Title: A Lover and a Fighter: Interview with Crake
Author: 420Guy and Crake
This interview with Crake took place in February 2011. Since joining the community in 2004, he has been involved in various childlove projects and been an active member of various boards. He is currently the MBM Forum Representative for Youngcity.org, and writes a Childlove blog at http://www.theinnocencegame.blogspot.com .
420Guy: When did you first join the community, and what were your first impressions?
Crake: I joined up in July of 2004, that was to BLU (Boylovers United), but I’d been lurking since November of ’03. I had a fascination with children and the struggles that boys put up with these days and I did a lot of reading about boys and the so-called “war against them.” As it turns out, if you do enough reading about boys you’ll run into the BL communities eventually, which is what happened to me. My first impression of boylover.net was that it was a group for parents of boys—parents who just loved having boys. The BL side of myself had never clicked until I came across Mike’s Page over in the BL Links. I did a little more investigation and found out BL was pedophilia, not sick pedophilia, but a “wholesome” version of it, and it just captivated my imagination from then on; I never thought that something like this could exist.
420Guy: Did you find that you settled in quickly, or did it take some time?
Crake: I think I’ve only recently settled in. The first five or so years had me butting heads with the community because I had different reasons for coming in. Support wasn’t exactly what I wanted, I wanted to make a difference. Once I learned about Boylove, I immediately felt comfortable with it. My desires from there on out, for better or worse, were more about how to get this subculture more mainstream toleration. I felt it had value beyond just being a support community. Others disagreed, many vehemently so. It was their right. I was still young, an emerging adult just discovering his powers, so it crushed me when I ran into fierce opposition. Years and years of unfulfilment lessened my ambitions, I went through depression cycles, but I began to see how people preferred the real me to the fighter-me. The real me can get done what the fighter couldn’t.
420Guy: In your opinion, what does it mean to be a Boylover?
Crake: Boylovers, or Childlovers in general, are people who practice or at least believe in an independent and charitable approach to child-rearing. A childlover stands parallel to mainstream western cultural practices in child guidance. They tend to be opposed to child subjection, control, abuse, and over-protectionism, and stress being responsible for a child over simply having responsibility, good works over legislation, and the pretext of “do no harm”. This is to say, that childovers are carrying on the ancient practice of pederasty but fitting it into the modern world. They run into conflict with some of the main tenets of culture (political correctness, the nanny state…etc.), and because of that ridicule, feel they are better able to relate to children—entities also put upon by society. Ultimately, a childlover is someone who dares to love a child as a whole person. He is a man of the past, living in the present, and walking in the future.
420Guy: Tell us about your attractions. Are you strictly into boys? Do girls or adults ever make you do a double-take?
Crake: Yeah I’m a BL, mostly. I have always had GL sides, though. Adults do nothing for me. I find I’m much pickier when it comes to girls and that my age of attraction is slimmer. Tomboys usually get me—I appreciate a girl who can out-boy a boy. I tend to be more of a fetishist though, which makes me different than most BLs who are all about sex. I don’t desire sex with children, mainly because I consider myself an LBL or at least a “boy” BL (aoa 5-14), and because I don’t have the personality most people have to engage in sexual activity with another human being. Besides, I seem to get along with my fetishes, and they tide me over.
420Guy: What were you like as a boy?
Crake: I was creative, expressive, a bit awkward, comical, but also had a vulnerable side. I enjoyed school and did well in it, and just like now, usually failed to appreciate my own strengths. I envied everyone and never noticed how others may be envying my talents. I liked to draw and write, and pretend my life was a movie. I wanted to be popular and fit in, but I was too sheltered to really be "cool." I ended up hanging out with the weirder boys. I was quite smart, conversational, enjoyed educational things as well as fun things. I tended to take it personally when people didn't like me or didn't want to play along with my games, high hopes, or the movies in my head.
420Guy: How did you discover that you were attracted to minors?
Crake: It’s something that never clicked. I never really thought about my sexuality before I discovered I was a pedophile. When I was a teen, I had withdrawn into myself so far I never really sought to acknowledge any part of me that made me similar to others, so I never acknowledged that I had a specific sexuality. But if I remember my thinking from back then, kids were always a part of it. They were sexy, but I didn’t really distinguish that sexiness from just ordinary human attraction. I discovered I may be a pedophile when I came across the BL world and read about it. My first inclination was, “No, this isn’t me,” but then it instantly clicked and it made perfect sense.
* * * * * * *
420Guy: You are known for being a child-love activist. Was there a particular situation or event that led to you to becoming an activist?
Crake: There are many BLs who’ve done more gutsier activism than I have. I’ve been more of a spokesperson for it I guess, although I have been involved with a number of projects. I can’t say there was one event that caused me to get into it. I was just fueled by a burning desire throughout my teen years to fight for something meaningful. I guess I just wanted more than my rather book-heavy, suburban, tedious life could give me. I’ll say right out that yeah, my desire to “make a difference” was primarily selfish. It had more to do with “Crake-peace” than world peace, which is fine if you think about it, but it didn’t lead to either outcome.
I ran into more opposition from within the community than without, and did some rather daring things like stuff mailboxes with BL fliers on IBL day, go on as a guest on Pedologues, contribute to the very controversial and visible Paiderastia blog that saw us in a blog war with vigilante groups like Absolute Zero and all the rest. I’ve had quite a few close calls, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat—this time hopefully wiser.
420Guy: A majority of people (including BLs) assume that activism is merely about lowering the age of consent. Do you feel that's a fair statement, or is there more to it?
Crake: There’s far more. Arguing to lower the age of consent as a pedophile is a fool’s errand. In the US alone, there are 50 different laws regarding the age of consent. Besides, lowering the age of consent by itself does nothing to change the culture, the legal, bureaucratic, economic, and political subjugation of children. Some pedophiles believe that the issue of youth rights doesn’t apply to them, and that those campaigns are a detriment to our cause. I don’t think so. There are groups who are advocating for many of the ideas we espouse, including lowering the age of consent, and they have perfectly reasonable and evidenced arguments. The NYRA (National Youth Rights Association) is one. There are also people we could be aligning with as individuals, like Lenore Skenazy, John C. Holt, Robert Epstein, and other academics and commentators. We can only hope to move society if we join with it, rather than isolate ourselves from it. We have to learn to see the good in people. It’s not about children or pedophiles, it’s about working together for a common good.
420Guy: Many of the BL sites take a neutral stance on activism, do you think that the forums should be more involved?
Crake: I’ve always said that forums should remain neutral. My argument was that simply providing space for members to strategize does not mean the board is agreeing or disagreeing with whatever project they want to cook up amongst themselves. And I’ve never liked how some boards will swoop down and post disclaimers all over your thread if you breech the subject. I think it detracts from meaningful conversation. There was a time when BLs would tolerate molestation jokes but panic if a BL said “activism” too many times, but things are changing. Board owners are becoming more tolerant of activist speech, especially after BL.net (a very anti-activist board) went down. The arrival of Newgon really changed things for me, because now there’s a place where ambitious BLs can actually gather to at least discuss getting things done—whether they do is another story. I don’t think forums should be more involved, I think BLs should be more involved.
420Guy: What are some ways in which BLs could get more involved?
Crake: Breaking out of the cycle of pessimism is the first important step. Once that's accomplished, one begins to look for ways that a message can be spread, how to get others to take it seriously, and what that message should be. All these things are interrelated. We have to make use of social media to get messages out there about the over-protection of kids, youth rights, predator panic, and all these crucial issues, and push them in our private spheres of influence (which are growing larger every day with the help of these social media) not as pedophiles, but as people speaking truth to the hypocrisy.
I urge members of my generation (millenials) to really jump on the bandwagon that Anonymous has established, and use it, as others have done, to educate people about the hypocrisies of the system. What was done to Scientology in Project Chanology, for instance, could be replicated. In short, blog, tweet, create Facebook groups, make videos on youtube, create connections with proponents of youth rights and anti-fear, spread the word through reserved compromise and genuine education, not as pedophiles, but as people. It's a brave new world and it calls for new approaches and new thinking to old problems, and everyone's invited.
The days of "we're here and queer" are over, and time is ticking down on the current "secret support enclave" approach that began in the 90's. That serves a purpose, but this is a new internet and we have new options available to us. We each need to think about what we can bring. I blog, that just works for me. There are numerous things that may work for you and everyone else.
420Guy: You had the privilege of being a guest on an episode of the Pedologues. Why did you want to participate, and what was it like working with Rookiee?
Crake: This is a funny story. Rookiee had a charisma that I can only hope the BL world will see again, and this was very typical of him. For those who don't know, Rookiee was probably one of the greatest spokesmen for Childlove we've had since Lindsay Ashford or Edward Brongersma, and he ran a successful podcast as a split off solo project from his work with SQR. On it, he'd invite boylovers to come in and discuss various issues in a very relaxed setting, and it was very professionally done, funny, enlightening, and really drove home the message of free speech. One night I was chatting with him, working on our various blog projects, and he invites me to a Skype call, as he normally would. It turns out that I was now on air. He had another guest on who was a great orator, Ohhellyeah, and between the two of these great charismas, I could barely get a word in edgewise, and if you seek out this episode, you'll hear it. I loved working with Rookiee and jumped on board with everything he was putting forth, unfortunately he got hit pretty hard by PJ, and then later our relationship soured due to a lapse in judgement on my part.
* * * * * * *
420Guy: Do you think children should have the right to consent to sex with other children? With adults?
Crake: I think children should have a right to explore their sexuality in ways that are compatible with their understanding of what sexuality is. I think they ought to be educated about human sexuality from the very beginning, just like they are about their other bodily functions. I don’t know if children should necessarily have the right to have sex with others because I don’t see “having sex with someone” a right, because, it’s an act that incorporates others’ rights. However, I think children ought to be protected against criminality for exploring their sexuality in pro-social ways, and if that includes consensual sex with another child, then so be it. Rape, or even sex as peer pressure, should not be confused with sexual exploration.
With adults, no. I believe adults practice a very different sexuality than children and or even teens do. An adult can guide, educate, instruct, and reinforce a healthy expression of sexuality, but the child really needs to be in control of their own sexual exploration. There’s some part of me that feels that when a child and an adult have sex, the child is handing the reins over to the adult once again, submitting to an adult’s idea of what sex is. Sex is many different things for many different people, and age plays a role in how it’s interpreted. Of course, as children become teens and young adults and start gaining more of an adult perspective on sex, then yes, consensual activity ought to be protected.
420Guy: If we interfere in a child's sexual development, even if he chooses to explore these things with an adult, aren't we essentially taking control or 'handing the reins back to the adults'?
Crake: If I understand correctly, you're saying that it'd be interfering with a child's development to deny their request to have sex with an adult at their choice. I agree that children may have desires to have sex with adults, and that in a perfect world, consensual sex with minors is more preferable than non-consensual sex. The problem is that one can't make the case that consensual sex with kids is preferable to having no sex with a child, even in a perfect world. This is not a perfect world, and having sex with children carries a risk that not having sex with them doesn't, but even if that wasn't so, children have no developmental need to have sex with adults in order to grow up properly. Children grow up to be sexually healthy adults without having had sex with an adult as a child just as some do with consensual relations. So there really can be no argument in favor of sex with adults in childhood on the basis that it helps them along. It may help individual kids in certain circumstances, but it can't be the prescription for a child who has been hitting sexual road blocks. As evidence suggests, alternative and less risky means for educating a child can always be employed. To accept sex with a child is to be assuming responsibility for their sexual path, but to deny is to say "it's your sexuality, I can help, but I can't do it for you."
420Guy: Could there be exceptions to this? What about a child who is several years more mature than most in his age group? How about a man who has a very childlike perception himself, similar to the late Michael Jackson?
Crake: I've heard a million variations on this theme. I absolutely think there can be exceptions, particularly for teenagers who are basically adult in the way they understand sex. I totally disagree with the notions that teens are sex obsessed, impetuous and promiscuous by nature--these are adult interpretations of a teen's systematic sexual repression. There can always be exceptions, for any age group. I'm just not willing to go out on a limb and defend adults having sex with children as the way forward for civilization because I have no reason to believe that such a future would be ideal. I believe that sex is just sex. It's not inherently bad, it's not inherently good, but it can be both of those things under specific circumstances.
420Guy: You and the boy of your dreams are the last surviving humans on Earth. One night he undresses, looks at you and simply asks, "Top or bottom?"
Crake: There's always got to be a just for fun one. It's hard for me to speculate about a boy, but I know that in regular (adult) encounters, I'm definitely a bottom. Take note, my suitors.
11-13-2011, 03:04 PM (This post was last modified: 11-21-2011 03:36 AM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category: Boy Moments
Title: Awaking my SYF
Today I had one of the many pleasures of waking my SYF. Granted he's rather young, there was somewhat more of a beautiful innocence to seeing him awaken to another day.
I walked into his room; he was curled onto his right side, his short brown hair clinging to his head, his eyelids clasped over his light brown eyes. A slight smile on his beautiful, smooth face, which seemed so angelic.
He was wearing his favorite Elmo pajamas which consisted of a very soft, velvety long sleeved shirt and matching long pants, with different Elmo characters scattered across them.
He had kicked off his covers, I guess in the warming of the day. I just had to stop and admire his little slender, perfectly-shaped feet.
I walked in and sat on the bed to his right; putting my hand on his back I leaned over him, gently massaging the middle of his back . As quietly and soothingly as possible, I whispered, "time to get up sleepy head", and it seemed as though the instant he heard my voice his eyes burst open. Like the little lightning he is, full of energy, he lunged into me, causing me to fall back and off the bed.
Able to keep my composure, I braced both of us for the fall as he clung to the front of me, with his legs already wrapped around my waist. I gave in and just laid back on the floor, and he put his head right between my shoulder and neck, wrapped his arms around my neck, and as sweetly as I think any boy could, whispered "good morning, Daddy" into my ear. While I loved it so much, feeling like I was in heaven, I had to remind him about calling me Daddy; in reply to which, keeping his wits about him, he also reminded me that I said he could, if we were alone.
We laid there for a bit, until he put his forearms on my chest, holding his little body above mine, and gazed right into my eyes, as if our souls needed to greet each other as well, until he finally said, "so, what are we gonna do today?"
And so, the day was off.
11-13-2011, 04:43 PM (This post was last modified: 11-24-2011 01:02 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category: Boylover Reflections
Title: A Boylover Saved Me
When I was a boy, I loved a man, and he loved me. Those who think I was abused are mistaken; for me it was the most loving caring relationship I ever had.
When I feared a friend would tell everyone I was gay, and I was minutes away from deciding on suicide options, a family friend was there. My mother, sensing something was wrong when I would not tell her what was going on, sent someone to me who in turn became my savior. With some pressing I broke down in tears, spilling my heart out – it didn’t matter much as I was going to end it soon anyway. The talk was long, emotional, and scary, but in the end he confessed to me that he too had feelings for guys . I remember asking what I could do to change who I was, and I found out that you can’t change who you are as easily as you can change your clothes.
Our relationship blossomed and grew month by month. Larry became so important to me that I strived to make him proud. I went from an average student to an above average one – no not a “Straight A Honor Roll” kid but I kept a good average. I was also a bully in school, and being taller and stronger allowed me to take out frustrations on others. Larry found out and told me that I needed to go on home and think about who I wanted to be, and as far as he was concerned a bully was no friend of his. That almost killed me – I had come out of a funk a, but had disappointed someone I really cared for. I changed my ways, and my bully side morphed into one of a protector. I did not tolerate kids being bullied, and focused my size on the other bullies. After some time I found myself with a ring of smaller but interesting boys who all wanted to be my friend. I tried pot and some alcohol, but one look from Larry when he found out ended that on the spot. I would not disappoint him ever again.
Our relationship became sexual and I treasured those feelings and moments, but this is about an emotional relationship and those times together were our moments. I learned that love comes in all forms and types, and nothing will ever fit into a single mold. We had disagreements and we had issues – we were both on constant guard every moment in public not to betray a feeling, a touch, or comment that would out us as lovers. That stress was hard to take and Larry also pushed me to be with my friends. He insisted I spend time with kids my own age and even wanted me to find someone I could share with. That hurt as I loved him and all he wanted for me was to be happy. To him, my being with people my own age was necessary for me to grow and mature properly. He finally got me to understand that he wasn’t pushing me away but wanted me to become my own person.
Larry lost a battle with pancreatic cancer quickly after diagnosis. His death almost drove me back to suicide, but I would not tarnish his memory by throwing my life away. Our relationship lasted for almost four years, and those years I still treasure to this day, almost thirty years later.
I recovered and moved on. I have accepted who I have become and even if at times am lonely I have my memories. Strangely, as attracted to Larry as I was, after he was gone my interest started sliding to a younger age. I have never shared in a physical relationship with a boy, and live those out through fantasy alone. I am adored by many of my nephews and young cousins, along with the sons of friends and co-workers. I am often told how good I am with kids, and that I would make a fantastic father. They say I connect with children better than anyone they know, and I just laugh it off and say it's because I never grew up myself. In truth it is because Larry let me be me, and I see each and every boy I interact with as an individual needing love, support, and a friend. Treating them as such I get 100 percent back, as they see me as someone they can trust and relate to, and even share their own secrets and know that they are safe.
Thanks Larry, your gift of understanding and love is more precious than anything I can think of.
You are what you do; and if you dont, than you ain't
11-13-2011, 04:44 PM (This post was last modified: 11-24-2011 01:02 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category : Creative Work
Title : "I Wish I Coulda..."
Author : Damelon
Forum : BoyMoment
I have met an amazing young friend on BoyMoment. He has come to mean so much to me. We have spent hours and hours talking and getting to know each other. We have so much in common that sometimes I feel like he IS my inner child!
So, during an exchange of posts awhile back, he made a comment...
“... I'm sorry that it was such a bad time for you and I wish that I could have been in your life from the beginning.“
That comment rolled around in my head for several days and this poem came from it...
I know that there must be so many of you out there that feel the same way about someone in your life.
I hope this helps you express to that special someone, how you feel...
I Wish I Coulda…
When you were born,
And the world became a better place.
I wish I coulda been there.
When you spoke your first word,
And the world made more sense.
I wish I coulda been there.
When you took your first step,
And the world went in a new direction.
I wish I coulda been there.
On your first day of school,
When the world learned something new.
I wish I coulda been there.
Whenever the world treated you badly,
And you were lonely…
Whenever you were afraid,
And you doubted who you were….
Whenever the nights were long,
And you needed someone to hold you…
I Wish With All My Heart,
I could have been there!
11-13-2011, 04:45 PM (This post was last modified: 11-21-2011 04:09 AM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category: Adults and Boys Together
Title: He was my Heart-Lung Machine
I have debated whether this should be an epitaph, or the description of an adult/young friend relationship. The truth is I don't intend to celebrate my adult friend's greatness. He was a major influence, although we didn't see each other much. He was there when I needed, which, I believe, should be the definition of “adult friend.”
When I first met him I was seven, my brother nine. My parents and I went to my brother's Scout camp, where family activities were planned. I didn't mix much, being shy, and frankly would have rather been home. I was thus walking on one of the dirt roads surrounding the camp when I saw that tall man sitting on a tree trunk, sculpting a wooden knife from a dead branch.
I instinctively stopped and stared at him inquisitively, at his badge covered shirt, his graying hair, and his brown eyes staring back at me, until he called me over by name. He walked me back to the group, and only when my brother left the crowd, shouting, did I learn his “name”: Akela. That first denomination, although I discovered his real name later, proved most significant to me, so I will refer to him as such while we sift through two episodes of my life which he was part of.
Two years after we met, I was in his Scouts troop. He lived near my school, about one hundred metres beyond a sharp turn from which I could see both my school and his truck. I should tell you that he was a federal agent, near his retirement (54 years old) and an electrician (which explains the truck). At that age, I was bullied at school. I used to stay on the playground for two hours, or until my bullies went home, before I left after school. There was always an adult around, so it was my safe spot. My parents, who returned from work at 6pm, didn't notice the delay between the end of class (3pm) and my arrival (5pm). However Akela noticed, and also noted that I walked home fast, looking frenetically over my shoulders, and that I always had bruises on my arms. He knew that my father wouldn’t have beaten me, so, adding two and two, he came to accompany me home the following day. Next day, however, I didn’t see him, and was reduced, again, to waiting for my intimidators to be called home by their moms.
On the third day, finally, a few minutes before the bell, while I watched the clock, anxiously, I saw his familiar face in the classroom door’s window, I was now anxious for totally different reasons. The bell rang and, going outside, I came face to face not only with him but also with two of his friends, all three wearing federal agent uniform. Naturally they got a lot of attention from the other children, including my bullies. Apparently, they just dropped by “because Akela wanted to say: ‘Hi.’” Two complementary feelings were hitting me at once. Firstly, I was happy to see Akela – he was my shining knight then, especially since I’d only seen him in Scout uniform; secondly, I felt extremely special. Police officers are very impressive for nine-year-olds, so those three men – and myself – were the only discussion subject that week. The bullying stopped. Walking home, every afternoon afterward, I'd check excitedly if Akela was there so I could cast him a wide smile.
The last part of our relationship occurred in 2005. I was having a bad time both because of my homosexuality and my social awkwardness. That year, I was hospitalized in the pediatric wing for about a week. I hadn’t seen Akela for five years. One night, sitting in bed, a nurse watching over me (I wasn’t allowed to be alone), I thought I heard his voice at the end of the hallway. I learned later, that my brother had tracked him down and asked him to come. Akela entered my room. No-one spoke for about an hour. In fact we didn’t even look at each other: I felt ashamed; he wanted me to jump in first. My first words startled him: “I’m sorry”, I don’t know why those words came out. I did feel sorry: for not contacting him; for almost forgetting about him; for being gay… I considered myself a failure. A failure with a brain and good grades, but a failure nonetheless.
I expected the classical talk I'd often had before: people who pick on you aren’t worth it; you’ll see, in the long run… But he merely interrogated me: “Do you know the difference between right or wrong? Are you still the kid who would ask everyone questions to learn a little more?” and so on. Then he gave me this unusual speech: “I don’t care who you love (it was physically obvious that I was gay). The kid I knew was a force of nature; he’d be ready both to help a kid with his homework and fight when he knew he was right. That kid would have fought tooth and nail to get the place he deserved. I’d still want you to be that kid, for nothing would prevent him helping another, and he didn’t care what people thought, as long as he did his best.” Those three hours were among the most difficult of my life. It’s hard to be ashamed in front of someone you idolize and painful when that someone makes you realize you’re half of who you were. Yet they woke me up.
After I finished crying he left, and I never saw him again. The last time I talked to him was in the fall of 2010. I was a second year medical student. His wife, who also knew my father, called me to ask what was the best treatment for someone with pulmonary fibrosis. Unable to answer, I took the file and begged all of my pulmonology teachers to read it*. A few days later he was on the transplant list but, despite having almost every possible competent doctor as a consultant, he died less than an hour before receiving a call telling him they found a match.
At his burial I saw a throng of young adults, from five to ten years older than me, wearing Scouts’ scarves. So for that adult friend who was there to teach me, to help me and to make me the man I am, and who did so for many others, I have one last thing to say; “Good hunting!”
* As Rudyard Kipling would phrase it: “Save Akela from the death. He was ever thy friend.”
11-13-2011, 04:45 PM (This post was last modified: 11-24-2011 01:03 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category: Features and Profiles
Title: Pedophilia's Changing Definition
Psychologically speaking, are you a pedophile if you're attracted to boys of 14, but not to boys of 8? And are you a pedophile if you think of boys while masturbating, but have never had sex with a boy?
Sex researchers and mental health professionals are asking questions like these while trying to define what pedophilia is for the next edition of the "Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders" (or DSM). The DSM is published by the American Psychiatric Association, and is the standard reference book for mental health professionals looking to diagnose specific symptoms and behaviors. The current edition is the DSM-IV-TR; the next edition, DSM-V, is scheduled for release in 2013.
The DSM is a book with a lot of power. Its classifications allow people to be defined in certain ways, and these definitions can carry the force of law. If a psychiatrist classifies a person as a pedophile based on DSM criteria, this classification can be used in court. Over the years, the DSM has changed its mind about certain things. Homosexuality, for example, was once classified as a mental disorder but no longer is. Will there ever come a day when sexual attraction to children is no longer classified as a disorder?
Perhaps, but not by the time the DSM-V is released. What is sure to happen, however, is a change in how pedophilia is defined.
One person involved with the review of the DSM's pedophilia definition is Canadian sex researcher Ray Blanchard. Blanchard is a well-known and sometimes controversial figure in the field of sex studies. He is known for developing the term "teleiophilia" to describe sexual attraction to adults, especially where the attraction is characterized by a great distance of years (for instance: a person in his twenties attracted to people in their fifties, and vice versa). In recent years, he has sought to change how pedophilia is diagnosed. In part, this work has been done to influence how the DSM-V will classify pedophilia.
In one 2009 report, Blanchard and his collaborators presented five different ways to classify sexual attraction to minors. These were spun off from a three-part sexual division that many are familiar with: pedophile (interest in prepubescent children), hebephile (interest in pubescent children), and ephebophile (interest in young adults). Given how most people think that all attraction to minors is pedophilia, even embracing the difference between pedophilia, hebephilia, and ephebophilia would be an interesting step.
These were the categories that Blanchard and his collaborators came up with in their 2009 report: Pedophile 1 (where attraction to children aged 0-5 is greater than or equal to attraction to older age groups); Pedophile 2 (where attraction to children aged 6-10 is greater than or equal to attraction to older age groups); Hebephile 1 (age 11); Hebephile 2 (ages 12-14); and Ephebophile (ages 15-16). The age breakdowns just listed describe adult attraction to girls. Because girls develop earlier than boys, and because there were more men attracted to girls in the study than men attracted to boys, the information for the latter group wasn't as developed. However, the report concludes that the division for men attracted to boys is similar even if the years described don't fully overlap.
In a 2008 paper, Blanchard proposed that the DSM-V included these new "diagnostic criteria for Pedohebephilic Disorder." If these criteria are adopted, anyone who meets all three would be legally diagnosable as a pedophile.
A. The person is equally or more attracted sexually to children under the age of 15 than to physically mature adults, as indicated by self-report, laboratory testing, or behavior.
B. The person is distressed or impaired by these attractions, or the person has sought sexual stimulation from children under 15 on three or more separate occasions.
C. The person is at least 16 years and at least 5 years older than the child or children in Criterion A.
Sexually Attracted to Children Younger than 11 (Pedophilic Type)
Sexually Attracted to Children age 11-14 (Hebephilic Type)
Sexually Attracted to Both (Pedohebephilic Type)
One controversy that developed was the proposal's classification of attraction to minors as a "disorder." If a person meets Criterion A (attraction), but not Criterion B (acting upon those attractions, or feeling distressed about them), he may escape full legal diagnosis as a pedophile (which requires meeting all three criteria); however, he might still be thought to possess a pedophilic mental condition which might later be acted upon. It should be noted that Blanchard argues that "sexual stimulation" does not just mean sex with children; it can include interactions with virtual children: "I recommend that, for diagnostic purposes, photographed children [child pornography] and impersonated children [for example, police officers posing as children who engage with others in online sex talk] be treated the same as real children."
Others in the field take a different perspective. Richard Green, another sex researcher, had this to say in a 2004 paper: "So what then of the pedophile who does not act on the fantasies or urges with a child? Where does the DSM leave us? In Wonderland. If a person does not act on the fantasies or urges of pedophilia, he is not a pedophile. A person not distressed over the urges or fantasies and who just repeatedly masturbates to them has no disorder."
However it turns out, the DSM-V definition of pedophilia will be different from what exists now. It's hard to say, however, if this change will be beneficial to those who are attracted to children.
11-13-2011, 04:46 PM (This post was last modified: 11-24-2011 01:04 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
-----Category : Creative Work
Title : Core Of The Future.
Author : Seth Morgan
Forum : BoyMoment
It's our duty as BoyLovers to give our boys the best start toward an understanding of life. This poem is about choosing what is best for us to pass down to our boys that are in our lives. For me, it's all about being aware of my actions and words and how they are perceived. I only want the best for the boys in my life. I love them all so dearly. I want to give them the best start in life that I can. Most of you know by now that my boys and sons mean the world to me. I could never do to them what was done to me. I will always answer ANY question they have with honesty, compassion and empathy. Their future means more to me than my own. I just want to give them the best start in life that they can have. Again. this poem is for all my boys.
Core Of The Future
They Absorb up the surroundings like
the desert does water.
With every emotion felt and unexplained action perceived,
their innocent minds are altered.
The surrounding terrain,
and unspoken words all permeate their brains.
How will they interpret these crucial perceptions?
Only the core of the future beholds the answers to these questions.
Each innocent mind is born with a clean slate.
their values are up to us to create.
What we learned is instilled into our core.
We pass its contents to the future of our world.
It's what we we teach
and how we nurture
that directly affects
The Core Of Their Future
11-13-2011, 04:49 PM (This post was last modified: 11-24-2011 01:04 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category : Features and Profiles
Title : Boylove, a Journey through Time
Author : Jeroen van Bergen
Forum : BoyMoment.com
It has now been 35 years since I first realized that I wasn’t a homosexual boy.
Which was what I first thought: I was 14 years young at the time.
“Whatever, I’m attracted to little boys” is what I thought because the boys I fell in love with stayed 11, 12, 13 and I kept getting older; Apparently that happens when you don’t forget to breathe.
So at the age of 15 I knew who I was, sexually at least.
One day I did forget to breathe: I was 16 at the time in 1976, in that year my voice broke too. That in 5 years my heart would break too, I hadn’t seen coming.
I was fishing at the lake close by my house in the spring sun.
My first true love would show himself to me there.
He was almost 11 years old, tall, slim, and dark blond. The bleached skinny jeans were very slim fitted, like a second layer of skin. That was the first thing I noticed, how appropriate, at crotch height, when I looked around after his question “Hi there, sir, did you catch anything yet?”
At that moment I forgot to breathe, at the sight of so much perfection in a boys body…
“-Yes, you I hope” I answered when I could breathe again.
- the answer just came out of my mouth without me thinking about it, I was shocked that I said that.
The beautiful boy apparently wasn’t shocked because he answered smartly: “Your fishing rod would break if you did that… I weigh 40 kilos you know”
“- By the way my name is Edwin, what’s yours Sir?”
“- You don’t have to say sir… my name is Jeroen!”
He sat down next to me on the grass and glanced up at me with a satisfied look on his face.
Good god, how beautiful he was! I was so mesmerized I didn’t see that my float got pulled under water…
That moment meant the beginning of a journey through a world of unforgettable Boylove.
For almost 5 years I had a full relationship -with the parents knowing- with this sweet boy Edwin and his parents even encouraged our relationship and friendship. Since Edwin enjoyed it very much and his grades in school went through the roof!
A boylove trip like this was something you could start in those days… But that this could end so horribly abruptly I would have never expected.
Or should I say feared…
I walked through Amsterdam, looking for exciting, one might say “dirty” magazines.
I also wanted to learn more about "pedophilia” , because that seemed to be the official definition… Of course I had bought magazines with pictures of nude children for several years, in my case mostly boys. But apparently a huge range available, so mustn't that mean there were a lot more people like me?
Next to the ['Playboy' and 'Penthouse', laid, just like there are computer games and internet magazines laying there now, in our days some naturist magazines. “Kinder der Sonne” , “Sunny Kids”, “Happy Family” and so on.
I’m talking about the normal bookstore!! Two shelves higher, out of sight of the regular magazines, were the gay-magazines, back to back. It wouldn’t be right to hurt those fragile children’s souls! Mags with nude kids ok, but no gays, oh no….!
When I had gathered the usual amount of clothes-less and naturally tanned naturist children’s bodies ( “Would you like a bag sir? – “No that’s ok, I’ll take them with me like this” ) I went to the Wallen (the red light district of Amsterdam) because there, I knew, they had the largest concentration of sex-shops and the largest amount of fresh child pornography (and where the show windows, which now display fully dressed fashion dolls, were then filled with nudes).
Soon I had found my regular bright lit sex-shop to see if there were any new offers of the week.
I found three “Bambinos” for the price of two, for example.
It was called: “Unique sex pack, dfl. 7,95“ (about € 3,50!)
- And it didn't make people frown that those magazines contained tens of pictures with hardcore pornography of boys and girls 10-14 years old, who with happy faces did things with each other that would not be done even in the adult marriage bed (“Shouldn’t be a problem”, that’s what it was called! And it wasn’t a problem)
Then I noticed the child pornography movies, Super 8, as it was then called… Those vids had a length of almost 10 minutes and you needed a rattling movie projector to play them.
- That was way before the VHS videotape, before the home PC with those handy diskettes (which you could put 10 pictures on!) , and before the zip drive, the CD rom, -700 Mb, the DVD and the 2 terabyte external disk drives you have now which you can put a couple of MILLIONS of images of cute naked little boys on. Only one minor detail: you cannot have a million of “naked kids images” anymore, now, in 2011. And definitely no sex vids…!
At that time in The Netherlands you could legally buy thousands of pictures and hundreds of videos with child pornography but you didn´t have a way to organize them well. And eventually, they didn’t fit under your bed! And now, when you finally have the possibility to save everything in a plastic box not bigger then a pocketbook...you can’t have it anymore…oh, bitter irony!
Back in the time machine!
I was still standing in the store, one of many at the time with this assortment by the way.
“Let’s have a look, what titles are there this time in the rack with child sex movies.
Hmm.. “Boylove for two”, “The Chicken Farm”, “Sexy teen boys”, “Fucking kids…”
Already have those! too bad…
Then my eye fell on a magazine that would mean an alteration in my life…
“NIKS” which means “Towards the Integration of Child Sexuality”. They were slightly older issues. The magazine would be followed up by the OK-Magazine from the Dutch association Martijn, one of the associations then active in many countries, run for and by Pedophiles.
In Germany for example they had “Krumme 13”, in Belgium “Stiekum”, and in the USA (of all places..) “NAMBLA”, at the time very much alive with many active members. At that time yes..
Several years later, through the magazine NIKS, I became a member of the pedophilia work group of the NVSH. In my case this was specifically the Rotterdam department – during the 1980s and 1990s several big cities had their own departments under the umbrella of the national NVSH. Those open evenings were always very busy, and finally, in my early twenties, I got to know fellow pedophiles. The word pedophile absolutely wasn’t a curse at that time by the way and people weren’t afraid to regard to themselves as such, however such things were a personal choice.
But for a minister, or a husband of a queen it wasn’t a good idea…!
On Friday night I returned from my monthly day of pedo-technical shopping in Amsterdam.
It was now 5 years later from the moment, I had first met my big love, Edwin.
He would stay over for the weekend tomorrow (… and not only sleeping) because his parents were away for the weekend and Edwin didn’t want to go (and neither did he have to).
He had grown older and wiser of course, but most of all very sweet. In the years that had passed he had at least discovered that he was bisexual. I loved him. I loved him so much! His age no longer mattered in our relationship so much as the length of time we had been together.
And then there was that one Sunday at the end of a wonderful weekend, that one horrible Sunday, at the end of September 1981.
The policemen that rang at my door looked bleak when I opened the door.
“Are you Jeroen van Bergen?” As if to make sure he wasn’t talking to my father Jan, the other J. van Bergen on this address…
Of course I answered yes, but I noticed I had a dry throat, and was breathless, just like that time at the fishing lake…
I immediately thought: “Luckily Edwin is outside, riding his bicycle”, in a second I knew that whatever this enforcer of the law had to ask or say my dear little friend wouldn´t have to be scared.
Because he wasn´t in.
He would never be in again.
“Do you know someone, a young boy about 15 years old, who had a picture with your name on the back, drawn in a pink heart, in his blue jacket, or so to speak had?”
That one second that the man said the word “had” meant a period of seven horrible years of my life.
“Uhm.. Mr. Bergen, do you understand my question?” I awoke from my momentary shock.
“Eh, yes of course, that is for sure Edwin Sisterman, my friend.”
The police man lightened up a little, cleared his throat again and said the sentence I will never ever forget:
“Then you probably could identify him for us? I’m sorry. Unfortunately he was involved in a deadly accident..!”
Vaguely I heard the next sentences:
“He didn’t have any document with his identity on him and we found this picture with your name next to a fresh bunch of flowers, apparently it fell out of his jacket.”
On his request I followed him outside in a state much like inebriety, to the crossroad close to my home. Edwin appeared to have been hit by a truck which had driven through the red light.
The disaster tourists had gathered themselves in great numbers but they made way for the officers and me.
There he lay, the bunch of flowers he apparently had bought for my mother, lay unaffected, strangely enough, next to him.
The card said: “For the most loving woman and mother except for mine; who has given me Jeroen!”
I confirmed, after looking at the remaining half of his face that it was Edwin, the love of my life. The hours after that I hardly remember.
Six hours later I had to tell the parents the horrible news when they came home from their trip; mobile phones were something that had never yet been heard of.
Six days later he was buried. At the ceremony I had to sit next his parents, as the most important guest besides them.
The words I was able to speak –his parents couldn’t do it- will stay for always and ever for me and some loved ones.
Out of the speakers of the Crematorium came our favorite song: “If”, by Bread.
-Now, 30 years later I still can’t hear the lyrics without tears welling up in my eyes…
“…And if, my love, the world would stop revolving, spinnin’ slowly down to die, then you and I… would slowly fly away…”
Another 30 years or so, Edwin, then I’ll fly to you !
The years after that most tragic event in my life up till now, I studied and worked, almost constantly. It was the time of the so called “yuppies” and I was an apparent exponent of this subculture, earned a lot of money, lived a materialistic life but in my mind I lived rather nihilistic.
Designer brand clothing and the right Maserati, and trying to assume that chic title in 1988 were of course to no avail to fill my heart and life since 1981. Since then, in all respects I had had a loveless life.
Then also one of my pedophile friends was arrested, one of many in the years to come, and condemned to an effective prison sentence of three months, because, so it seemed, he had a full sexual relationship with a boy who was fifteen then, for four years.
The then very powerful lobby of feminists had snitched him to the cops.
I should've seen then that the aleration in a pedophile existence was by now irreversible, the change beginning with that first move from the feminist world.
But of course I was too busy with myself now to notice, or didn’t want to.
I was moving to Switzerland, and would live there for almost 15 years, work and… yes... once again know LOVE.
What I experienced there..!
I have lived in Switzerland for over 2 years now living a good life in the mountains; in the summer I’m a tour guide for mountain hikes, I teach people how to surf and sail. And in the winter I give skiing lessons of course.
I “fled” so to say from the Netherlands, because my asthma is getting worse, the oppressive atmosphere (also in experiencing Boylove) and because there were some bothersome changes for me in University education, which made me experience a second youth here. Also in the field of Boylove. Unnecessary to say that with my “work” -of course doing it for my own fun and getting paid as well!- I met a lot of kids.
You won’t find it odd that the boys got my special attention: holding them around their waist when teaching them how to surf, a little push on the bum or a helping hand when climbing steep mountain passes and helping the boys in and out of their wetsuits in the summer (the beautiful boy torsos engraved in my memory! –the girls were still wrestling with their suits…-) and at last in the winter helping the most beautiful boys with putting on those –luckily- difficult ski shoes.
With the last I saw my favourite part of a boy up close: their legs and feet…
In short, that was definitely something I could live with: sunny summers and white winters.
But a relationship, possibly even having sex with a boy I didn’t have. Edwin still controlled my thoughts and mind. I knew nice moments but no Love.
And then…. Came Florian.
I often went with house guests (I rented out two apartments in my large house) to a large spa slash swimming pool close to my house. In the Netherlands they had never heard of the word “wellness”, but in Switzerland going to a spa was part of their way of life.
One day in the summer of 1991 I was there again, with adult house guests (this time it really was for business…)
All the time in the world to enjoy the spa. Boys/Man separated from the Girls/Women –how it’s supposed to be.
And there he sat.
If you ever visualised your dream boy in your mind, well, this was him.
Literally indescribably beautiful. Might I give it a shot? Tall, slim but muscled, wavy long blond hair and deep blue eyes. If I may say that Tadzio from the wonderful movie Morte a Venezia/Death in Venice is his ugly twin brother, then the true expert might have an idea what I had to cope with. It seemed entirely unreal.
But it was most definitely real.
I took, by coincidence of course, a place opposite of this wonder of nature on the highest seats of the sauna. Luckily I had a towel laying loosely on my lower body.
It seemed like I was a bit excited by his almost unearthly appearance. It happens seldom that I’m not able to speak, but this boygod had done it.
Speechless I looked at him cautiously, and… he smiled at me!
I melted. And it was not because of the heat in the sauna.
After a couple of minutes he had apparently had enough and in his full naked glory he walked out of the sauna, no, strode to the cold water bath. Strangely enough, I also felt like it was time to leave the sauna and, semi nonchalant, followed this Adonis, this apparition.
I jumped into the cold water bath.
When I came back to the surface I thought I was hearing things; He spoke to me.
“a bissl’kalt war?” (a bit cold don’t you think?) he said in the local dialect. That meant he evidently came from here…
I quickly looked around to make sure that this prince really spoke to me, definitely an older (just thirty) and for him –still- unknown man.
Luckily I was built way more athletically back then. Did he look for contact with me?
In the Netherlands it had become common not to talk an older man when you’re about twelve. And definitely not when you’re sitting naked in a outdoor pool with such a guy.
Without a watching and suspiciously glancing mother in close range.
Because “You never know….You hear such horrible stories these days…!”
He really did ask me then. And just as with Edwin, history repeated; I spoke before I had thought!
“Yes you’re right, this cold!” I answered in high German, while with thumb and forefinger showing him a 6 centimetre (2.3 inch) length measurement, so as to point out the effect the ice-cold water had on our manhood.
Immediately the answer came, laughing… “Well, I have a solution for that"
“By the way I’m Florian, and you Sir aren’t from here I suppose?”
He called me “Sir”. Just like Him, at the fishing lake.
History repeated itself.
It almost seemed, I had the feeling, there and then, that from another dimension Edwin gave permission to move on with my life.
And I did, from that moment on in that cold water pool.
With Florian, together.
I can’t tell you in detail how Florian and I got to know each other further and how we made love together for seven years.
In Switzerland too there is a new law which, retrospectively until 1990 says that a person (or someone else for him!) can make an accusation of sexual abuse with someone younger than 16, until the “victim” reaches the age of 35, today…
Florian is now 32, and married with his French wife, Chantal.
-In three years time our story will come out. In a child hostile environment regrettably.
Florian's son, will be about six years old then, and can read our tale when he’s older.
He named his son Jerôme, Schweizerfrans (Swiss-French) for… Jeroen.
At least I had the time of my life between 1992 and 1999 !
In the meantime in 1994, Dutroux from Belgium became world news. The girl-killing heterosexual man, who is still being referred at as Pedophile and should be on one line, according with the Vox Populi, the voice of the people, with people like me.
The times changed quickly for those who practised boylove or desired it.
In the Netherlands, January 2001, the legal posession, for one's own use, of child pornography was banished to the crypts of criminal law. It suddenly became a crime punishable by a four to six year prison sentence, which punishment has since often been given.
Amsterdam in 1980 seemed ages ago.
And I was suddenly virtually a criminal.
In one of the rooms in my Swiss home I had made my own home cinema. One of the first generation beamers from the brand BARCO made me thousands of Francs lighter, but tens of boys richer; surely, on rainy summer days or snowbound winter moments my home cinema, with a genuine THX-surround sound system (which everybody has in their cars nowadays and in every nitwit television set, but at the time it was a revolution!) good business.
One day in (again) September, now in 2001, I watched the live broadcast of the 30-year artist jubilee of our, unfortunately now passed away, chief pedo Michael Jackson. May he play forever with all the beautiful boys that passed away on the carousel of Petrus!
Watching “Du er ikke alene” on a heavenly television screen....You are not alone....
One of my Dutch house guests seemed to have heard the heavenly voice of Billy Gillman when he sang his own version of the wonderful Jackson song “Ben” (and at the end looking mischeivously at MJ, who sat next to an adolescent Macaulay Culkin –he wouldn’t be home alone tonight- with next to him, Hollywood legend Elizabeth Taylor. Yes, yes “it’s grandpa's storytelling time”)
I didn’t hear the sliding door of the Hauskino (home cinema) open, so this house guest, the 10 year old Jesse, could, totally unnoticed, sneak in. Because of that he witnessed me wiping the tears from my face, touched as I was, because of the power put into the song “Ben” and also the clear declaration of love to Jacko from Billy Gillman, then also 10 years old.
“Hiya, Mister van Bergen, why do you cry, something wrong?” Came the sweet words from the mouth of this curly haired lil’ guy, while I felt a sympathetic little boy hand on my left shoulder.
This meant the beginning of the End!
11-13-2011, 07:25 PM (This post was last modified: 12-11-2011 10:11 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category: Youth Member Reflections
Title: Hey Kid, What are YOU Doing Here?
Author: Ethan Patrick
Hi, I'm Ethan. I joined BoyMoment in March this year, as Ethan Patrick. I'm new to this whole BL world actually, and I'm enjoying catching up on old issues of the MBM Magazine. I was working backward and got to Issue #8, where I found an article called “A Boy Being a Boylover“, by ShotaLover. This article inspired me to write about something that a lot of other members at BoyMoment have asked me ever since I joined. I have met a lot of friendly people there. I share a lot about myself, without giving out personal information. I have said that I have loved boys as long as I can remember, and that I was also abused by a man for over three years. So when I meet other members, they almost always ask the same question: WHY? Like why would such a young kid join a BL board? Or why would a kid who was molested stay after finding out that there were pedos in there? There isn't a really quick answer to that , so this is a good chance for me to talk about it.
How I found a BL board:
It all started when I got my own laptop for my birthday last January. Before that, most of my computer time was spent in the family room, where I didn't have much privacy. I used to check out pictures and videos of boys as much as I could, but I always had to listen for my parents or brothers coming by. Google Images and YouTube were like my best friends online. Then I got my laptop and all of a sudden I had FREEDOM to go online in my own room! That was the only thing I asked for, and I am so glad that I got it.
Now I was able to check out sites that I never could before. My parents gave me a list of rules that I have to follow for using the computer, but, of course my first searches broke about half of those rules. But I really wasn't that turned on by most of the naked pictures and stuff that I found right away. I wasn't looking for adults. I was looking for boys!
Googling for pictures of boys one day led me to a site called BoyLinks. That was like finding buried treasure! I spent weeks there checking out links to pictures, videos, and other sites. After going through most of those I found the boards. This is probably where I first even heard about boylove.
When I first joined, I was amazed at all the topics that were posted about boylove and boylovers. I admit that I was a little worried at first because I thought that I came across a place for pedos, which of course had to be BAD, right? But I was too curious to get out right then.
I read post after post of people talking about regular stuff in their lives. They were talking about how much they loved boys. They talked about their experiences and their lives with boys. They shared jokes and posted links. I never saw anything about anyone hurting boys, except for people that said how much they hated that! I was hooked.
My second family
Right away I met another member who was close to my age, and we became good friends. He knew that I was still nervous and introduced me to his adult friend. He said his AF was a good man and someone I could trust. That was really something I needed at the time. I never told anyone about my abuse and was really scared to. My friendship with them gave me courage to start posting and getting to know other members, and letting them get to know me, too. Later on, I met some other members who would become so close to me that I refer to them as family.
I just started out looking for pictures of boys, and now I am part of another family that I love and, which loves me and supports me. Sure, the board has a lot of pictures and videos, but those are some of the last places I check out. What brings me back everyday are my friends and family online: My adult friends and my brothers. I thank God for them.
So, am I just gay?
No. I have always loved boys, at least I think so. And that never changed when I got older. Sure I like boys my own age, but I also like little boys. So I think that I deserve a key to the BL campground, right?
So to answer the first question - WHY?
I didn't know what I was getting into at first, but after I joined I found out that I didn't need to be afraid. So WHY NOT?
11-13-2011, 07:26 PM (This post was last modified: 12-11-2011 10:11 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category : Boylover Reflections
Title : The Compensations of Age
Author : ddavey
Forum : MBM
Hey there! If you're the kind of person who just can't stand it when some old buffer starts droning on interminably, I thank you kindly for coming by, but I advise you to move on. That's right, I'm one of those old fools who been around a heck of a while and have only just learned that I know very little. I don't even understand quite how I managed to sneak past the millennium and on into the twenty-first century!
If you do care to stick around a while and keep me company, don't worry that I'm going to bore you with some ancient history. I do have a lot of that, and maybe I'll tell you someday if you'd like to hear it. An awful lot of water has passed under the bridge I'm standing on, but it's largely a shameful tale and there's little in it that's at all edifying. So I mean to let that lie for today. Instead, I mean to tell you how I find life as a boylover in my middle age.
Needless to say, we're all hurrying along life's road toward the exit from the moment we're born. Mostly we can and should ignore that fact, but as I've approached the far end of that road I have found myself rather more contemplative than I ever used to be. I have mellowed a little, become more considerate, more thoughtful. I like to think that I'm a better person than I used to be – believe me, there was, and still is, plenty of room for improvement. I have gained a deeper understanding of myself , with some help from my friends, who see me far more clearly than I can see myself.
OK, so I better stop rambling and get back on topic! As I'm sure you can imagine, as a guy gets older, a distance slowly grows between the guy and the boys, among whose number he once used to count himself. At first that distance is an advantage – it sets up an interesting difference which increases the attraction in both directions, the man to the boy, and the boy to the man. But eventually the distance begins to transform into a barrier. I have gradually lost the ability to understand kid-speak- the ever-changing vernacular of childhood and youth. I pick up the occasional word or phrase now and then, usually when it's already out of date, but can't convincingly string a sentence together. But that's for the best – the last thing any boy wants is to meet some old graybeard who speaks the same way he does! Even if I had a modern boy's vocabulary, his world is so far removed from my own that I should never have a clue what he was talking about. Boys today chat about Play Station, X-Box and Wii, all alien to a guy who grew up playing cowboys and enjoying “Listen with Mother” on the wireless.
Nowadays a boy will usually have his own mobile phone, and will use the internet with ease. He'll do a bit of social networking through these wonders of contemporary communication, while I rely on a chat with someone as I wait for the bus, or a joke with the guys in the butcher's shop for my social interaction. And that's another difference between boys and me – I grew up in an era when everyone was willing to speak freely (on all but some private subjects) to anyone and everyone else. Lately everyone is more reticent, and especially the young, who are carefully trained to avoid 'stranger danger', and who also tend to travel by car instead of public transport, and watch DVDs at home rather than attend the low-cost children's movie session at the local cinema - the so-called “two-penny rush”, where instead of quietly enjoying the film there would be heckling and laughter, maybe a fight, and likely as not you'd go home with chewing-gum in your hair. Things once done in public have nowadays become private, kept within a boy's immediate family, and his social circle is consequently smaller and less diverse than my own. If you've stuck with me so far on this tedious verbal journey, I guess you're wondering when the old coot is going to get to the point, and tell you what are the compensations of age. All I did so far is compare the past and the present – nothing original there at all. So I'll get right on with it.
The most obvious compensation is that in old age a guy's libido is lessened. Sure, the same sexual interests and urges remain, even, to some degree, the ability to act upon those urges. But the pressing urgency is gone, and for a boylover, that's a benefit. At last it isn't a struggle to concentrate on the finer aspects of ones orientation, without bodily distractions.
Also there is the compensation of contentment. Ambitions and dreams remain, but a middle-aged guy comes to realise that there just isn't time left for some things to come to fruition. He can accept that with equanimity, since he hasn't the energy he used to have to strive for his aims. So he is pleased with small things – a smile from a boy, watching a school football match, hearing a boy's laughter. Realising his own insignificance in the world, he no longer hankers so much for a Special Young Friend of his own, but can get a broader joy from the appreciation of boys in general.
Another compensation is to be unnoticed. A boy's perception of adult folks varies according to their age relative to his own. When he's small he will see teenagers as sophisticated and exciting people. Men of a similar age to his father he will usually regard as grown-ups, protective authority figures. And anyone much older than his parents will be pretty much invisible to him unless he knows them personally. Consequently, a middle-aged man can unobtrusively be around boys in a public place without fear that his presence might cramp the boys' style or inhibit their fun. They simply won't see him unless he makes a direct approach.
The converse side of this invisibility is maybe the greatest compensation of all. If an older boylover should be lucky enough to come into contact with a boy, to actually meet one, he might notice that he makes a greater than expected impression upon him, without even trying. Although by now he may have come to regard himself as physically unattractive, past his best, and irrelevant to the present time, the boy will certainly not view him in the same way. To the youngster this antediluvian creature might be a thing of wonder – the boy might trace those laughter lines with his fingers, gently stroke the glistening pate, peer inquisitively at those hairy ears and nostrils, and marvel at the missing teeth. He might even enjoy the strange stories from a world long gone, and those unfamiliar songs and jokes, so different to the ones he heard before. Truly, this might be a marvellous friendship.
But be careful – if the boy is timid, he might take just one look, and run!
11-14-2011, 09:54 AM (This post was last modified: 12-11-2011 10:12 PM by 420Guy.)
RE: Issue #11 - 5th Anniversary Edition
Category: Editorial Essays
Title: Stepping Out (Beyond the Boards)
Forum: Young City
Warmer weather makes me positive. It awakens my compassion to see people about in the sunshine after so long stranded within the confines of our homes. Human beings were not meant to be held up in the dwelling, the car, the store, but to be out amongst each other. When we are bundled and brisking through the cold air, we become so internally focused and brash with others, but when we are able to fully flex ourselves in the warmth, we become more open, friendlier, and less inhibited--which is a truer and happier expression of our nature.
The cold affects our perspectives; We focus on our oppressors because we are essentially cooped up with them and have no refuge in the cold. In the same way, the warmth affects us, as we begin to focus more on those who deserve our sympathies, respect, and love, because even in the face of our adversary, we're able to find refuge in the warmth of nature and others. We begin to recognize that none are beyond redemption in our own eyes, except those who refuse to be.
Indeed, the life of a BL who is locked into the online world is much like living in a perpetual state of winter. While the boards are great in moderation, they encourage isolationism, they encourage the fear of the outside world. When we are locked into the online world, our enemies are constantly present all around us, our paranoia is fed, and our anti-social behaviors are reinforced by like-minded people. You have to go out amid the people, young and old, of all kinds of persuasions, if you are to truly break free of the "daily reality" of your sexuality. Take a break from it once and a while.
When you go out there, the first thing you'll find is that most children do not ask for, want, or need our attention, so they are best left alone if we truly want to do well by them. However true that is, it is still our duty as human beings existing in a society to make sure we extend the olive branch of peace, love, tolerance, and respect to as many of our fellow human beings--men, women, girls, and boys--as will receive it, and live and let live with everyone else. I think once you do this, you'll find there's far more to being a Boylover than can fit in a message board post.
There are those who do not think a child, no matter how respectful or indignant, ought to be extended this olive branch of fellowship, because they do not regard children as worthy of receiving it. They'd wish to reserve all best-wishes and civility for those they deem worthy of giving it. These are the people in the park who have let the grip of stranger-danger pervert their good nature, and one can only hope they could eventually be reasoned with. If a child is being disrespectful and they are with a respectful and dignified parent, to refuse to show compassion toward their parent in a friendly "hello", is to be placing the child's tantrum above the respect for the parent. Everyone generally believes this is true. When not given, it is why parents feel ashamed when they are in public with disorderly children--they naturally fear judgment, and children are no doubt aware of that.
Just as much though, I say that if the parent of a child is unwilling to receive the good tidings and respect of a stranger, and the child is open towards such cordiality, than to deprive the child of the dignity of a friendly "hello" is to position the disrespect of the parent over the openness of the child. Children are never off-limits to the well-wishes and respect of an honest stranger just because their parent hasn't deemed him worthy to be dignifying their child with a friendly "hello". We can all agree that it is only when the stranger aggressively pursues his momentary acquaintances that he has crossed the line of acceptable conduct, but none of that is implied from the friendly "hello" on its own, so therefore, there is no reason to deny one being given.
I would rather anger a disrespectful parent with a cordial child in tow by choosing to greet them both with a friendly hello, than ignore the dignity of one for the bad behavior of the other. There is no harm in a friendly "hello". Such a thing when given freely and genuinely, is an expression of human love--the reinforcement that binds our society from collapse. If Childlovers can do this--if we can step out there beyond the boards and show love and tolerance for our fellow human beings, then regardless of what should happen to society, we will have done right by its children.
That, is my highest desire.
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