Category Archives: Online Life

Online Life, Paganism, Podcast

Reminiscing about podcast interviews I gave

Leave a comment

In my previous post, I mentioned that I had been a guest on four different podcasts over the past few years. I also realized that I had never posted links to all four of them or talked about them. I thought I’d take a moment to do exactly that in this post.

The very first podcast I was on was The Wormhole Manifest, which first went live in December of 2021. I actually got this particular interview because a mutual acquaintance, Frankie, had been on the podcast herself and recommended me as a potential guest. So Wormhole Matt contacted me and set something up.

Entering the Wormhole with Matt was probably the wildest and most random podcast interview I ever gave. This is because Matt’s podcast has a very loose focus and tends to cover alternative lifestyles. This was fun because we got to talk about things like popular myths about Paganism and witchcraft as well as pop culture references to witchcraft and my thoughts on them. Matt and I have talked about doing a follow-up episode where we focus on witchcraft in pop culture. Assuming he’s still interested in that, I’m the one dragging my feet at this point. I feel like I need to get caught up with a lot of recent pop culture portrayals (I have yet to watch American Horror Story: Coven even) before I can do such an episode justice.

The next podcast I recorded for an interview — though it was the third one to be released — was for the Poema Podcast. That podcast is hosted by James Prescott, who I know through Twitter and online deconstruction spaces. His podcast focuses on spirituality and many of his guests — myself included — have been former evangelicals discussing new ways that they have found to embrace and explore spirituality. My interview with James aired in June of 2022.

While I was waiting for the Poema podcast interview to be published, I did another interview, this time for the Thereafter podcast, which came out in May of 2022. Thereafter is hosted by Meghan Crozier and Cortland Coffey, both of whom I also knew through Twitter and online deconstruction spaces. In fact, I used to participate in Meghan’s deconstruction book club. This interview focused primarily on my journey out of evangelical Christianity and Christianity in general and how I found a new spiritual home in Paganism as a devotee of the goddess Freyja. This is probably the interview I am proudest of because it’s the one I found myself feeling most confident during.

After that, I went silent. I’m not the kind to go seeking interview opportunities (though I’ve considered changing that) and no one was approaching me. Then earlier this year, friend and grief counselor Mandy Capehart tagged me in a threads post letting me know that her colleague, Kim Evans-Handy (aka The Mocha Widow) was looking for guests to interview on her podcast for a series about how people from various religions and cultures viewed death and the grieving process. I contacted Kim and we set up an initial meet and greet. That went well, and we scheduled a time to record an interview, which she released back a March of this year. I’ve already done a separate post reflecting on my experience and feelings about that interview, so I’ll try not to rehash much of that here. What I will note is that this was an interesting and different interview than the other three (and I tried to keep each of them unique) in that it was not so much about my personal spiritual journey. Instead it was focused (or at least was supposed to be) more on a particular subject and how I viewed it based on my spiritual path. I’d love to do interviews on other focused topics like that if I ever run across a podcast that covers a topic I’d be interested in and feel I have something to say about.

Of course, the other thing that made this interview stand out from the first three was that it was the first time I appeared on a video podcast. The previous three had all been audio-only podcasts. I didn’t realize this one would include video until about a couple minutes before we began recording. Fortunately, my hair didn’t look too unkempt and I don’t think there were any (noticeable) stains on my shirt. But I learned an important lessons: Next time I agree to appear on a podcast, I need to verify the intended medium for the episode ahead of time!

Overall, I’ve found that I enjoy being a guest on podcasts. I’d love to be guests on more of them, and I’d absolutely do a follow-up episode on any of the four I’ve already been on. In fact, I did appear on another episode of Thereafter, though not as the episode’s guest. Cortland and Meghan had to record the introductory segment and discussion of recent social media happenings (“TwitBits”) the same night they recorded my interview. One of the things they planned to discuss (I don’t remember what) was something I had some knowledge about, so they invited me to participate in that recording as well.

As for new appearing on other podcasts. I guess that would require me to find other podcasts and possibly expressing an interest in appearing on them. I have a few hang-ups about that I’d have to get over first, but I’m absolutely considering it. Of course, I’m not sure how open most podcast hosts are to people contacting them about being on their show. I feel like the ones I’ve been on would be pretty open to it, as long as the person inquiring actually fit the theme of their show. So trying to get on a cooking podcast to talk about love spells probably wouldn’t go so well for me, for example.

Around The Blogosphere, Online Life, Paganism, Podcast, Religion

Thoughts on a podcast interview I gave bout death and grief in Paganism

Leave a comment

This morning, Kim Evans-Handy, aka The Mocha Widow, released the episode of her Grief Unleashed podcast where she interviewed me to get a Norse Pagan perspective about death, what might happen after we die, and the grieving process for surviving loved ones. I’d encourage you to check it out.

I greatly appreciate Kim for giving me the opportunity to share my thoughts on this subject. (Also, I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a shout-out to Mandy Capehart for making me aware of this opportunity and putting me in touch with Kim.) Kim was a delight to speak with, a great listener, and asked probing questions.

Overall, I’m extremely happy with the interview and the things I’ve said. However, as someone who sees life as an opportunity to constantly grow and improve, there are things I might have said or done differently in retrospect. For example, I might have cut the tangent about initiatory WIcca and what initiation is much shorter. I had originally only brought up the existence of the two “flavors” of Wicca because I was talking about reincarnation and wanted to point out that my own understanding of reincarnation (as near as I can tell as a non-initiate) tends to coincide more closely to the views of practitioners of initiatory of Wicca rather than those held by those practice non-initiatory Wicca. But Kim asked for a little details on what initiation was like (which would be a better question for those who have actually gone through it than me) and the rabbit that is my mind was off like a shot.

Similarly, I wish I would have taken more time to talk about the more common Norse Pagan view of the afterlife, involving people residing with one of the various Norse deities (with Odin in Valhalla or with Hel1 in her home are the two most commonly known possibilities.)

Shortly after I gave this interview on March 3, I found Essential Asatru in the Kindle Unlimited library and read it. The author, Diana L. Paxson spends a significant amount of time talking about the importance of honoring the ancestors in Asatru, and I wish I had thought to mention that as well during my interview. After all, some Heathens/Norse Pagans even believe it is possible to communicate with ancestors and even seek wisdom from them (which seems to be a pretty common view among many religions and cultures, to be honest). This seems pretty relevant to the topic we were discussing. But this is the problem one faces when one has a lot they can talk about an a limited amount of time to talk. If I had said everything I could possibly say, there’s a chance we’d still be recording.

As I said, I think it was a fantastic interview overall and I hope people find value in it. I just think that if I were to do it again, I might try to find ways to cut the parts where I was educating the audience about Paganism in general a little shorter and made more time to cover death and grief and Pagan perspectives on it. After all, that was the central theme of the interview and what was most aligned with the podcast’s intent.

Notes:

1In Essential Asatru, (which I mention in this post a little further down) Diana Paxson notes that some Asatru do believe in some sort of reincarnation and that certain readings of the lore support such a belief. So my tendency toward believing in reincarnation doesn’t make me a total outlier Heathens/Norse Pagans after all.

Online Life, Witchcraft

My Contribution to the OcculTea Conversation – Topc 4: Capitalising Off Community

Leave a comment

The fourth and final topic for the #OcculTea conversation is “Capitalising Off Community.” In this blog post, I will offer my thoughts on the prompt questions provided.

Do I consider online communities as equally valid to in-person communities?

I want to start my answer to this question with the obvious disclaimer that this is my personal opinion. For me, online community and in-person community serve overlapping but distinct purposes. Primarily, I see networking and sharing ideas as something that I seek in both online and in-person communities. However, when it come time to actually work magic and honor my gods communally, I personally prefer to do that in person. So for me personally, both types of community are valid, despite serving different purposes for me.

Having said that, I recognize that other have found ways to work magic and/or honor their gods through online community. As I am a strong believer in “not yucking other people’s yum,” I honor that those people have found a way to do so meaningfully.

How have online occult/witchcraft communities impacted me as a person & practitioner?

Personally, I think online occult/witchcraft communities impacted me more when I was first starting back out. You know, back in the dark ages when we had to use Yahoo Groups and web-based message boards because no one had invented Facebook, Twitter, or any of the other social media sites. At the time, I was still living in a rural part of Pennsylvania and I didnd’t know many witches, occultists, or Pagans near me. So I relied on the Internet to meet like minded people, discuss the things I was learning and the thoughts they inspired, and feel note quite so alone.

Today, I think I still benefit greatly from making connections with others online and getting exposed to a much broader array of ideas and views than I might find in my local community alone. So there’s still the same benefit, but I don’t think I need it quite so critically as I did twenty or so years ago.

What are some of the dangers of the current phenomenon of capitalising off the witchcraft community? Have I been personally affected by this, or have I witnessed someone else be affected?

I think one of my biggest concerns is that there seems to be a lot of consumerism in many parts of the online witchcraft community. Or maybe it’s just the parts I’m mostly exposed to. One of my constant concerns is that newer witches or would-be witches might be left with the impression that being a witch must be expensive by it’s very nature. I think this would be a great tragedy, because we don’t need that kind of classism in witchcraft.

I also want to note that this is not a problem unique to online witchcraft communities. I know people who have been left with a sense that they need to buy a lot of “stuff” to practice witchcraft due to interactions with in-person communities as well. I think the only problem with online communities is that it’s easier to spread that misconception much more broadly online, thereby discouraging more new or future witches.

Should there be paywalled communities and online courses?

Have I mentioned lately that I loathe yes/no questions? I think most of them rquire an answer that is far more nuanced than a simple “yes” or “no.” And this is absolutely one such question.

I think that developing and maintaining a healthy and helpful community takes a lot of time and effort. Preparing and teaching a course similarly takes time and effort. And I think that people who provide something of value to others deserve to be compensated for their time and effort. Also, in the case of an online community, it costs money to rent or self-host the servers that allow the individual members of the community to connect with one another. It seems reasonable to ask members who benefit from that community to chip in to cover those costs.

Having said all that, I’m also aware that this creates another potential for one’s financial status/class to dictate whether or not you get access to such communities and courses. As a result, how much money a person has to spend can impact the quality of their online witchcraft experience. That’s not something that I’m entirely comfortable with, either.

The best solution for this conundrum that I can currently think of is for those of us who are able to do so to help out those who may not be able to afford access to some of these communities and courses. I’m going to use a recent example from another community I’m a part of to illustrate what I’m talking about here. Earlier this month, two podcasts that talk about deconstructing/leaving evangelical Christianity held an event about purity culture, the issues with it, and positive steps people who have escaped purity culture can take to reform how they think about sex and human sexuality in general. There was a fee to attend this event, but numerous generous people donated money to help pay for people who could not afford the fee to attend the event anyway. In the online witchcraft community, I envisioning doing something similar, even to the point of setting up one or more scholarship funds of a sort. This is not a perfect solution, as even such scholarships probably wouldn’t be sufficiently funded to pay for everyone who needs the financial help.

Fortunately, I suspect there will also be those people who provide information, and opportunities to both learn and connect at no expense. As i said, this isn’t a perfect solution, but I will not let the perfect be the enemy of good.

How does one ensure the authenticity of courses/workshops/memberships/etc. as a financial investment?

I think the problem of ensuring whether a particular course, workshop, or community is authentic is a problem regardless of whether there’s money involved. It might get more complicated if you’re considering which courses, workshops, or communities to sign up for when you have a limited amount of funds to pay for them. Even so, I think the answer remains the same. Individuals will need to research the presenter/community organizer and what they are offering and determine whether they find the information/community trustworthy and worth the asking price.

Online Life, Witchcraft

My Contribution to the OcculTea Conversation – Topic 3: Imposter Syndrome and FOMO

2 Comments

The third topic for the #OcculTea discussion is Imposter Syndrome and FOMO. I had to look up what FOMO stood for. so let me save any reader from having to do the same thing: “Fear Of Missing Out.” I want to start this post by pointing out a post I wrote on Tumblr back in October about my own existential crisis over trying to be a content creator. I think that many of the things I talk about there fit well with this discussion. I will likely refer to some of the same themes as I address the prompt questions for this topic.

When I follow other creators in the community space, does it make me feel genuinely inspired and empowered or does it create feelings of FOMO and being less than?

I feel both inspired and intimidated when I look at what other creators are doing and saying online. I’m inspired as it makes me want to work harder and develop my own practice more deeply. At the same time, I find myself wondering if I really have anything to offer as a creator. And I wonder how some of you manage to come up with things to say/write every day. I just don’t feel that chatty.

Of course, some creators I follow aren’t doing the kinds of things I want to do anyway. I follow a lot of people who talk about how they practice witchcraft and even offer a lot of how-to advice and guidance. Personally, that’s just not something I want to do. So I can look at those particular creators and not feel intimidated or set off my imposter syndrome simply by acknowledge that we’re doing different things.

It’s mostly when I look at the creators that talk more about magical theory and/or theology that my imposter syndrome tends to activate.

For the most part, no. I need a reason to read a book (or jump off a bridge, for that matter) other than “everyone else is doing it.”

Now having said that, I have considered that I might need to start reading more books again to get further inspiration and ideas of things to talk about. But I’d rather choose those books based on whether they say anything I wish to engage with rather than whether they’re popular.

In this sense, I think I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m never going to be a “big” creator or influencer. I’m simply going down roads that don’t seem to have the draw as others. My issue is more about whether anyone at all is interested in the things I want to explore and talk about (and whether I really have anything original and/or of substance to say about them).

When practising my craft, do I find myself comparing what I do to what I’ve been seeing people do online?

Only in the sense that I often feel like I lack self discipline and consistency. But these re things I struggle with anyway. I think I’d be concerned about regardless of whether I see other people who seem to have much better consistency and self-discipline. it’s just that seeing them makes me more conscientious of my pre-existing concerns, struggles, and insecurities.

In what ways do I combat imposter syndrome?

I try to remind myself that I am my own person and it’s always dangerous to compare myself to others.

What would my practice look like without the social media influence of other creators?

For the most part, I think it would look exactly as it does now. Though some of my ideas may not be as well fleshed out without the ideas of other people to help get me thinking.

Online Life, Witchcraft

My Contribution to the OcculTea Conversation – Topic 2: Influencer Authenticity

Leave a comment

Today, I’ll be tackling the prompt questions for OcculTea topic #2, which is Influencer Authenticity. Of course, I’m not sure I’d consider myself an influencer, but authenticity is important to me. So bear in mind that my thoughts on this post will almost certainly Expand beyond authenticity on the parts of influencers. So with that basic introduction and disclaimer out of the way, let’s get on with the questions.

Out of what I share on social media, how much of it is staged vs. reality?

I’m not sure I fully understand this first question and I suspect that I think it’s setting up a bit of a false dichotomy as well. I think that staging something doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not real, though I acknowledge that this is the colloquial understanding of the concept. But to give you a counterexample, consider the time that my local Unitarian Universalist church invite my (eclectic) coven to speak to their middle school kids during religious education. One of the things we were invited to do was to describe our basic ritual to the students and even give a demonstration. That ritual was staged in a sense. And yet, it was legitimately our ritual and I think conducting it in front of that that class had many of the same results as when we performed it at our covenstead the full moon prior to it.

I will note that I generally don’t discuss the specifics of my practice online. (I’ll note that this is something Yvonne Aburrow and I have in common.) I tend to talk more broadly and about much theory. I also like to get into theology. About the only things I have shared about my practice is that I have shared some of the prayers I have written for devotional purposes. And I think reciting those prayers is a willful act filled with meaning whether I do so on or off camera.

Do I think there is an element of censorship in online spaces? How do I decipher what is “appropriate” to share online vs. what to keep privately? Is this based on “social media etiquette” or a personal preference?

Based on the follow-up question, I get the impression we’re primarily talking about self-censorship. I tend to share things that meet the following criteria:

  • I have a basic right to share it (That is, it’s not something I was given in confidence)
  • It is something I feel comfortable and safe sharing
  • I have no ethical qualms about what others might do with it if I share it or how it might impact them

Have I ever encountered or heard of grifters in our community? Do I recognize them? What are significant signs of grifters in the community?

Beyond the “spellcasters” that advertise their services (usually on Quora), I don’t think I have encountered any grifters. There have certainly people I’ve encountered who make me wonder how much I trust what they’re saying, but event hem I’m typically not convinced there’s an intent to deceive or defraud there. I have no doubt such people exist, however.

What tools are helpful to decipher misinformation, and how can we as a community prevent widespread misinformation?

This is one I think we need to take a certain amount of care with. There are plenty of witchcraft traditions and other occult and related practices out there. I’m not an expert on all of them by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I doubt I’m an expert on any of them! After all, even my own practice continues to develop and evolve over time.

Sometimes, I wonder if people are quick to discount something as “misinformation” when it’s really “something different from what their own tradition teaches.” In that case, I think that we need to be more accurate and say “this is contrary to my own tradition.” And yes, if someone is passing something off as being part of or a teaching of a particular tradition and we know this is false, we need to call that out as misinformation.

For the most part, I think a far more important thing to teach people is to learn to trust themselves, apply critical thinking skill, and figure out what their practice is and looks like. That way they can look at new information and decide whether they find it helpful and consistent with their own practice.

How does a large following impact the perception of the creator? Does this immediately make them an “expert”? Or are there other assumptions as to why they may have a large following?

Personally, I think the size of a creator’s following tells us more about their ability to cultivate a social media presence and following that it does about who they are as a witch or occultist. At most, it might tell us that what they are offering appeals to a lot of people. But again, this goes to my point that there are a lot of practices and traditions out there. A creator may have a witchcraft practice that I or someone else has no interest in for various reasons. I didn’t become a witch to follow the crowd. Though I’ll gladly go with the crowd if they happen to be going in the same direction I’m interested in going too.

How does one maintain the balance of authenticity and content creation?

I struggle with this. It’s probably part of the reason I have trouble creating content on a regular basis.

Online Life, Religion

Musings on sharing and passing on prayer requests on social media.

Leave a comment

This blog post is adapted from a Twitter1 thread that I tweeted out on the same topic.

Yesterday, I learned that my mother is in the hospital for COVID. I tweeted the following out to my followers, looking for support:

I would like to note that I specifically directed this message to “friends who…” I would have thought that this would have made it clear that I wasn’t looking for every person who believed in prayer to jump on it.

And yet, three different people who do not follow me and have no followers in common with me decided to retweet my request to their followers. I’m not even sure how any of them found my tweet, to be honest. As I said, I don’t follow me, and I doubt my tweets get promoted, sine I refuse to send Musk any money.

I get it. it’s entirely possible that these people meant well. After all, I think there’s an impulse to get as many people praying as possible. And I think that usually comes from a good place. But as the song goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. More on that later.

But I think we as a society also need to balance that impulse against respecting people’s privacy and whether or not they want every prayer they can possibly get. There are probably some people I don’t want praying for my or my mother. Namely people who are going to pray for an outcome I don’t approve of. (My mother’s health crisis is neither your evangelistic opportunity nor a chance to pray for my “salvation.”)

I will note that all three people who retweeted my request are Christians. Not the same kind of Christian, mind you. One seemed like a pretty progressive type. Another was an obvious Christian supremacist. I’d be hard pressed to describe the third one with such certainty, but their bio and tweet history suggested that they were at least inclined toward some degree of Christian supremacy.

Now, I will note that a lot of people I don’t know — including Christians who probably found my prayer request through the overt Christian supremacist — left kind offers of prayer. I appreciated that. But then you have good ol’ Tom, who totally found me through that overt Christian supremacist. Here’s what Tom had to say:2

I would be happy to pray for you, Jarred, AFTER you remove “send positive energy” from your request. If I pray Only God will get the glory.

Because leave it to a Christian supremacist to turn a chance to pray for a sick woman into a religious pissing match.

Now I’d like to think that most people — including multitudes of people who fall somewhere in Christian supremacy — would be horrified by Tom’s behavior. And many of my friends took Tom to task for his behavior. (Much love to you.)

But the Christian supremacist who enabled Tom to find me through his retweet? As of late last night when I checked, he hasn’t said a peep. He hasn’t taken Tom to task. Nor has he expressed any regret for — whether intentionally or not — put me in Tom’s rhetorical crosshairs. For me that’s a problem.

So consider this post a reminder that maybe not every tweet should be retweeted and that maybe we should take more care in considering what the consequences of retweeting something deeply personal and sensitive to other people might be. Even if our hearts are in the right place and just want to make sure that a sick woman and her son get as much prayer as possible. Because remember, I was somewhat specific in who I was directing my prayer request to.

1I will never call it “X.” However, if someone pays me $20 per month, I’ll gladly start referring to it as “Close App Icon.”

2I will not link directly to Tom’s profile or tweet because Tom does not deserve the traffic. Also, I’d just as soon he not find this post through Google search if he’s the type to search his name. (In fairness, I search my name about every six months and don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with the practice.

Memories, Meta-Blogging, Online Life

I Miss Diary Communities

Leave a comment

I got my start blogging over at OpenDiary.com. Of course, we didn’t call it blogging there. We called it writing in an online diary. But a lot of us tended to approach our online diaries like we were bloggers. A lot of us eventually created our own blogs somewhere else. Essentially, we had opinions and other thoughts we wanted to share with others, and we enjoyed getting feedback and starting dialogues over what we had to say.

To be honest, online diary sites, and especially OpenDiary, had features that made that a lot easier than it seems to be on more traditional blogs. Those sites were all about community and had tools and features that encouraged interaction between members in the community. There was the constantly updating “Recent Entries” list on the front page that let you know at a glance what your fellow online diarists had said recently. Then there were friend lists where you got a notification when one of your friends posted a new entry. There was also the Reader’s Choice, which was a small listing of people that a certain number of community members thought were worth reading. It was an interesting feature that had all the merits and problems that you’d expect from a system that promoted content based on popular vote, but it was still a way to promote content and encourage interaction.

My favorite feature was Diary Circles, which were pages dedicated to specific topics. When you wrote an entry, you could submit it to be listed in up to three different relevant circles. (It had to be relevant. People who submitted their angel food cake recipe to the Sports circle were shot down pretty fast.) That way, people who were interested in that particular topic could see and read your entry.

All of these things drove dialogue and debate. For the Religion and Spirituality circle — one of my favorite haunts — there was probably more of the latter than the former. Though I did forge some amazing friendships and there was a group of us that loved talking and exploring things together. That group consisted of atheists, Christians, Pagans, and Hindus. Our discussions were fascinating and amazing.

For various reasons, we all left OpenDiary for another site. Eventually we left that site for reasons that motivate me to not even name it. I moved to this site, though I also dabbled with blogs over on Blogger.com. and LiveJournal Other friends moved to LiveJournal, Blogger, Typepad, WordPress.com, or Blogger.com. Some of us are still blogging, though sometimes sporadically. I can’t speak for the others, but I still miss the online diary sites.

Running my own blog on my own hosted site means I don’t get all those fancy community-building features that encourage the same level of interaction and dialogue. It shows in my lack of comments — though there are also things I could probably do to fix that. And even a lot of the sites dedicated to helping you set up a blog seem to suffer. Sure, LiveJournal has LJ Communities and WordPress.Com has search tools to find other hosted blogs with similar interests. But it’s still not the same.

Some days, I would just kill for a Diary Circle or Editor’s Choice feature or one of those other gems that online diary sites were (and presumably are) so good at providing.

So, dear readers, are any of you bloggers or former bloggers? Have you migrated your blogging over the years? Does your current host offer features you didn’t have when you were hosted elsewhere? Or have you lost features you now miss due to a move? In general, how has your blogging experience changed and/or remained the same as time went by?

Gender and Sexuality, Online Life

Personal: A different way to have fun on Grindr

2 Comments

Like a lot of gay guys, I have an account on Grindr. I have what I think is a pretty nice profile picture up. The about me section has been pretty boring. I mean, Grindr only gives you 255 characters to work with, and it’s hard to be funny, seductive, and witty with only a couple dozen words — and that’s only if you stick to monosyllabic words! So this has been my profile recently:

Just a pretty dull profile on Grindr.
Just a pretty dull profile on Grindr.

I don’t get a lot of messages or responses on Grindr. Unless you count the spambots I get anywhere from one to five times a day.

Well recently, I ended up creating a second Grindr account.  This one is completely blank. No picture. No information. Not even my age. I won’t post a picture of what that looks like. If you want to know, just download the app. I can almost guarantee that there will be at least five guys near you who have no picture and/or no personal information entered.

So I had this other account, and I soon discovered that guys were contacting me through it. Yeah, that’s right. Guys will apparently line up to contact a completely empty profile while passing by guys who are trying to present who they are and have something to say. But that’s enough bitterness on my part.

Of course, most guys that contacted that profile opened with asking for a picture. (Those that didn’t usually asked in their second message.) I simply told them that I didn’t have a picture to send, figuring they’d go away.  Strangely, not all of them did.  In fact, most of them persisted. So I decided to have a little fun with it.

Sadly, I don’t have a capture of the conversation that really brought out my mischievous side. Because that guy gave me a chuckle, I decided to send him a picture after all and got rewarded with an instant block. But basically, when I told him I didn’t have a picture to send, he asked if I was Casper or something.  (My reply: “Casper? What makes you think I’m friendly?”) So that gave me the idea of giving whimsical responses to requests for pictures. The best one — fortunately I was able to do the screen captures before this one eventually blocked me — is the following:

"Not much. Just doing my part to corrupt everything that's good and evil."
“Not much. Just doing my part to corrupt everything that’s good and evil.”

It amazes me how much some of these guys can really push despite being told no. Granted not all of my exchanges have been as witty. Some I just turned down normally. Even those have been entertaining, though. After all, the butthurt can be something else. Take this fine example:

Not sending pictures on Grindr means you're not really gay, apparently.
Not sending pictures on Grindr means you’re not really gay, apparently.

I haven’t had anyone announce that I must be fat. I suspect it’s a matter of time. To be honest, I’m looking forward to that moment, because I already have my response planned: “Took you long enough to figure it out, dipshit.”

I’m not sure, but I think this guy was hoping that I’d offer him money:

Yes, that's a dick pic he sent as his first message.
Yes, that’s a dick pic he sent as his first message.

He didn’t respond after that, so I’m guessing he doesn’t have a thing for guys with a terrific sense of humor, after all. Le sigh.

I suspect I’ll be having this kind of fun for a while. If I have any more really awesome exchanges (be it butthurt on their part or particularly clever responses on mine), I’ll be sure to send them.

Also, one other good thing came out of this thought experiment. I now have a less boring profile for my other account:

You didn't know The Corruptor of all that is good and holy had a thing for tie-dye, did you?
You didn’t know The Corruptor of all that is good and holy had a thing for tie-dye, did you?

Dating, Online Life, Rants

Dude, try to remember I’m a person.

2 Comments

I’m on a lot of sites and mobile apps for meeting guys.  Some of them are “traditional” dating sites.  Some of them bill themselves for “flirting and chatting.”  A few are unapologetic hookup sites (and apps that don’t call themselves hookup apps, but only because doing so would get them in trouble with Apple and possibly Google).

On all of them, I have a fairly nonsexual profile.  No nude or even shirtless pictures.  And while a given profile may give indication I’m open to sex (including sex outside of the bounds of a longterm or romantic relationship), I also make it clear that I’m looking for even more.  Heck even my Grindr1 profile says the following:

Just a funny, friendly, and (allegedly) charming guy who likes to chat, laugh, and see what happens.  Say hi.

For the BoyAhoy/Skout app (which is where the exchange this post is about took place), my “About Me” section is a bit longer:

I’m a wonderful guy who loves to laugh and make others laugh.  I love making new friends and seeing how we connect.

I’m a romantic and often a goofy one at that.  I’m very affectionate, compassionate and caring, but have a wild side to, if brought out by the right guy.

A sample from the book I’m working on:

“You can spend the night if you’d like.” I blinked. I looked at him long and hard. I really did like him, and it was so tempting. He straightened and said, “Maybe I’m being too forward.”

“No,” I added quickly. “Believe me, it’s a tempting offer. And part of me wants to say yes. It’s just…been a while….”

He reached up and took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting my face up to his. I held my breath as he said, “Maybe it’s been too long, “ and leaned down. His lips met mine and I closed my eyes. My posture softened as our kiss deepened. I gave myself over to the experience, knowing that I wanted him more than anything.

He pulled back and looked into my eyes. I nodded. He unlocked and opened the door. I walked in ahead of him and headed up the stairs.

So this is the profile that a certain guy checked out a few days ago before he sent me his first message:

So what are you into

I replied with a variation of my standard reply to this question:

Reading, writing, movies, going for longs walks, going for drives, etc.

Apparently (and not surprisingly), this was not the answer he was looking for, as he made clear with his next message:

Haha ok that’s not what i meant but ok

Well,  yeah, I kind of figured that’s not what he meant.  However, it’s what I felt like sharing about myself at the moment.  (As an aside, other than a handful of pictures, his age, and the fact that he’s interested in men, his profile has “Ask Me” for ever field.  So he’s effectively shared nothing.)

I decided to reply with a simple “ah,” as I still didn’t feel like sharing the information he was clearly looking for or try to strike up a conversation when he’s put no effort into such an endeavor himself.

This is where the butthurt (or at least what I perceive as butthurt) came in:

Ok sorry to bother you I seen you on other sites but obviously your not interested in me take care

Okay, here’s are the problems I have with this response:

  1. Why would I be interested in someone who’s told me nothing about himself that might pique my interest
  2. Why would I be interested in someone who’s first message effectively calls for me to give a laundry list of my sexual interests and/or preferred sexual roles?  Experience has taught me that such a guy isn’t interested in me but merely what I can do sexually for him.  I don’t need long term commitment or love, but I do need to be seen as a person.
  3. If he’s seen me on other sites and bothered to glance at more than my profile pictures, he should’ve realized that last point might be an issue for me.  I mean, every single profile I have mentions I’m primarily looking to chat2 and connect.
  4. Since when has sharing a list of things that I enjoy doing with another person exactly communicated a lack of interest.  Sure, it makes it clear I’m not yelling “take me now!”  But it certainly indicates I’m open to conversing further.

I considered telling the guy all this, but I decided against it.  A while back, I realized I’ve grown tired of trying to explain to self-absorbed men who managed to go at least two decades without learning basic guidelines for conversing with strangers3.  So I just told him to take care and left the conversation.

1One of the reasons I chose my Grindr profile for this example is that it’s the profile that frustrates me the most, what with the app’s ludicrously small text limit.

2I’m beginning to think that most gay and bi guys think “chat” is always synonymous with “sext.”

3Note that I”m not talking about socially awkward or not knowing what exactly to talk about.  I often find those things endearing, especially if someone is struggling to be conversant in spite of that.  But I know a lot of socially awkward people who understand that “what will you let me do to you once I get you naked” is not an appropriate conversation starter.