How Hitting A Hay Bale With A Big Stick Changed My Life

by Jay Cradeur | Sep 13, 2015 | Uncategorized

Can men expressing rage prevent violence and foster wisdom? Author Jay Cradeur shares his experiences with a Hay Bale and a Big Stick.

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In 1999, I began a two-year apprenticeship with author Stuart Wilde. If you are not familiar with the work of Stuart Wilde, you can find his twenty books on Amazon. I first read Whispering Winds of Change and was hooked. I have noticed how some authors seem to literally grab me by the throat with their words, as if to say “This is true!” Hemingway, Thoreau, Whitman, Jed McKenna, Bukowski and Castaneda all had the same impact on me. Stuart passed just a few years back driving the winding bucolic country roads of Ireland, an apt departure for a remarkable being. Back in 1999, Stuart was very alive and fully embodied his mystical, magical, powerful, take no prisoners self. This is when my journey with Stuart Wilde began.

After reading several of his books, I felt I had found a kindred spirit. Therefore, I searched for live Stuart Wilde events and found him at a presentation in Sipapu, New Mexico in the fall of 1999. Following that experience, and feeling Stuart’s immense energy and charisma, I knew I had found my teacher. Consequently, my wife and I flew from San Francisco to Sidney, Australia a few months later to attend a more intimate intensive weeklong gathering of 20 spiritual seekers at his large castle like home in Milton. On the fifth day of the event, after spending most of our time training on the subtleties of meditation and energy, Stuart asked me to go out into the local woods and find a big stick. He gave me very specific instructions: Five feet long. Two to three inches thick. Smooth surface. Stuart handed me a saw, and off I went. Two hours later, I returned with the perfect stick. I had no idea for what purpose I had found the stick, but I was proud of my stick. Stuart carefully examined the stick, accepted the stick, and that seemed to be the end of that.

The next day, mid morning, Stuart asked all the blokes to meet him outside at the driveway in the front of the house. There we found a big hay bale. “Hmmm. What is that for?” I thought to myself. There on the hay bale rested my stick. Stuart had wrapped a white cloth around one end of the stick to create a protective handle. He proceeded to give us instructions for what was going to happen next. One by one, we were going to approach the hay bale, grab the stick, and take massive whacks at the hay bale. It was important, Stuart said, to use all of our body and strike with everything would could for as many times as we could until we felt complete, or totally exhausted. Equally important, Stuart instructed us to yell out loud the target of our anger and rage. This would make the experience more real and more cathartic. Immediately, upon hearing these words, fear started to settle in amongst my newfound band of brothers.

Allow me to step back from the story and address the fear. Having now experienced and led men in several hundred of these hay bale rituals, I have observed that the primary fear is “how will I compare to the other men?” “Can I do this?” “Can I truly let go and allow rage to consume me?” I am often surprised by how difficult it is for men, even when given full permission and group agreement, to let go and fully express their rage. I have no doubt that every man does the best he can. However this ritual demonstrates the self imposed barriers we place on ourselves. The great majority of men walk away from the hay bale experience feeling they did not give it everything they could. All men experience a breakthrough, however the little voice in our head whispers we could have given more. Fear stops us. In the end, this was a huge lesson for each and every man who did the hay bale ritual. It opened up each man’s inquiry into his own relationship with fear and self-expression.

One reason Stuart became my mentor for two years, the thing that always impressed me, was that he showed no fear. He never asked anyone to do anything he would not do, and he did everything full out. So when we started the ritual, Stuart was the first to go. He grabbed the stick and swung it over his head and hit the hay bale hard. He yelled out “Stuart, you fucking wimp!” and then again “Stuart, you fucking piece of shit!” and on and on, taking it out on himself, and all the lies he told about himself. Stuart had kicked the door wide open, and now we were to follow.

I was inspired. I went next. I apprehensively walked up to the stick, grabbed it and felt the weight of it in my hand. Then I took my first swing. Oh, it felt good. After a few tentative whacks, I forgot that anybody else was watching. My whacks at the hay bale became more intense. My target was god. I cussed at god. I yelled about how he had lied to me. I yelled about what an asshole he was for creating a planet with so much death and pain and misery. I called god a fucking hypocrite. I continued to whack the hay bale until I was ready to collapse. I gave it my all and felt complete as I walked away. When I returned to my place in the circle around the hay bale, I felt changed. I had never expressed my full masculine presence in that way. Never had I been given permission to fully self express, and speak aloud my deepest anger and rage. My body continued to tremble for several minutes, the effects of the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I felt like my balls grew in size. My inner warrior had been released. But I was not done, not by a long shot.

Then I watched as each man, one by one, took the long walk toward the hay bale. I observed how each man had his own way of striking the hay bale. Some whacked it as if with a baseball bat. Others, like me, raised the stick way over my head and brought it down with all the force I could muster. As it turned out, I was not the only one who had an issue with god. He was definitely the number one target. On and on it went. One by one, I saw men transformed from my friendly workshop mates to rage filled creatures who had quite a bit of rage to express. Over time, I relaxed, feeling complete, and ready to resume our more subdued and subtle mystical activities.

Next, Stuart said, “Now that you are all warmed up, we are going to do it again!” “For fuck’s sake,” I thought to myself, “what’s left?” This time, Stuart did not need to go first. I wanted to lead, and see what I had left inside me. I walked up to the hay bale with absolutely no idea who or what was to be the target of my rage. I picked up the stick, my stick, and started to hit the hay bale. Whack. Whack. Whack. And then, the name of an ex girlfriend that had broken my heart started to erupt out of my throat. “Carol!” Whack. “Carol!” Whack. “You fucking bitch!” Whack. On and on it went. The second round allowed me to go to a much deeper place of hurt and despair. With each whack, I was releasing the pain and freeing myself up of that gut wrenching memory. The second round was longer, more rage filled, and far more self-expressive. I found a new energy that sustained me, even when I thought I had given everything during the first round. Finally I was complete. My body trembled once again. I threw the stick at the hay bale and walked away. As I returned to the circle and I saw Stuart smiling. My buddy said to me, “I don’t know Carol is, but I hope I never meet her.”

Many men had a similar experience. The second round was much deeper, and more profound than the first. Once I had gotten the fear and self-consciousness out of my system, a whole new level of self-expression opened up. The superficial Jay had to take a back seat to a more authentic and real Jay. No longer was I a sensitive new age guy who discounted his masculinity. Now I was feeling like a real man. Jay meet Jay.

Over the years, I have led the hay bale process in my own weekend workshops. The hay bale ritual is powerful in its simplicity. Men are given permission to rage and fully self-express. I have seen men take whacks at god, their wives, their mothers, their fathers, their girl friends, that childhood bully, and at themselves. I have seen men in the depths of fear, take that long walk to the stick, and let it all go. It is liberating to see such courage. It is inspiring to see men take full responsibility for their fear and rage. It is enlightening to see and begin to understand the dynamics of our own fear and rage.

Two incidents stand out amongst the many hay bale rituals I have seen. The first took place in Santa Rosa, California. During our morning circle, in which we introduce a topic and each man is required to speak as open heartedly as possible, one man shared a gut-wrenching story about how his father has sexually abused him. Tears rolled down his eyes as he told his story for the first time to another human being. This often happens. Men, in a safe and confidential environment, inspired by the vulnerable sharing of others, often release painful experiences for the first time. No one who heard his story remained unscathed.

As this man approached the hay bale, we all knew that the target of his rage had to be his abusive father. He grabbed the stick, and placed the end of it on the hay bale. I had never seen this before. Crying profusely, he was literally unable to lift the stick up and take a whack. I cannot begin to imagine how conflicted he must have felt. As boys, our dad was our hero. However in his case, his dad was also the devil.

After a few minutes, as the leader, I instinctively took action. I asked him if I could take a few whacks to get him started. I was definitely feeling the rage towards his dad, especially seeing the devastating impact on his now paralyzed son, so this all happened very naturally. I began whacking the hay bale, swearing up and down about how horrible he (the dad) was to betray such a sacred covenant as father and son. I was so enraged that I began gouging the stick into the hay bale, as if I was stabbing the abusive father with a lance. Suddenly, the stick bounced back and hit me in the face, putting a nasty gash above my right eye. Blood flowed. Everyone looked in terror, concerned I may have lost an eye. I told everyone I was ok and headed off to the bathroom. But before I did, I said to the man, “Kill that fucker. Do it and free yourself!” I understand he was able to begin whacking the hay bale and the healing had begun. He was a man finally becoming free from the grip of horrible events from his past.

The second incident took place in Sebastopol, California. We had one participant who was very reserved and quiet. He was the last of the group to go. Everyone else had taken their whacks in the first round. We all looked at him. He expressed that he felt he did not have the same kind of rage living in him. He shared that in his family, he was never allowed to fully express himself. Then one of the participants spoke directly to him: “What if this is your last chance on earth to get this shit out of yourself?” That seemed to light a fuse, and he proceeded to take his whacks. Afterwards, he too was a man transformed. You could see it in his face, and in the way he confidently walked around and interacted with us all.

Do I hate god? Do I hate my ex girlfriend? Do men hate their wives? Do men really want to inflict physical harm to any of these people? No, of course not. However, we do often have conflicted feelings. The hay bale process is a powerful technique to release painful memories, and allow more energy for love and appreciation. I know when I carry around pain and hurt feelings; it is hard for me to be present with another person. These experiences I have shared are a safe and very effective way to purge those feelings. I would liken it to taking your car in for a tune up. Over time gunk builds up, and it is good to get a regular cleaning. Otherwise, these feelings may be expressed in far more harmful and often violent ways.

My two-year stint with Stuart Wilde, in Australia, in America, in England, and in Ireland was a time of profound learning and personal transformation. You could not hang out with Stuart and not be changed. Stuart was a tough teacher. Many of the lessons he shared with me had a very hard edge. He exposed many levels of what he called my dark side, those qualities like competitiveness, female objectification, and dishonesty that I had never had to the courage to look at and claim as my own. It was a hell of a ride. And it all began in earnest the moment I picked up that big stick and started whacking away at my own painful memories that early December morning in Milton, Australia.

The article originally appeared on the Good Men Project Website.

5 Favorite Books that Influenced Me as a Man

by Jay Cradeur | Sep 11, 2015 | Uncategorized

Author Jay Cradeur shares how Ayn Rand, Carlos Castaneda, and the mystic poet Rumi influenced his masculinity.

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Exuberance is defined as being full of energy, of being ebullient, of growing profusely. Feeling this way is a tell tale sign that I am on a path toward greater freedom and knowledge. I have often felt exuberance while reading a book. I remember reading Carlos Castaneda’s The Teachings of Don Juan and feeling so full of energy, life, and expectancy. I was exuberant as I realized I had discovered wisdom that spoke to me, and inspired me, and in some degree, woke me up. Over my lifetime, I have had hundreds of such revelatory, exuberant reading experiences. However as I look back, there are five that have stood the test of time, and continue to speak to me and guide me on my masculine path.

The Magic of Thinking Big by David Schwartz

During the summer of 1979, I took a job selling books door to door in upstate New York. I had just completed my sophomore year at UC Berkeley. The owner of the Southwestern Book Company had given a very persuasive presentation just off campus, and I said Yes to the bold adventure. After driving across the country with three other collegiate dare devils for one week of training in Nashville, Tennessee, we headed to the Finger Lakes region hamlet of Seneca Falls, New York, our new home for the summer.

During our training, we were handed two books, The Greatest Salesman In The World by Og Mandino, and The Magic of Thinking Big by David Schwartz. Being lonely and quite isolated in upstate New York, I found solace in my books. The Magic of Thinking Big began my masculine search into the capacity and power of my mind. This book was the first book in a long line of personal development books and cassette tapes, cds and videos, and now podcasts and MP3s. The Magic of Thinking Big was the first book to express the concept that thoughts become things. This book initiated me into the world of visualization as a tool for creating my life that way I want. It was the first book to stir my inner masculine magician.

“Look at things not as they are, but as they can be. Visualization adds value to everything. A big thinker always visualizes what can be done in the future. He isn’t stuck with the present”

This book also taught me how to deal with fear. At an early age, I learned that only action diffused fear. At that time in my life, I had applied and been denied acceptance to the Business Administration major at Cal. With my door-to-door experience and newfound knowledge from the summer, I committed to persevere and apply again. I did, and I did again, and I was accepted on my third attempt.

“Action cures fear.”

The Teachings of Don Juan, A Yaqui Way of Knowledge by Carlos Castaneda

In 1985, I read my first Don Juan book. I can remember it like it was yesterday. This was the first book that spoke to me in such a way that I could not think about anything else. There were so many concepts, and ideas, and truths presented in this first of the Carlos Castaneda series of books. The first concept I related to was the idea that I was arrogant and felt superior over those that had less than me, and I had absolutely no right to be so. I found humility in this book, as does Carlos, the student, who makes judgments about a few poor Mexican boys.

“Do you feel sorry for them?” Don Juan exclaimed in a questioning tone.
“I certainly do,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because I am concerned with the well-being of my fellow man. Those are children and their world is ugly and cheap.”
“Wait wait. How can you say their world is ugly and cheap?” Don Juan said mocking my statement. “You think you are better off, don’t you?”
……
I argued my point for a while longer and then Don Juan asked me bluntly. “Didn’t you once tell me that in your opinion man’s greatest accomplishment was to become a man of knowledge?”
….
“Do you think that your very rich world would ever help you to become a man of knowledge?”, Don Juan asked with slight sarcasm.
….
“No!” I said emphatically.
“Then how could you feel sorry for those children?” he said seriously. “Any of them could become a man of knowledge. All of the men of knowledge I know were kids like those you saw eating leftovers and licking the tables.”

It was through this book that I also developed my appreciation and respect for the impact of death on my life. I began to see death as a great leveler and teacher. As a man, I found a larger peaceful center, a wider place that I could call home. I became more comfortable in my own skin once I accepted the inevitability of my own death. I found myself less concerned with the superficial aspects of my life. The inevitability of death grounded me. Don Juan spoke of this is some detail:

“… How can anyone feel so important when we know that death is stalking us?”

“… The thing to do when you are impatient is to turn to your left and ask advice from your death. An immense amount of pettiness is dropped if your death makes a gesture to you, or if you catch a glimpse of it, or if you just have the feeling that your companion is there watching you.”

“Without the awareness of death everything is ordinary, trivial. It is only because death is stalking us that the world is an unfathomable mystery.”

“You have little time and no time for crap. A wonderful state! The best of us always comes out when we are against the wall, when we feel the sword dangling overhead. … I wouldn’t have it any other way.”.

Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand

In 1989, my life was in chaos. I was raised a Catholic, however I discovered I no longer believed anything I had been taught. I married early, had 2 children, and was miserable and depressed. I found solace in the arms of another woman, and soon divorced. My work life was also in transition. I was selling television time for a firm in San Francisco. I was on a fixed salary, and soon realized that no matter how well I did my job, I would earn the same as everyone else with my position. Then on the advice of a senior co-worker, I read Atlas Shrugged.

It is a long book, and I consumed it within a few days. Never had I felt so validated as a producer rather than a taker. I was a guy who got things done. I am wired to produce results. Consequently, I began to obtain some clarity around my work life. If I was going to be fairly compensated for my results, I would need to take on a commission sales job. In January of 1990, I began a 100% commission sales position selling advertising on shopping carts inside of grocery stores, and made more money in my first year than I had ever made before. The words of Ayn Rand provided the nudge I needed.

Atlas Shrugged also showed me the importance of personal responsibility in everything I did. I still remember a scene in which John Galt makes an impeccable meal of scrambled eggs. This book also reinforced the importance of not settling for mediocrity and going for my dreams. And of course, as the title suggests, I learned there are times when I need to back down, reassess and walk away. I developed the ability to shrug.

“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours.”

“If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders – What would you tell him?”

I…don’t know. What…could he do? What would you tell him?”

To shrug.”

As a result of my affair and the phenomenal sex I was experiencing for the first time in my life, I began to think about relationships, women, and my preferences. What did I like in a woman and what did I dislike in a woman? This is a question all men need to ask themselves. Up to this point in my life, I never thought about it. Atlas Shrugged has several relationships of note, and each one gave me a bit of insight into the masculine feminine dynamics. As I read the following excerpt some 30 years ago, the failure of my divorce, and the desire for a new woman began to make some sense to me. I did not feel like a failure in the face of these words.

“A man’s sexual choice is the result and the sum of his fundamental convictions…. He will always be attracted to the woman who reflects his deepest vision of himself, the woman whose surrender permits him to experience a sense of self-esteem. The man who is proudly certain of his own value, will want the highest type of woman he can find, the woman he admires, the strongest, the hardest to conquer–because only the possession of a heroine will give him the sense of an achievement.”

The Pocket Rumi Reader edited by Kabir Helminski

In 1995, I stumbled across this little book, which still travels with me everywhere I go. The mystic poet Rumi speaks to my masculine heart. This is a book I can open to any page, read the poem and feel a wave of beauty and delight wash over me. When I first read the poem, To Clutch At Madness, I knew I had read the words of a Master:

Conventional opinion is the ruin of our souls,
Something borrowed which we mistake as our
own.
Ignorance is better than this; clutch at madness
instead.
Always run from what seems to benefit your self:
Sip the poison and spill the water of life.
Revile those who flatter you;
Lend both interest and principal to the poor.
Let security go and be at home amid dangers.
Leave your good name behind
and accept disgrace.
I have lived with cautious thinking;
Now I’ll make myself mad.

After reading this, I realized I had diverted off a traditional path of the masculine. Fame and fortune were definitely not my end game. Inner wisdom and knowledge have been and continue to be my senior goals in life. Carlos Castaneda pushed any ideals about money leading to happiness out of my head. Rumi here says the same thing, albeit far more poetically. But Rumi goes farther, inviting the reader to embrace insecurity and go a bit mad. This raises a seminal masculine question, how far does one go to seek redemption and reclaim his soul? If you go this route, as Rumi suggest, you will be alone like a salmon swimming upstream.

Rumi also spoke to me about women, and once again, I divert from the standard masculine path. In all my work with men, I still find that, in general, and very subtlety, men do not take women seriously. Most men, in general, do not fully appreciate and honor the power and wisdom of the feminine. Having worked closely with strong and wise women over the last decade in the production of weekend men’s events, I have seen the incredible energy of the feminine. I stand in awe, as does Rumi in his poem Woman Is A Ray of God:

“Woman prevails over the wise and intelligent;
while the ignorant dominate over her.”

They lack tenderness and affection
because their animality prevails.

Love and gentleness are human qualities;
aggressiveness and lust are bestial.

Woman is a ray of God.
She is not that earthly beloved.
You could say;
she is creative, not created.

Spiritual Enlightenment, The Damnedest Thing by Jed McKenna

In 2004, I was living in a room in my friend’s home in Oakland, California. While my financial situation was challenging, my inner world was bursting forth. I was leading a weekly men’s group. I was attending a weekly Native American sweat lodge ritual. I was organizing and leading weekend men’s events. I was writing and posting on my blog. I was making an impact. I was heading toward something, compelled to keep moving forward, although unsure how it would all turn out. Then I read Jed McKenna’s first book in his epic trilogy. My roommate suggested I read it. I started at 6 PM and finished at 6AM the following morning. I don’t think I have ever felt such simpatico with an author. My experiences began to have a context. I now knew where I was going. The nebulous topic of enlightenment now became tangible and obtainable. Here with Jed McKenna I had found a map and a guide.

“Enlightenment isn’t when you go there; it’s when there comes here.”

“All fear is ultimately fear of no-self. “And what is enlightenment,” I ask Sarah, “but a swan dive into the abyss of no-self?”

This book, as much as any other, also reinforced the importance of writing in my life. I was not much of a writer in school. I showed flairs of competency at university. It wasn’t until I started blogging about my journey and the journey of men that I found my voice. However, Jed McKenna’s book also pointed out the profound impact writing had on my personal and spiritual development. No wonder all my heroes are writers!

“writing it down on paper or on a computer where you can see it is because the brain, unlikely as it may sound, is no place for serious thinking. Any time you have serious thinking to do, the first step is to get the whole shootin’ match out of your head and set it up someplace where you can walk around it and see it from all sides. Attack, switch sides and counter-attack. You can’t do that while it’s still in your head. Writing it out allows you to act as your own teacher, your own critic, your own opponent. By externalizing your thoughts, you can become your own guru; judging yourself, giving feedback, providing a more objective and elevated perspective.”

What a ride that was! These are the seminal books that influenced me not just as a man, but also as a spiritual seeker bent on enlightenment. I found it difficult to narrow this list to just five books. Honorable mentions go to Walden by Henry David Thoreau, Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, Whispering Winds of Change by Stuart Wilde, The Book of Secrets by Osho, and Siddhartha by Herman Hesse. I have great respect for anyone that looks at a blank piece of paper, and then proceeds to create a book. It may be a compulsion. It may be a job. It may be therapy. Whatever it is, it takes courage to speak your truth and share it with the world. How fortunate we are today when we can think of any one of millions of books in print and within minutes, read that very book on our phone, tablet or computer. It’s a great time to be alive.

The article originally appeared on the Good Men Project Website.

What Porn Magazines at Boy’s Eye Level Says About Today’s Men

by Jay Cradeur | Sep 9, 2015 | Uncategorized

Author Jay Cradeur shares  why our culture still breeds female objectification and mysogyny.  Look in the mirror.

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I recently saw this image online. Big tits and how powered guns.  The breakfast of champions!   Is it just me that finds this somewhat disturbing that all of this voluptuousness is at young boy’s and young girl’s eye level in a convenience store? Can’t we do better?  I now wonder how many times I passed such a display as a young boy, and what impact did all those viewings have on me?  How could I not see women as an object for my pleasure?  Let the mysogyny begin.  Before we harangue the storeowner, we had better take a good hard look in the mirror. If  adult men didn’t buy these magazines, the storeowner would not put them out for display. It would not make business sense. When I look in the mirror, I have to ask myself, what is lacking in me that I think I can find love with porn and a smoking gun?

Truth be told, I may not find love in those magazines, but I can find sex and power!   That is two out of the three three pillars of the masculine holy trinity. Only money is missing. The porn magazine gives me sex (and power over women), and the gun magazine gives me power.   As I look at what might be lacking in me, I have to acknowledge I have a dark desire to dominate.   Masturbating to a magazine picture gives me the opportunity to dominate over any of the women on the page. Thinking about holding an AK-47 in my hands gives me the opportunity to feel dominant over anyone who walks in my path.   Why do I feel the need to dominate?

As I keep unpeeling the onion I see deeper and deeper levels of my own dark side issues. This is the stuff nary a man wants to admit to and accept as his own. However it is essential to our growth and integration.  Let’s continue.  Domination unchecked by a healthy conscience leads to tyranny and horror.   History bears this out.  We must work to tame our inner tyrant.  Unless we do, magazines like Club and Penthouse will continue to thrive and send a pernicious message to our youth.  Even worse, domestic violence and rape will continue to be a plague on our society.  It is time to look deep within each of our souls and ask, Why? Why do I do the things I do?  What is driving me?  Why would I buy the porn magazine? What gaping hole in my soul does it fill?

In my experience of diving deep into my dark side, the core feeling always and absolutely appears as self-loathing.  As Rumi said, the elixir is in the poison.  The elixir is self love.  Somewhere during my youth, someone told me I was a piece of shit and I believed it. This is true of all the men I have worked with over the past 15 years.  We brothers are hard on ourselves!  Self love is one of the toughest feelings for a man to breath to life.  When I break it down, and understand how the self-loathing came into existence, then I can begin to heal.   When I don’t love myself, I find destructive activities to validate my feelings. I do things I don’t want to share with anyone.  I hide. I am embarrassed.  I play in the dark.

If I know I will feel shame for my actions, then I am better off walking away. Instead of jerking off to porn, can you and I close our eyes and ask, what is it that I think I am getting out of this? And more importantly, can I get what I am looking for without the porn?   Can I feed my soul by being quiet and contemplative and looking deep within my self? This requires an entirely new level of strength and discipline and surrender.  This is the path of the good men.  This is the path of Osho’s new man.  Vulnerability is the new black. Live uncomfortably at your edge. Do the unthinkable and walk away.   Say No to the distraction and stay home with yourself.  Be vulnerable. Let’s help the storeowner make the right decision by reducing his magazine sales. Let’s protect our youth and break the cycle of female objectification and mysogyny. I hope you accept my invitation next time you want to buy the MILF magazine.  I know you can.

The article originally appeared on the Good Men Project Website.