THE MIGHTY MASTURBATION MANIFESTO: THE ORIGINAL BIRTH CONTROL

Mature women of Earth!, I come in peace. NEWSFLASH: Johnny Neptune spontaneously tsunamis the next great Women's Revolution, the "5th dimensional wave," with the merciful downloading of The Mighty Masturbation Manifesto.

Listen up, girlfriends, and menfolk as well, for I, Commander Neptune, Interplanetary Sex Cat, have got something to say. Although in this incarnation I find myself parked within the body of a man, what I concern myself with seeks right to the heart and core of vital women's issues. Honored and adored Amazonas, you have a huge boyfriend on the outside who eagerly desires membership into "The Club." Smile, my freedom loving friends, because after you buy what I'm selling, that dreary and damned albatross-cross called BIRTH CONTROL will never cloudy-foul your sunshiny days, ever again. History, herstory, her' she goes ...

Here is a granite slab of truth upon which our born can firmly stand: The hand that spanks the monkey ... is the hand that: rocks the world.

Uh, of  course, uh, yeah, yeah... I don't masturbate ... and certainly YOU "would never commit such a sick and despicable act." Uh-huh, uh-HUH! So apparently this little jewel and pearl of wisdom must be for the other billion plus, rest of the planet who ... "don't do it" either. But should. And more often.


Children, children, tax not my patience any longer, you "messy doodlers in the nursery of wisdom." Most of you need to grow up about the subject of sex as you are not in 3rd grade anymore, and you should of gradiated out of that just plain and ignorant age of sexual shame and stupidity a long, long time ago. You all, feminines and masculines, need to herk and jerk off more intelligently in order to reduce your risk of reproductive accidents to: zero. Of course, enjoy the flesh, but save your eggs and control your seed for well considered parental adventures only.


Sure, even though you people have a huge buttload of problems down here, still, think about it: If somehow you were able to responsibly control your Earthian human breeding---in as little as 1 or 2 generations---you could actually improve life on your beautiful, though fouled, home planet ride. You could: TURN YOUR SHIT AROUND. Amazing, eh? How simple. How ... I know, I know, I KNOW!!!... IMPOSSIBLE. Maybe. Please, please, please don't make me get out all of those boring-assed but jaw-dropping statistical forecasting charts for your planet's population growth so that I can get you to: wake THE FUCK up. Don't make the "sad and unfortunate things which most likely occur in a less than optimal home life" be your 21st century companions. See the beauty, see the vision of making a conscientious, voluntary life choice. Be a player, not a pawn---take control of your own life. Chart your own course.

Let me repeat: Masturbation will save your world. The right handling of sex prevents a lot of problems. Can't you see, can't you feel the superheated angst vibe warning signs that are thrashing and contorting from off many of your way too young, underprepared, overburdened, totally exhausted, or supremely stressed-out mothers and fathers? Are you deaf, dumb, and blind, man? Can't you hear their silent but still screeching second thoughts? "I should of beat off! I should of beat off! Oh God! ... I should of beat off!"

Take it easy, baby, and heed Johnny's great and wise advice. Do what Johnny does. Do it my way. On one hand I can count all of the women I have ever done. But with the other hand---I've "done" ... thousands. Get it? Do it. Spank it! Be "the Master of your own domain." "Queen of the castle!"


Grow up: first. Live a lot, learn even more. Find out what you are BEFORE---or IF---you procreate. Careless, sloppy, and accident laden sexplay needs to become part of your ancient, distant past. It's OK to wait, WAIT, W... A... I... T... until you're ready, ready, really ready for parenthood. No worries---the seemingly infinite waiting list of unborn, eternal souls can peacefully chill for one brief, tiny cosmic minute more. Why shoot them into an unprepared family ride down here on your sphere? What did they ever do to you? What's the rush? It's YOUR time too. Ink in some ME TIME---into YOUR life. You, here, now---is the future. YOU are the future. Run this kooky, odd one through your noggin: Let Humankind, Animalkind, The Planet, The Plants, The Stars, Civilization, and You-Yourself be your "child." Create with your DREAMS, Dream Queens and Dream Kings, not with just your pussies and dicks.


Oy gevalt, pardon my sweaty extraterrestrial testicles, but YOU have 7 billion munching and crunching souls on your orb, and you are super-uber-light-zipping to what will SOON seem like---7 gizillion. Yep, that is correct, it's time for you to take your foot off of the population pedal, pull over, and take a wee-bitty potty break on your "BE FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLY"  mad drive into HELL. Let me off at the next exit. This rapidly overripening "fruit" will soon, if it hasn't already, rot your peace of mind away. I don't know whether you've noticed this or not, lusty lovers, but you-all are not taking proper care of the people who are already here now---and you want to go out and make more, or risk making more. Now just what the hairy, horny, heartbeats is going on here!?!

Procreation in today's world should be a secondary! priority. Procreation should, now and for a long, long while, be ranked behind a person's freedom, a person's thrill of Earth-discovery, of self-discovery. That's right, Buckos, you need to do a major, ass-kicking overhaul on how you carry out your child creation and your sexual playtime. The two should not be brutally cornfused together. 

Attention. Attention. Do not have sex like a rat. You are not a rat. You have the ability, the reason, the right, the sovereign free will, and, yeah, babe, THE DUTY to procreate NOT 1 SECOND before you are 100% willing and ready. Do not have sex like a roach. You are not a roach. Your fate is firmly in hand. Don't let it get out of hand. It's all in your hands. Roaches don't have hands. Do not have sex like a rabbit. You are not a rabbit. You are a human being. And highly developed human beings of a Great and Grand World embrace their reproductive responsibilities with a thoughtful and NONdumb-bunny-like attitude. Ye freedom may be fleeting with thee fuzzy fornicating.


Do not let brainless passion and "God's" Vaginal Vegas decide YOUR destiny. Is it, in truth, God's will that YOU got horny, which caused YOU to screw, which then---"Oops, it must be God's will!"---out pops YOUR baby, without YOU being fully geared up for taking on the guardianship of another sacred being? Is it ... really? Well, if so, then your "God" must be some sort of a royal, jack a-hole ... or worse.


Of course, each and every child is a gem, and Mas and Pas, Protectors of the House, and, hopefully, Friends of the Home, THANKS FOR SERVING. Your honorable service for your children and your family is absolutely commendable---but PLEASE STOP! That's right, STOP MAKING BABIES!!! Females of Earth, younger and older, DON'T GET PREGNANT. Earthmales, of any age, DON'T GET YOUR PARTNER PREGNANT. "Be fruitful and multiply" applyeth not to YOUR times. STOP IT. STOP IT. STOP IT. THE TIMES---YOUR TIMES!!!---HAVE CHANGED, AND THE WRITING ON THE WALL IS BLARING OUT, LOUD AND CRYSTAL CLEAR: YOU ARE FAST RUNNING OUT OF RESOURCES FOR THOSE WHO ARE HERE NOW! Oh, I'm sorry, did I not get the memo where you all banded together and collectively declared your intention to see just how quickly you can desertify and lay waste to the Earth's entire ecosystem, and, oh yeah, completely destroying yourselves in the process? Tut. Tut. Tsk. Tsk. Tick. Tock. Ding. Dong. Almost, nearly, virtually: out of time. Hands: on twelve. Your careening, consuming culture: unsustainable. Uninhabitable Mamma E? Noooooooooooo!, say it ain't so. YOUR Ma Gaia, YOUR life support: critical. Emergency. Really. Truly. You-all in ... deep deep doo doo.


P__L__E__A__S__E  stop. At least until you can restore what you've taken and have regrouped your troops. At least until you have rejuvenated ALL of you, AKA: YOU, the people, the masses of harassed asses, and all of your other creature buddies upon your globe, the beloved but besieged. TAKE THE LEAD, MAKE THE LEAP, and join THE EARTH FAMILY. Mentor others, or others' kids. Take a fertility furlough and enlist in the Earth Army, The Big Family, and mother Mother Earth! Change the world, not just diapers. That is a NEW MORAL order.

We have an OVERPOPULATION problem. No, no, no!, it's not that we have too many babies or too many children or even too many people, but it's the fact that we are overpopulated by a smelly, primitive way of life that refuses to offer any better viable alternatives than to encourage its populace to pollute, pillage, and plunder: like pigs. Oink, oink... Yoink!!! Beam me up, Scotty, the backward ways that be on Planet Ma E are ... fouling the boat.


In the interest of clarity: Depop not (depopulate not, i.e., kindly avoid rapid and harsh population decrease). Take not the creepy bait mandate to eradicate, exterminate, and depopulate. Deviate around all the hate, and begin to educate, activate, and emancipate a great way to co-create and regenerate.


Earthfolk, why don't you hop up onto the helm and commence with putting the civil back into your "civilization?" How about it? ...What are you waiting for?... It's all about the Q.U.A.L.I.T.Y., earthdudes, not just the quantity. "The quality of life should rule #1, over and above, the quantity of life." Our guidepost for an ideal planetary population shouldn't be a ridiculously small number, nor a short-sighted, clearly cuckoo "marching off the cliff to a pontificating Pied Piper's la la tweedledee toot toot of more, more, more, more, more, more ...," but an attitude, a philosophy, a state of mind---on just how GREAT AND KIND---we can treat every being's behind. Jeesh, it's not about being anti-baby. It is about being anti-ungreat-home-life, ... anti-crappy-world. It's mostly about being PRO-AMPLY-PREPPED-
PARENTHOOD.


The Super Smart Solution
So, if you're a little horny or even if you're a lotta horny, by all means, go and groove with that happy dancing Pan in your pants, but, at the bare minimum, can you please just consider the kindest recreational sex choice of them all: just jerk it. She-bop a lot. IT'S 100% FAILURE-FREE BC. Wonderfulwomen, wax that canoe. Gentlemen, choke Mr. Chicken. A spunk ounce of prevention is worth, uh, oh, roughly, seven and a half pounds of kicking, crying "cure." Palmed Parenthood. ...Play... magic fingers!... Hey, man, it's entirely your call---either a little discipline now: VOLUNTARILY, the lightened load road, or a lot of discipline later: FORCED BY NECESSITY, the unready, heavy duty, Mommy & Daddy sacrificial shuffle.

And, also, just as importantly: DON'T FLY SOLO, but do it Telepathic Mind Sex style by inviting along one of your safest-sexual polyplaypals in order to launch a raunchy, responsible rendezvous. TMS: mighty powerful, mighty fun--the bravest, the wisest, and the CRAZIEST, SANEST SEX choice of them all.


X!X! Johnny Neptune, from Beyond, Off-Planet, At Large. SpaceXXX. Visiting Intergalactic Citizen to Planet Earth, temporarily stationed: USA, Ohio, Columbus. August 18, 2010 Mind and hand over matter, it's sup-ah sex on a platter! Putting power back into the hands of the People. reviso 3.31.2021  Reverse the NON-WELL-PREPARED birth curse. He took the issue (masturbation) up on his own. Man, tr                                                                                                                            ust me, let me tell you: NOT the most popular issue.