This time, I promised myself, I'm going to keep my fingers off the keyboard for at least two days. Yeah. Sounds like the last time I swore off of ice-cream. I was already warming up my hands when BG mentioned the science vs. arts types, but when Rod mentioned Arthur Tress, I hit the "Reply" button so quickly I didn't know what had happened until the message panel popped up.
I promise, I promise to be brief. (1) I think the dichotomy drawn between "liberal arts" and "science" is bogus. The sciences help us to find answers to our "how" questions, and the arts help us to find answers to our "why" questions. Both sets of questions are natural to human beings, and human beings have to seek answers or they go crazy. Both ways of questioning require skill, rigor, discipline and critical thinking. Neither one is better than the other, and neither has any meaning in the absence of the other. (2) There are people who appropriate what they call "scientific thinking" or "artistic sensitivity" for their own purposes, which are frequently narcissistic, irresponsible, and pathological. I don't have any more time for "artists" who spend their lives picking lint out of their navels than I do for "scientists" who believe that everything important can be quantified. Both sets of folks are in full retreat from life.
That's why I brought up this thread. What turns me on like a switch is a guy who is engaged, who is plugged in, alive to the world around him; a guy who is curious and capable of wonder; a guy who can get as excited as a kid; whose response to mystery is a combination of laughter and tears. Physical beauty is powerful; men are hard-wired to be attracted by someone's looks and there's just no denying it. But men are also hard-wired to get bored with somebody's looks, and bored quickly. The hottest men I have ever known were hot not because they looked like Ken dolls designed by Bruce Weber, but because they were so interesting that I knew I could never get enough. In the end, sex for me is about life itself, and nothing else. Sparkle. Zest. Snap, crackle, and pop. Call it what you will, it's the stuff of great lovers and, consequently, of great escorts.