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According to the receipt I just dug out of the trash, as of 9:52 am this morning I became a man conflicted.

It was at 9:52 am on the morning of Jan 30th this morning that I purchased my very first "cup" from a local sporting goods store.

Let's first start with the necessity my purchase was trying to address.

To date, the only form of exercise I've found that I have the inclination to stick with are my weekly Mixed Martial Arts classes. I simply just find all other methods of rote body stressing unmanageably boring. Brazilian Jujitsu is the only activity where I can get a work out without constantly staring at the clock willing the constants of the universe to change and allow me to experience reality more quickly.

Unfortunately, my exercise of choice also routinely involves men 50 lbs heavier than me putting all their weight on my groin with their knee.

My wife, not helping matters, often refers to my martial arts training as me "hugging other men for 2 hours". I would love to invite you all to come see a class and see that the actual course involves nothing that could be construed as homoerotic, unfortunately I can't, since if you did audit the class you would see men hugging each other while slowly rolling from side to side and grunting.

So yes, I often come home drenched with the sweat of 250 lb Russian dudes. Gross, definitely. Sign of repressed sexual urges, whatever I say likely won't sway you. Boring, no.

I guess my best hope is that you take all this as a testament to how truly adverse I am to being bored.

So hopefully you now understand the need, and are satisfied with my answer to the unspoken question your raised eyebrow telegraphed after reading the circumstances which required me to purchase a mesh cup to protect my genitals.

To be honest, I really should have owned one before this. I've been doing martial arts for nearly 3 years at this point, cognitive dissonance always made me put it off further.

You see, in my High School Mind, owning a jock strapped cup had only one possible purpose: "to protect the balls of a jerk". The possession of one was an immediate indelible mark, a piece of information which would color my view of a person's very soul.

I am, and always hope to be a self-identifying nerd. I made three totally unnecessary Dune jokes before noon today. I spent my son's nap assembling the pieces of a homebuilt 1 Terabyte NAS. I named my dog after a biomechanoid space ship.

The scale is definitively piled. So why do I sense movement in the balance with the addition of a simple safety garment? How much psychic weight could possibly outweigh everything else?

I suspect the issue is similar to the paradox of Theseus' Ship. Even though I see the path that led from my High School self to the current one, at some point you have to ask, is there anything left of the old one?

I take promises I made to myself in my youth very seriously, and still stick stubbornly to many of them despite their clear nativity and lack of logic. This is probably because I miss the way the world looked back then, when it was all fresh to me, and try hard not to forget those first impressions lest there be a truth to them that I cannot rediscover later. I feel an instinctive need to cover up these in congruent beliefs, which seem to dangle strangely as bizarre additions to an otherwise grown-up mind.

When I first started going to these martial arts classes, I expected a replay of the hostility and predator vs prey attitudes from high school. Where locker rooms are filled with "Wild Kingdom" style confrontations of life and death.

What I found instead surprises me still. Friendly, decent people, who also, somehow, wear athletic supporters without it twisting their minds. At first I assumed they were all like Frodo, a coincidentally high population of those with constitutions high enough to bear the soul rending burden that comes bound to all convex penis covers. But after years of seeing nice people come and go, the liklihood of that theory dwindles. Leaving just one unthinkable options.

That perhaps my seething bias was completely unjustified... a painful revelation to come to terms with.

It is a pity that they can't make a protective covering for the testicles of the soul.


This is very funny. Especially the concluding sentence. I am still laughing.

There are no jock straps in crossfit :)
by: Mike (contact) - 31 Jan '10 - 20:12
Yes, but is crossfit homoerotic? From what I've heard it involves competitive squat thrusting with other men. =)

Since you didn't mention it I think I'll just flow that across for crossfit. =P
by: Kyle (contact) - 01 Feb '10 - 13:26
I'll also add that I think the following paragraph is very insightful self reflection:

"I take promises I made to myself in my youth very seriously, and still stick stubbornly to many of them despite their clear nativity and lack of logic. This is probably because I miss the way the world looked back then, when it was all fresh to me, and try hard not to forget those first impressions lest there be a truth to them that I cannot rediscover later."

In one of the audio lectures series I listened to called, "History of Science" the lecturer talked about the time period of the middle ages as a time when natural philosophers valued ancient (greek) authors and writings based on how old or far back the texts were believed to be. Thus, Plato was 'trumped' by the pre-Socratics, and so on. There was the idea that at one time, a long time ago, humans had access to pure knowledge, and that the passage of time has corrupted us.
by: Mike (contact) - 01 Feb '10 - 20:11


Meta Information:

Title: Unsupported
Date posted: 31 Jan '10 - 01:15
Filed under: General
Word Count: 750 words
Good Karma: 101 (vote)
Bad Karma: 66 (vote)
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