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People suffering from Erectile Dysfunction have been very quick to embrace the Impotence drug called Viagra. Nobody can rule out the effectiveness of Viagra against Impotence but there are some cases where the drug is susceptible to some major side effects. These could be in the form a heart disease, diabetes and blindness.
New studies reveal the possible impact of Viagra on the visibility of a person. According to British Journal of Ophthalmology, a person may suddenly lose his eyesight resulting in Blindness. The doctors treating the problem, have warned their patients against the new fall out of Viagra.
Experts working on the subject feel that the drug could be reducing the flow of blood to the optic nerves resulting in the damage. Erectile Dysfunction drugs work on the mechanism of transferring more blood into the penis. The amount of blood being limited results in improper distribution of blood to other parts of the body. This may be one of the causes of blindness in people consuming the drug.
The manufacturers though, have criticized the new study saying the study is very brief and there is no clear indication of “Viagra” being solely responsible for Blindness.
Studies are still underway to find more and more cases, where people have suffered from sudden blindness after consuming Viagra. The researchers continue to encourage men to have the consultation of a physician before going any further with Viagra.
FDA (Food and Drug Administration) has reported that the recent cases of blindness may have been due to diabetes and heart problems that people carried before consuming the drug. However, it has been known that the problem does affect people suffering from Erectile Dysfunction and the damage is more lethal in people consuming the blue bill.
The manufacturers of Erectile Dysfunction drug have different views regarding the whole issue. They say the results could vary depending on the patient’s observational nature, his recalling capacity and the biasness of the interviewing person.
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A report from the Massachusetts Male Aging Study shows that cycling more than three hours a week increases a man's risk for becoming impotent, while cycling less than that decreases risk. Impotence is caused by nerve and artery damage. Exercising regularly helps to keep arteries healthy, so bicycling helps prevent impotence, as long as it does not damage arteries and nerves. Three percent of regular male bicycle riders become impotent and virtually all feel pain or numbness when they ride.
If you feel no discomfort when you ride, keep on riding and stop worrying. If you feel numbness, get a new seat. When a nerve is pinched or the blood supply is shut off to the penis, a man always feel numbness. Men who ride with conventional bicycle seats and do not feel numb are not at risk. Half of the penis is inside the body and the main blood supply comes from the area just behind the scrotum and in front of the rectum. So bicycle seats that press on that area can cause impotence, while those that do not have a nose and have a widened area for pressure on the sitz bones should not cause impotence.
Racers need to have a bicycle seat nose between their legs to help control the bicycle with their legs, but if you have no need to ride with both hands off the handle bars at the same time, you should be able to use a noseless seat, and enjoy cycling without discomfort or impotence,. I use a seat that has no nose and is wide enough to allow me to sit on the sitz bones of my pelvis. I never suffer numbness and don't worry about impotence.
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The Forest
As we drove farther into the outskirts of Augsburg, looking out placidly across the top of cars, houses, and at the dogs running about, I got thinking, thinking how I felt being with Chris, about Chris. It was like I was cast into a spell, an enchantment, or perhaps a curse; very seldom did I ever feel like this. Normally I would feel like this only if I was in the presence of a great person, like my karate instructor in San Francisco, Gosei Yamauchi, or his father ‘The Cat’ Gogan, who was one of the few 10th degree black belts in the world. Normally I’d be high the whole next day. With Chris I felt the same way I knew tomorrow I’d be high all day, it was a natural high.
Once—I can’t remember when—I had read something about the poet Emily Dickinson, she was something like a recluse, but she made a poem indicating nature was her high, and I always remember that. How true this can be, grabbing the moment and cherishing it, absorbing it as if there was no tomorrow, and at the same time absorbing nature: the sounds and the heart beat mother earth, and sky; others humans, and the dogs and birds, all such things that at that moment surround you; they are all somewhat magical. I was learning, how to be a listener if anything and it entailed all things within your presence.
Chris was fully alive now, as I turned my head towards her delectation her steering wheel facing me, at which made the moment a little more interesting, as she felt good about me checking her out; a weary kind of sense, not defeat, just a good profile look; I thought dimly in my mind as she drove mile after mile: how could she afford to look so prim and proper all the time. Do her hair in a unique style, not a hair out of place, so it seemed. I guess in our own way we are all unique, I heard that someone say that someplace, not sure where.
An hour and a half had passed on by and she was still driving, and it was getting dark. She pulled into a wooded area; she said it was the outer rim of the Black Forest (otherwise known as the Eyebrow of the Woods), I think I heard of that forest in a fairytale book or at least that is where my mind said I got it from. An enchanting name, I must had said it my second self, that little person inside of all of us that we talk to: Black Forest, Black Forest…!
“So you see,” said Chris “…here we are!” She added her conclusive little smile to her face as she said that; as we entered the dark huge green forest, parking the car a little off to the side of a dirt road that lead into the deeper and more distant part of the forest, partly covered by trees and bushes now.
There was a chill in the air so I rolled up the window, as she turned on the radio for some music.
Very quickly and carefully she moved her thin reserved neck and shoulders into my area, she just starred at me, as if she was going to eat me up; as her left arm was lowered, it pulled out a bottle of Mosel-Saar-Ruwer wine, 1965 wine, -- I looked the bottle over 9.5% volume; I knew they had been making wine around this intriguing river and hilly area for close to 1700-years. It was good wine I had tasted it before, not sweat or dry, flowerily white wine to be exact.
“Now,” said Chris indignantly, but with the air of a certain point, “…let’s see what we can do with this battle.
We started to drink and laugh.
“Ah, yes,” I said to her, “you have a lovely profile.” She smiled and threw her head back.
“Well,” I thought out loud “… this is a good way to pass the night away, and begin romantic indecencies”-- she leaned over the center-divider of the bucket seats to kiss me. She opened her mouth, sunk her lips on mine, as she pulled her long legs to the under-part of the dash, she then started to unzip her zipper to her boots.
“This,” commented Chris “passes everything…I never did it in a car before.” She had drunk down 1/5 of the wine like a person drinking water.
“Chick,” said Chris, ”…come over here.”
I moved my body closer to hers. Everything seemed to be in the way. I could not back out of whatever was going to happen; and I knew what was in the makings.
She was starting to stretch her hands out: --her blouse went over her head, I just kept looking as she started to strip, I was growing, getting as hard as a pencil.
“Oh, damn Chick,” said Chris heartily as she touched my item. Just her saying that aroused me; then pulling off her bra, and her skirt up I seemed to become tranquilized somehow, my mind slipped to King Solomon, of all things, as he once defined the beauty of a woman’s body and how it was to measured for one’s pleasure by enjoying it fully, and this was all I wanted to do now—enjoy it, and I think Chris was feeling the same way for even though we were both a bit on the tipsy side we were fully aware of our responses, I had lost complete focus of the uncomfortable situation, as she did…
◊…now that she was almost completely stripped only her panties on, she curled up in a fetus position holding her legs and leaning back, then opened up her legs slowly… I thought what every on earth possessed her, yet who can predict women I told myself, and started to take off my cloths, quickly…getting out of this spill of sorts. I guess it is true, men like to observe, and women like to touch. I liked both. This was not dirty sex, this was pure sex, at its height, one might even say, it was like a painting; she painted the picture, she taught me how to enjoy what she had to offer.
“I’m going to get it all off in a minute,” I said, it was difficult working in this cramped space… she chuckled, “Slowly please, I can wait…”she softly said as she rested her head back and I caught my breath, that is what she wanted, that is, for me to calm down, yet remain hard and possessed with her offering: I think we both had multiorgasms
“I feel fine now –“ I said, adding, “cramped but fine…☺”
Chris opened up her arms I couldn’t back away after that, could I?
I told myself: I have a private room at the barracks…. Then said it out loud to her:
“Of course, -- next time…” said she, and we continued to make love for the third orgasm for me, for her, perhaps five or six.
We seemed to flop around the front seat finding the right position…’she‘s looking at me eeeeeeeee’, I told myself, I’m cramped, nothing to grab a hold of, her head leaning against the glass of the window. Without a word we continued: --my body heavy onto hers, my heart beating two-hundred ticks a minute, we both were hot, enmeshed in the moment, a lustful, and burning moment; I wanted to open the door, but feared the light going on and someone would see us, plus the air was cool, too cool. I had no escape we met each other’s eyes as I penetrated her. She looked again deep into my eyes as she tried to catch her breath, to make sure I was still alive I think. It was seemingly unfair for me to put her through this I thought, but the thought only lasted a half second, I found myself exploding … as my heart dropped to my feet, and again, and again, I exploded and burned as if I had opened myself up to a volcano; I had learned at that moment, the difference between happiness and pressure: happiness was listening to her talk before, and then came her smile, now the pleasure, sex; I hurt, this had never happened before.
“Nice evening, isn’t it?” I said as I started pulling her body closer to me.
“I hope you are not offended I am taking the lead?” said Chris.
“Not at all,” I said, adding, “I’ll catch up.”
“There are times,” said Chris, “when rules are made to be broken like now, them...mmm damn silly rules…” she pulled herself up a bit, “I stopped believing in those rules… this is one of those moments I want to remember…remember for a long time, even after I am dead.”
As we tried to untwist our bodies, we caught ourselves laughing at our odd situation. We had made love, and became a little more sensitive with each other…a little more possessive of each other, I guess that is the nature of things in a relationship, they are made to progress, or stop, one or the other, and it was never to take place again in the front seat of a Mustang I knew….
She laid her cheek against my hand.
“Chick.”
“Yes?”
“You realize don’t you, this can’t end here?”
“There’s no reason for it to end, is there?”
“No.”
She spoke some German words I didn’t understand, German mingled with English I should say: then somehow, she went silent…maybe she was taking time to remember the moment, digesting it; I didn’t know, nor did I want to try to guess, I just looked at her, her smile it seemed to promise something, grace; instinct was in it also, around her small enclosed eyes, as they opened and shut slowly they were weaving a web I do believe, “It won’t end here, I promise.”
Pleasant and agreeable-like a well-cultured woman she was, maybe too much for me, she opened the door, and dressed quickly, then got back in.
“Want a cigarette?” I asked, sitting up straight.
“No and neither do you. We are both restless it seems. Come over to me,” she started kissing me.
As she released her lips from mine, she sat upright now, pulled out a cigarette, lit it and started blowing smoke rings into the air.
“You know perfectly well, I’m very much attracted to you…yoouuuu… right?”
“I hope so, I feel the some way.”
“Luckily the wine deadens the bruises (discoloration).” I commented, she laughed and kind of stretched her back to put it back in place…”Me to,” she replied.
“I wish all relationships could start like ours, it is like saying let’s drop all the game playing and pretend we are on the fifth date, and cut the crap; I like you Chick, I like you very much…”
“The bruises will show up tomorrow,” I told Chris.
Kind of saying maybe we should go, but neither one of us seemed to be all that bothered with that so we simply started kissing again after her cigarette brake…it was a long and needed pause for me, for a second breathe, a refractory period I needed [from uninterrupted sex]; that is, having multiple orgasms drains a man. I’ve learned also, women don’t need this rest period; so in time I’d learn how to last longer, and perhaps stretch the orgasms thinner but again, longer (three hours at the most; and I did).
I thought in my head, she was having sex with me, and then that rich boyfriend she had; she was getting her multiorgasmic pleasures indeed, perhaps a secret to some women, for once they discover this, it is hard for any man to keep up with them, lest he be a superman of sorts. I did not even at that young age have the capacity to pass six organisms; five was my limit I learned. I was limp now; my penis had been as pointed as a scorpions tail a while ago.
As scary as it started out for me I thought my reactions afterwards was cool, I seemed to be letting things take their natural course. It was a dark and colorless evening. Grossly romanticized in such an unimpressive way (so I thought in the back of my mind), yet Miss Chris was perfect.
I thought to myself: maybe she might be annoyed with my lovemaking… I guess every man wants to please the woman, wife, girlfriend, the one he is making love to, or should want to please her, but most don’t; how can they, they pop too quickly. This is a fact, I’ve talked to men, and when they say they go so quick, no woman could get it on in that time period. A woman taught me how to hold myself from climaxing too early, thus allowing the woman to catch up—and therefore, allowing my female mate to get it on and enjoy. I know this evening went a little fast, but Chris was modest about it, like that other woman who had taught me, helped me, to help her, so we both could enjoy each other more; as my slowing down kept my penis hard longer, allowing her pleasure zone to become wider. This was something of the case in hand, but not completely.
Most men think they make love better drinking, but it’s far from the truth. Most men do not know how to make love, no one taught them, so all they do is f*ck, and that is not love, that is, if anything, a quick climax, like eating a big fat burger, and wiping your mouth in its enjoyment and then leaving the café only to find out: you got indigestion, and had you went to a nicer restaurant, ate slower, you’d never forget the meal.
I have experimented with that theory, and it is nine-minutes verse four-hours, I say four hours, but I knew in my head it was only one time I lasted four hours, two and a half was the norm.
I was thinking now—as Chris kissed me—how I owe some women a bit of gratitude for allowing me to have my pleasure and not returning it to them; that’s the caretaker in a woman I think. But women just don’t know men can learn. And men are too bull-headed to let women teach them what pleases them. I had learned a good lover was worth his weight in gold and even maybe a little more: sometimes they can be irresistible.
One could hardly tell her it wasn’t hastily done, our sex (to me it was) for it was, but she seemed to understand the circumstances, and we need not prove anything today, only allow our bodies to be sanctioned to the other. So I think we both felt. Lovemaking would improve as time went on.
“I’m afraid my lover, we will have to find better accommodations next time,” Chris said, smiling at me.
“Yes,” I hesitated, “absently,” I hesitated-- “I feel the same way.”
“It’s a little hard in such a cramped car luckily we are both a little tipsy….”
“I’m afraid I’m not, somehow I sobered up when you took your blouse off.” She smiled, with a grin.
“Yes. I sense you have, do you really like me Chick?”
“You are growing on me. And what is there not to like?”
She was like a schoolgirl at times, needing to be encouraged, to grow up, and needed to be admired. But she didn’t need permission to live, she was taking that—but I’m learning to appreciate women more, I told myself, and it seems the more I show appreciation, the more they respect me, and to be quite frank with myself, I need respect. And why not … the world will give it, if you demand it, and if not, let that part of the world go; so my second self, my mind’s eye, told me.
But then as I looked at her, if she really felt she was on death row, with cancer, maybe I was just a remedy for a while, and if so, so what, maybe I needed a remedy to make it through my time here in Germany; so seemed just to me.
8
The Spider and
The Web
A warm-wind had picked up it seemed, and April and May in Germany was a paradise of light-cool sunrays, it was a spring never to forget, Chris and I were growing on one another, like white on rice. More community drinking fairs were picking up and Chris and I tried to make a few, drink it up and eat and just go with the flow; it was a good time for living.
Chris and I were known throughout the guardhouse-barracks as lovers and a heat wave at that. She seemed to have a charm with my soldier friends, and often drove her German boyfriend’s Mercedes car to the gate, and about, showing off kind of, not only to me, but it seemed at times going out of her way to show it to the other guards. Most of my friends thought she had two cars, I simply did not up date them, if they were not in my way of thinking or inner circle—why squander my time; and in most cases they didn’t have a need to know; but Ski and a few other of my friends knew the truth. I felt: plus, I felt: why not let Chris make an impression at the guard shacks, if it helps her ego so be it. I do not think I was envious, rather amused. I’m sure somewhere along the line I’d have to deal with envy, but who at my age is envious, for what, I have a lifetime to catch up.
She flirted with the guards, and they all thought it cool. At night, if I had to work, she would bring me by a sandwich while on duty; in one way she got the guys a little jealous, or in lack of a better word, annoyed. And sometimes she would simply walk into barracks, which had about fifteen-guards some running around half naked from the shower room to their room, while others went visiting. She’d come knocking on my door. She’d spend the night with me, it was an improvement from the car, and for some reason we only went over to her house once in the following two months. I knew we were not fooling anyone at the guard-barracks, but we pretended to be secret about it anyway.
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Sexually Transmitted Diseases – are transmitted through sexual contact. STD -are generally divided into two categories, bacterial and viral. Bacterial infections are relatively easy to cure if detected early. Viral infections are technically incurable but the symptoms are controllable if detected early. Having a sexually transmitted disease (STD) can increase a person's risk of becoming infected with HIV. STD treatment reduces the risk of HIV infection.
The human immunodeficiency virus HIV, Acquired immunodeficiency syndrome AIDS and sexually transmitted diseases (STD) are one of the main concern today. The patients affected by them are large in number and alarming as it is infectious. Anybody anywhere can get the virus, from one person to the other, from a mother to a baby. It is estimated by the Joint United Nations Program that there are over 34 million people worldwide affected with HIV/AIDS. Out of them only few are aware of their being infected and spreading the virus.
To begin with HIV - the human immunodeficiency virus - is a virus that kills your body slowly and slowly. HIV attacks human cells and uses nutrients and energy provided by those cells to grow and reproduce. HIV can be passed from one person to the other. If someone with HIV infection has sex or shares drug injection needles with another person then he or she is likely to be HIV positive. It also can be passed from a mother to her baby when she is pregnant, when she delivers the baby, or if she breast-feeds her baby.
It is very important to keep yourself away from the virus getting into your body and it is equally important not to let others get infected by it. There are different ways of getting infected by HIV as • If you have unprotected Sex with someone who has HIV. The virus can be in an infected person’s blood, semen, or vaginal secretions. It can also enter your body through tiny cuts or sores in your skin, or in the lining of your vagina, penis, rectum, or mouth. • If you share a needle and syringe to inject drugs or share drug equipment used to prepare drugs for injection with someone who has HIV. • If you had a blood transfusion or blood clotting factor that you got before 1985. As all blood in the United States have been tested for HIV since 1985.
How can you protect yourself from HIV? • Make a mature move, both the partners should not hesitate to go for HIV test • If you are pregnant then have an HIV test. • Make sure to use condoms.
AIDS - the acquired immunodeficiency syndrome - is a disease you get when HIV destroys your body’s immune system. Normally, your immune system helps you fight off illness. When your immune system fails you can become very sick and can die.
An HIV-infected person receives a diagnosis of AIDS after developing one of the defined AIDS indicator illnesses, (opportunistic infection). A positive HIV test result does not mean that a person has AIDS. A diagnosis of AIDS is made by a physician using certain clinical criteria. There is no cure for AIDS. There are anti drugs now available that can slow down the virus, and slow down the damage to your immune system. These drugs have also helped reduce the overall rates of opportunistic infections in people with AIDS.
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Six stories, six fates, six ways to show us… Fallen idols.
The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber by Hemingway is pretty ironical. The main character rich Mr. Macomber has everything he needs to have – money, handsomeness, beautiful wife, the status in the society. But he’s not happy. Is it true that due to the high status in the society he tends to gain all of the things he does not need in general. If he’s just a normal person, having wealth would make him confident and calm. What’s that Francis lack that makes his life just a spectacle? Being in state of fear of loosing all of his wealth forms his not self-confident. Francis does not believe in himself and vain killing of a lion becomes a push for the further actions – wife’s reproaches and as a result – overestimating of the values. And finding the way out of fear, Mr. Macomber stops to be afraid – afraid of his wife, wild animals. He finds that power of universe is inside of him, he trusts himself, listening to inner voice. And exactly at the moment when his life changed, he’s killed. Is it always in this way so when a person finally finds the way of being happy, he dies.
Let’s look at Miss Lonelyhearts by Nathaniel West. The author purposely does not make us aware of the main character’s name. Miss Lonelyhearts – it’s not just the nickname of the man, it becomes his name as a preist, as St. Paul for example. So, a young man writes the advice column in a newspaper. In the beginning of his work, he does not really take it seriously but like a job-joke. Later he realizes that his correspondents take him seriously. And becoming a speaker of the moral values just like Christ at his time, he stops seeing his job as a joke but himself as a victim of someone’s joke. He’s forced to examine the values by which he lives (as he himself told). He’s not gay anymore, he becomes sick. Miss Lonelyhearts tries to find the root of happiness being a perfectionist. But is he on the right way? He’s violent (remember the first dialogue with a woman loved him), he’s indifferent to other’s feelings (comes to Shrike’s wife when hiss boss at home). Gaining the Chirst complex he knows that standard answers don’t work. But what’s then? If he’d believed in Christ it would be clear what’s wrong and what’s right however he complicates himself. And finally finding the unity with the source of joy, God; finding the way out, Miss Lonelyhearts is killed. And all of this happens while people stop going to church looking for an advice. People go to the psychologists, watch the TV shows or right to Miss Lonelyhearts. And church becomes a place where money is made. Art replaces religion as the way to find, to experience the sublime. That’s what Miss Lonelyhearts’ boss Mr. Shrike preach to the author. Oh, humanity…
Soldier’s Home by Hemingway tells us about a soldier returned home from the war. Isn’t the home a place where a person feels not lonely? Just in the word “home” we see the comfort, care and love. People believe in home like in a place where you’re you. But look at Kerbs ( a man without name). Look at him! He returned from the place where not everyone returns – from the war… and the highest appreciation from parents’ side is allowing riding a car. Just imagine – a boy carried in his own hands weapons, seen death is now allowed to take dad’s car. The belief in waiting-all-the-time mother stays but what stands for that carrying and waiting? Was it the care about the life of own son? No-o-o. Religious mother thinks whether her son has sexual relationships with free European girls. She’s calm while she knows that her boy fits the role she wrote for him all of his life. And Kerbs is alien. His belief was twisted by the strong stress – going for war. But still being a boy, he’s looking not for an advice, further direction for living – he wants peace and comfort in his life.
In God Rest You Merry Gentlemen written by Hemingway we meet literal treating of Bible by a young man come to the clinics. There’s be a boy asking for the amputation of his penis just because being a young he could not stay impassionate for women’ bodies. Taking the rule of Christ about cutting a hand if it sins he does not understand that it is not the hand (or whatever it may be) that sins. The mind is so powerful that the thoughts take the physical form. And if a person does not like it, he should change his thoughts, as only they affect the matter. Story The Gambler, The Nun, and the Radio by Hemingway is about the artist who observes of the society, not being agree with it norms, points out the problems through his works of art. The main character is in clinics and he’s thinks about “opium of people”. Of course, thinking in his way, everything can be counted as opium. Why are his thoughts full of depressive notes? Because his physical sickness comes to the mental one, and being separate from the source of being, from the harmonious state of joy, he’s in pain.
Great Gatsby is beautiful, rich a sad story. Mr. Gatsby is a young successful handsome wealthy man lived in New York. He’s so wealthy that it allows him to make parties with high-society people. Being everything, he’s nothing – he’s Mr. Nobody from Nowhere. In past poor boy goes to the war and later comes back becoming bootlegger. Reading further we understand that his status is false – he’s even living in West Egg – a place of “easy money”. Being a watcher not an observer, Gatsby draws the picture taken from the past. Like a great successful producer he makes up amazing stage (his rich house next to Nick’s one), decorations (interior with its library and real uncut books), actors (the not-known guests during the splendid parties). Even script is written – a story taken from the past. The script is perfectly corrected – absence of Gatsby’s poor youth results in avoiding parents not fitting in the story (we meet the father only in the end), false Oxford education, cutting own past five years, aiming for the happiness in the future. And the audience, which as Gatsby thinks ought to complete the harmony, in the face of Daisy ruins the perfect façade. Or does he think he can stop time and turn the clock back? Anyway the play fails, the world created from the past forms pain. Gatsby is killed, Daisy left. Empty stage. I enjoyed reading the stories analyzed above. I read six stories and lived those six lives. Honestly, did not really understand The Gambler…Anyway The self-Reliance by Emerson is seen as a good example of finding the way out and staying alive meanwhile. Emerson proves that living in truth with yourself brings happiness. And it’s indeed so. At the time when Emerson strictly points at that, Hemingway, West, Fitzgerald give birth to the characters who are like us, live and want to live happily. All of them failed just because they believed in the outer criteria of joy, they did not realize (not all of them) that the only source of hope and belief is they are themselves.
