Having never attempted masturbation myself, this diatribe will of course sound like an outsider's opinion, and of course that's exactly what it is.
We hear everything from 'it will sap your energy' to 'just be yourself, and fly on the wings of freedom.' So here is my opinion.
The first prerequisite is to have a sense of humor about it. I mean, give me a break: we're monkeys in a friggin' zoo created by the capitalists who destroyed what was once the source of a man's discipline, strength, and entertainment: the extended family farm. Ever try to sneak off for a wank with sixteen aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents watching your every move and your own father, for chrissake, memorizing Bible passages in his single daily hour of 'spare time'? Now that the former motivation for auto-chastity, the extended family farm or business, has been thoroughly violated and sent to the hills in shame, and the entertainment business that was once the natural monopoly of street urchins has been first taken over by corporations and then by the worldwide web and its staunchest advocate, the free porn branch of the National Security Agency... Now that marijuana is becoming more socially acceptable by the day and most geeky office boys are proud to be alcoholics and the dumbing-down of the World's Greatest Country--starting with putting its presidency on display for entertainment purposes--is practically a religion to replace the three fairly equivalent and competing branches of the One-God religion which is so brittle in its dotage that even believers don't believe in it anymore...
What was I gonna say? Something about how we're being driven straight out of our straightjackets by... by... well I forgot.
Anyway, if you don't have a sense of humor about it--and you know what it is--you're screwed. That's first.
And I'm here to tell you, the non-spectator sport of all time is being foisted on us by the spies who love us, our protectors: the spook agencies of the developed countries, i.e. the goons of the corporatocracy who filch from us our own fears and other insecurities and then sell them back to us with interest. We the people accepted computerization, because it made us magically capable, but they the Corporation infiltrate the internet with viruses so they can sell us anti-virus software to slow us down and make us less productive. I mean, unless you own a supercomputer, good luck getting your browser and your virus software to both work at the same time. And getting back to the point, did you ever stop to ask yourself what is so profitable about giving porn away for free on the internet? It's simple. In spite of the fact that no one in their right mind would use a credit card with one's name on it to pay for something that is free... I mean, give me a break... these porn sites thrive on advertising dollars, they are obviously getting rich, and who is buying up these ads? Shell corporations set up by the spook agencies whose job is to destabilize forward momentum of the population! Who else would pay for something that no one needs? There is so much free porn available--so I hear--that only a few compleat idiots would ever cough up an identity off of a credit card, not to mention the related expenditure, to register himself with the NSA as a bona-fide wanker. It's bad enough that Google and its All-Seeing Eye, YouTube, and its social branch, Facebook, are linked at the hip with these three-letter-word acronymical criminal societies of officially sanctioned gangsters who keep their activities secret from us for our own good.
Does anyone really believe that your friendly local hacker, that grossly overweight pizza-popping zitmonger with no friends, actually sits in his mother's attic plotting the overthrow of major corporations, key government agencies, and you personally--by designing computer viruses and then filtering them down to your little home PC... just because he can? Hell's bell's, most fellas capable of coding a line or two do it on the job and wouldn't want to come home and do it some more; it's their job for chrissake! And those dudes in Mom's attic are just wankers, obviously. If anyone is creating viruses to threaten us with, it's because they are being paid to, and who could pay for this sort of thing, and who would want to, but those selfsame spooks whose big thrill in life is to topple anything in the human machine that appears to pose a threat to the One Power Structure that looms over us all protecting us from what we'd do to ourselves if we possessed any of the basic freedoms like growing onions in our own front yard? Research it! The source of these viruses is the insecurity state itself! They are invested in keeping us afraid.
So it's absolutely no wonder, in a world where growing food no longer makes any sense and most humans are so deeply addicted to sugar and other hard drugs like online porn, that self-control is no longer valued.
And there's a reason for that. And it's simple.
You see, there is only so much intelligence in the world. That's right, when the earth was created, each species was allotted X amount of smarts to be distributed amongst its entire membership. The allotment given to the human race was big, to be sure, but in time, boys and girls, the human race outgrew that allotment by a good large measure. Due to the march of progress which has substantially lengthened life expectancy and cut infant mortality down to a fraction of what one might expect from any other animal species that happened to be living off of white powders and thus totally psychotic, the allotment X of human intelligence has now grown so small per unit human that it's a miracle that any geniuses still roam the face of the earth at all.
And yet, there are still those few who insist on clawing their way to the top of the intelligence heap, who prefer to suffer the vicissitudes of friendlessness in order to live in a world of their own making where thinking for oneself is allowed, even encouraged, by that one person who really matters, when it all comes down to it... that person being, of course, oneself.
But even this lone voice in the wilderness, in between trying to urge his less-smarts-endowed fellow sub-humans out of the prison of their ignorance, is faced squarely in these modern days with the most powerful weapon the corporatocracy has ever found for weakening us, in its thousand-year reign: free internet porn.
For it's true, no matter what anyone would like to believe during the act itself of putting a match up to some heavenly hash or taking the first few strokes of an hours-long wank, that intelligence is trumped by pleasure anytime. With few exceptions--for example when we choose to damn well be exceptional--we are powerless over our addictions. And no matter what else might be true that could rightly encourage us to have patience with ourselves and keep a sense of humor about it, giving in to anything that has power over us makes us feel the feelings associated with being weak and stupid.
I did not say that wanking was wrong, bad, sinful, or in itself stupid or disgusting. These are emotional reactions learned before we knew what learning was, back when empty moralistic aphorisms were being shoved down our throats in between sugar-laced meals and corporate cartoon snacks and TV shows designed to divest us of the ability to use our time and talents productively. But in order to literally preach asceticism, I'd have to be good at it, and while I can say it sometimes seems like it would be an interesting thing to experience, I am a product of the confusing times we live in, and I have never experienced true strength of character, which becomes focused in certain more powerful individuals as the ability to say no to effortless pleasure. We just have to accept our limitations and keep moving, or life will trample us without regard for the way that a good trampling makes us hurt. Because life doesn't care. Life is just an amoral file. We are here to experience. Experience what?
Well, contrary to what you'd guess by observing mass behavior patterns, no one can tell us what to experience.
Unless we let them.
And letting someone else tell us what to experience is what's wrong with addiction. Addiction is all about letting some airy-fairy promise of nothing lie to us and waste our energy. Contrary to wishful thinking, repeating a good thing isn't a good thing, for the simple reason that nothing beats the first time, so what's so complicated about giving something up for no other reason than the fact that it consumes you? So if you've tried heroin once, why isn't that enough? Millions of junkies throughout time, many of them people who once had immense potential, testify to the fact that common sense don't necessary beat off the devil when a person is dead set on mentally, emotionally, spiritually, chemically or physically beating off himself. So we aren't gonna make any rules here, because they would be ignored by the individual bent on venting steam or obtaining a temporary sense of release, and there are worse hard drugs out there than porn. As for what makes porn a hard drug, just research 'no-fap' and learn the facts in five minutes. Due to a neurotransmitter called dopamine, porn is as addictive as morphine. I'd hate to think of the consequences if it came with physical withdrawal symptoms like other hard drugs do.
I have a friend who is addicted to porn, his name is Chimp. My friend Chimp agreed to be interviewed since I have no personal experience with this topic and I don't really know what I'm talking about. So here is my interview with Chimp.
WH Early: Hi Chimp.
Chimp: I wish you'd stop calling me that.
WHE: Well all right then, let's just use your real name--
Chimp: No! Not that... just call me Chimp.
WHE: Then Chimp it is. Now, Chimp, what's it really like, in your heart of hearts, to be a bona fide jerk-off artist with nothin' better to do than--
Chimp: Whoa, I don't think I'm gonna answer any questions like that.
WHE: Well if you don't like questions, why don't you just deliver your own little lecture and just say anything you want.
Chimp: OK. Here goes. (Clears throat.) Hmm. Well.
WHE: Go on ahead, I won't even listen.
Chimp: OK. Let's see. It all started...
WHE: We know how it starts, Chimp, can we just fast forward to the climactic ending?
Chimp: OK. Take last night for example. See, I used to be addicted to all kinds of things, but since my hair started turning white, I'm finding it easier and easier to give things up, one at a time, slowly. Even though I'm from the super-indulgent, spoiled, prissy-ass, 'Gotta-Be-Me-So-Gimme-My-Rights' generation, after battling many addictions my whole life, I now only drink alcohol four times a month. I haven't smoked pot more than three times in nearly fifteen years. I haven't touched tobacco once in fifteen years. Of course I gave up television when I was 13, but then along came video tapes and DVDs...
WHE: And this stuff is all related, right, because addiction is addiction, it all touches off the same pleasure center.
Chimp: That's right, Whirly, you hit the nail on the head. We could be talking about any habit, but we chose this one.
WHE: Well we needed something you could speak about with finely-tuned expertise.
Chimp: Thanks, Whirly, for your generous insinuations. Now let me get on with my lecture. (Clears throat.) It's really very simple. Your readers should know that I am one of Whirly's students here at Unworlding University, besides being his oldest friend. And not getting any younger, either. Well, to make a long story short, this unworlding thing boils down to what happens to be on your mind. And lacking the intention to do anything about what that happens to be, we are generally not in control of the mind's content. They don't call it 'the monkey mind' for no reason.
Whirly teaches that those of us who survived the illegalization of LSD in 1967 went on to seek other avenues by which we might hope to demolish the endlessly annoying patter of the monkey mind. By about 1970 or so, the abolition of LSD had forced the re-emergence into pop culture of a number of poor substitutes to E-Z enlightenment, as well as one substitute which was right on. The latter being unworlding and a new view of reality, of course, as represented in those early days with books published by Robert Monroe, Jane Roberts and Carlos Castaneda. The poor substitutes included the psychobabble path which was split into the pragmatic side with NeuroLinguistic Programming as well as the emotional side with Primal Therapy. All this stuff popped up around 1970 and all had major influence on what was to become of the rest of that decade. Then Richard Nixon, of all people, took over the peace movement by personally ending the Vietnam War, thereby sending the new age world into a shock which we never really recovered from, most of us. In fact, this comatose condition eventually gave birth to the yuppie movement, which was kind of a cross between a bowel movement and... well, never mind.
Of course by the mid-1980s there was no longer any hope for modern human society. The dumbing-down process was well underway, as anyone could tell by listening to the pop music of the day. Not that today's commercialized excuse for music isn't a lot worse...
WHE: Is it possible that you're not quite getting on with, you know, the topic at hand...
Chimp: Sorry, Whirly, I'll try to stick to the point. (Clears throat.) The monkey mind is just the conscious mind, or the 2-3-4 mind as we call it here at Unworlding University. This is what happens when a waveform such as us has certain lower harmonics hogging all the energy available to that waveform.
WHE: This is a simple thing, Chimp, I think people are looking for a simple answer. Does it, or does it not, behoove one to give up spanking the monkey in order to get unworlded. If not, why not? Because every traditional teaching down through the ages including Carlos Castaneda was pretty sure that jerking off was akin to spiritual suicide.
Chimp: I was getting to that. OK. Well, you see, shortly after I first re-met-up with my old friend Whirly here and joined up with Unworlding University, I had a spontaneous religious experience, that being my first viewing of a no-fap video on YouTube, which kinda made me cry and stuff, it was so profound to gaze upon some shirtless dweeb sitting in his apartment whinging on about no longer being concerned with what to do with the tissue afterwards and all the embarrassing mechanics of the situation itself, but what really got to me was that, right after I had this intense experience of emotionally giving it up, due to a kind of mini-religious catharsis, I was doing my first daytime unworlding practices right after that, and a fat little girl, not pretty, about five years old, came to me in a vision and bowed to me. Just plain bowed to me, as if in gratitude for something.
WHE: A vision?
Chimp: Yeah, I had a non-lucid OBE when I went to sleep for six seconds, and this ugly, square little girl just bowed to me, that's all. I realized my dream bodies were watching me, because this little girl was obviously me thanking myself for my recent decision, and by golly, due in part to what was obviously a total lack of privacy, with my dream bodies suddenly awake and watching me all the time, I was able to maintain abstinence for over three months. During this time I got hornier and hornier on one hand, while on the other hand I was determined to ignore the impulse to whack off. This was surprisingly easy and I actually felt like a man again instead of Wee Willy Wanker wiping his snot on his sleeve. It was a good feeling, and I'm sure it energized me and partly as a result of being energized and being in a better and better mood, I had my first two conscious unworlding exits and they were nice long experiences, unlike the tiny little lucid dreams I've been having since... since...
WHE: Go ahead, Chimp, out with it.
Chimp: Well, I fell off the wagon. What happened was, my wife had found me so much more attractive when I wasn't whipping the noodle all the time that she practically raped me one afternoon, and after that, the primary pleasure center of my whole being got mentally moved from my unworlding practice back to my dick after that long and productive abstinence, and I couldn't stop trying to get another bite of that E-Z pleasure. I mean, the orgasm I had when having real sex with my actual wife after not having had a single orgasm for over three months was ab-so-fucking-lute-ly in-fucking-cre-di-bull.
WHE: Your fat, crabby, ungrateful, middle-aged wife?
Chimp: Yeah, I mean if you don't jack off, you can get off perfectly fine with anyone, it no longer matters what women are supposed to 'look like' according to Playboy standards...
WHE: That's a magazine we used to look at, before porn was free.
Chimp: Thanks, Whirly, some folks might not be cognizant of the fine points of our long history in these matters. Anyway, I fought it and fought it, but let me back up a little. When I first quit, the first thing I noticed, and I noticed it maybe a hundred or more times a day, was that the content of my mind was basically tits and ass, tits and ass, and more tits and ass. Which I wasn't aware of till I quit.
WHE: We're really just chimpanzees in people suits, aren't we, Chimp.
Chimp: You might say that. Anyway, I noticed that once I gave up fapping, it was a good three days before my mind felt free of these constant images. Then after I started having these spontaneous unworldings due to being in such a good mood all the time and feeling energetic and happy, I fell off the wagon, people started hitting me--
Chimp: This is a true story, Whirly, not that it's all necessarily related to fapping.
WHE: Well let's try and stick with the basics, shall we?
Chimp: OK. Point being, ever since I got lucky and quit easily for over three months, which was by far a lifetime record, and then fell off the wagon, it has resembled the same way I gradually gave up pot and alcohol over a period of years: kinda like pulling teeth. Then they grow back and you have to pull them again. I make a little progress, I backslide. Progress, backslide. Two steps forward and one step back. Two steps forward and three steps back. But always making a little net progress, if you step back to get the bigger picture--
WHE: The wider perspective is always a big part of it.
Chimp: Right you are, Whirly. There is always hope to be found, but we can't rely on the kind of beginner's luck or naive novitiate's enthusiasm that gave me that great three-month period of abstinence, which changed my life by freeing up the home base of my energy center so I could have my first conscious unworldings.
Now let me fast forward to just yesterday. This week, I admit with a red face, I've been off the wagon, what with my wife going to town a lot and leaving me home alone with the computer. What impressed me yesterday... Hang on, I left something out. Back when I'd fallen off the wagon the first time, after my first unworldings had been kind of really OBE-like and considerably longer, my ensuing experiences seemed more like quickie lucid dreams and I had a lot less control of them, and they were very short. But even before these lucid dreams started, after the first initial OBEs, what was really weird was, I had this long dry spell where I couldn't get unworlded and at that point I hadn't actually had a lucid dream in years, well maybe one or two, but nothing that I could recall at the time, and then one day I said, to heck with it, and I jerked off twice in one day and that night I had a lucid dream, the first one in forever.
WHE: Does that mean we should all be jerking off twice a day?
Chimp: No, it means we shouldn't be uptight and make rules and get emotional and feel sorry for ourselves for being stuck in the human world. The straight-and-narrow is not the human path, it only works for those who can actually function in an ascetic lifestyle, which most people could never do. We have to have patience and recognize our human condition and keep some levelness-of-head when we fail at certain things. The magical mindset that actually gets us unworlded can't be forced, and that's the lesson of this particular episode where I had my first lucid dream in a long time after, you know, letting myself be bad or whatever. But all in all, generally we have to consider what it is we're putting into our minds and look at what it is we're therefore gonna get out. Context has a lot to do with it, there are no hard and fast rules of conduct. Except one. No matter what else happens, control the emotions you have about it. Nothing is worth ruining an unworlding practice over. If you accidentally cut off your finger, you don't wanna turn right around and cut off your whole hand just to get even with yourself for being a dumbfuck. You wanna forget about it immediately and keep moving in a net forward direction.
Now, getting back to yesterday. I've recently re-energized my practice quite a bit, picking up the dream journal again after trying to get by without it, and doing daytime practices more often, getting pumped up to start meditating again, stuff like that. And in general, it's working, but this fapping thing keeps taking its toll. And here is what I've been leading up to. Because of a nightly practice of Vac-U-Move right before bedtime, I had three non-lucid OBEs in quick succession last night, before I fell asleep for the night. And in only one of these three non-lucid OBEs, I was not playing with myself.
WHE: And the third?
Chimp: I can't even remember.
WHE: We should all let that sink in.
Chimp: That's about all I have to say. I'm going back on the wagon. In fact, I think I can feel my dream bodies watching me right now.
WHE: Thanks for your perspective, old buddy.
Chimp: No problem, Whirly.