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In this week's issue of Banter M:

My Chemical Romance - Chez Pazienza marks the 10th anniversary of the surgery that removed a tumor the size of a pinball from his head with a highly revealing account of what life is like now -- particularly after turning to testosterone boosters and discovering his inner sex fiend, who, as Chez writes "Wants to f*ck. All the time".

Celebrating More Than Celebrity - Jamie Frevele uncovers an interesting trait in both Prince and Beyonce that is likely responsible for their success as artists. If we celebrated more than their celebrity, could we potentially unleash our own artistic greatness into the ether?

Zen and the 2016 Election - Ben Cohen argues that rather than succumbing to petty tribalism and never ending conflict, the American presidential election as the perfect test of patience and a unique opportunity to develop a higher state of consciousness. 

Excerpt from "My Chemical Romance":


My Chemical Romance

I want to fuck. Right now. This is a problem.

Technically, it shouldn't be a problem that I want sex, given that I'm a 46-year-old man and not, say, a 76-year-old man. Despite my best efforts and some of the most powerful recreational chemicals created by man or nature, I'm not exactly in the ground just yet. So with that in mind, there's nothing wrong with still having a healthy appreciation for that unique thrill of being inside someone, making her feel good, making myself feel good. Sex is one of those profound experiences that not only reminds you that you're alive no matter your age, but, if you're older, has the ability to put you in touch on a primal level with the person you were in your that glorious nascence of your experience. If you can vanish into that rare headspace where you completely let go and allow the passion and bliss to just wash over you, the feeling is nothing short of miraculous. It's spiritual, lovely, so abundantly human.

But that's not what I'm talking about here. What I'm referring to -- what I want with every fiber of my being more and more these days -- is something else entirely. It goes beyond the flowery language or the clear-headed, rational explanation of what sex is and what it means. No, I want to fuck. I don't want to drift away on shit. I want to have the kind of sex where it feels like your very soul is shooting out of you when you come. I want insane. I want dangerous. I want the kind of fucking I remember from my early 20s. And here's why: Because chemically, I am in my early 20s. From a biological standpoint, I may as well be 22 all over again -- and this is only a recent development in my life. For years I wasn't simply my advancing age; I was in fact much, much older than that. Most men in their 40s see their vitality begin to slip away -- noticeably so. But I had something else working against me that a lot of men didn't. And it had effectively closed the door on who I was: who I used to be and even who I was meant to develop into in middle-age.

Put simply, I wasn't who I was supposed to be in my 40s. Until a single shot changed all of that.

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