Some people will balk at what I'm trying to say. The various sex offenders lists (by state) in the US list people who have committed statutory rape as well as real rape. The problem I have with people being branded this way is that the age of consensual sex isn't universal — not by a long shot.

The Attraction to Young Teens and 12-Year Olds

Most men above the age of 21 won't admit to being attracted to females aged 12-17, but a lot of them are. They'll lie about it, when asked, just to be safe from the long arm of the law. What's wrong with being attracted to young females?

When I was a teen, I was attracted to females in their teens. That hasn't changed and why should it? It could only change if I changed; my personality and my likes and dislikes would have to be different than they were back then. The only important difference is how I react to the attraction.

In other words, there's nothing mentally wrong with men who are attracted to young females. On the other hand, there has to be something wrong with men who are attracted to young females who haven't reached womanhood yet.

The same thoughts apply to women and young boys.

Consensual Sex Laws

This table of worldwide consent ages will give you an idea of what I'm talking about when I say that the more modernized societies have a higher minimum age of consent.

Some countries (not the US) have a minimum consensual sex age of 12. The Philippines is one of four. Several countries have a minimum consensual sex age of 13. Only three states of 50 in the US have a minimum consensual sex age of 14. Being in the wrong state, so to speak, could have dire consequences for the older sex partner.

Statutory Rape Laws

I personally believe there should be a stipulation added to all statutory rape laws. The younger person in such cases should be examined for physical maturity. Using age as a hard line not to be crossed is crazy. It's been noted by researchers, for whatever reasons, that some population groups are maturing faster than others. Some of it could be due to ethnicity, heredity, and even the chemicals in our food supply.

Using a hard line, especially when the younger person looks much older than he or she is, can forever tarnish the reputation and much more for the older person who's convicted of statutory rape and/or added to a sex offenders list.

I can only hope that people in the judicial system will change the way they classify people in regards to sex crimes. Somehow I doubt it will ever happen.

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• Racism in America

I'm removing two of the old posts from my main blog, Untwisted Vortex, and rewriting the information, in order to present my thoughts in a more coherent manner. You see, racism still exists in America when it should be all but wiped out.

Living Amongst Other Races in My Early Years

I consider myself fortunate. The first home I can remember living in (Coolidge, Arizona, USA) sat next to a bunch of slums owned by the city's slum lord. I can still remember his last name. It was McBath. He also owned a second-hand store on one of the old main streets. I don't know what happened to McBath because my family moved to Hawaii in 1974 and when we moved back in 1977, the slums were gone and so was his store.

Mr. McBath was a black man and from a child's perspective, he was kind of old. I'm sure he wasn't as old as I remember him, but I'll never know for sure how old he was. The slums he owned were occupied by other black people and people of Spanish descent. I want to say Mexican descent, but I really don't remember what they were, other than that they spoke Spanish.

As a child, I played with the other children from those slums, as well as children of all races in our neighborhood. I didn't see them as children of other races; I just saw children. I didn't know anything about the American civil rights movement that peaked in 1968, and it wouldn't have had any effect on me if it did.

Living in Hawaii

From the early part of 1974 to the latter part of 1977, my family lived near the small city of Kapaa on the island of Kauai in Hawaii. It was there that I received my first taste of racism. We didn't live near the tourist industry of Honolulu and the people didn't act like the people did in those places.

Everyone in my family was called "haole", which actually means "stranger", from the day we arrived to the day we departed. We were one of the few white families on the island. I was beaten, harassed and even arrested because I wasn't a "local". I didn't look like them, dress like them, or speak like them. Over the course of the 3 years and some odd months that I lived there, I started dressing like they did and speaking "Pidgin English" like they did. It took me months after returning to the mainland to break the bad habits I picked up there.

The original article I wrote drew some nasty comments from someone who lived in Hawaii. I didn't intend for it to be taken the way it was taken, but I was called a bigot and then had to think about it. I asked other readers what they thought in another article and I concluded that I wasn't out of line, but real bigots see everyone else as bigots but not themselves. The article was depicting just one form of racism I've experienced in my life.

I honestly can't say I'm not a bigot. I think there's a little bigotry in all of us, no matter what our experiences have been.

Living in the Philippines

In 2006, I and my Filipina wife moved to the Philippines where I now reside. I have seen very little racism here. The strangest thing I've noticed is that I'm not comfortable being around other Americans, particularly white Americans. I'm at home amongst the Filipinos. I don't know why, but perhaps it's because I see them as something other than Americans. When other Americans speak to me, the way they talk turns me off in that they refer to the Filipinos they live among in derogatory ways, probably unintentionally.

I may one day return and live in the US and if I do, I'll have a much greater respect for other races. More so than I already have, I'm sure.

Labels and Other Terms

Even during the years I spent on military active duty (1978-1998), I witnessed racism even if it was a much milder form of it. In order not to step on toes, some people were addressed as "light green marines" or "dark green marines". The mistake, in my opinion, was using anything that signified color.

I don't know why black Americans want to be called "African-Americans". There are plenty of white people who hail from parts of Africa, but you don't hear them identifying with that label. I don't believe labels help to stem racism — I think they promote it. Racism is an attitude that can't be changed by labels — only through education and experience can people put aside racist attitudes. I have no problem being called white and I don't think black people should have any problem being called black, but I think we all need to stop including color as an identifier.

Reverse Discrimination

I've been in leadership positions almost my entire life, both in the military and afterward. I've seen the racial quota systems turn everything around and tip the scales of employment, rights and privileges toward the minorities versus the majority (white people). Instead of balancing the scales, it causes the scales to become unbalanced on the other side.

I hope this makes sense. Racism is a two-way street and it isn't limited to white people only. Only when people are treated equally, and thought of as equals, will the discrimination, reverse discrimination and other forms of racism disappear. I'm afraid, however, that it will never happen.

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• Sex and 12-Year Olds — Sex Offenders of the Law

I'm not going to get all preachy here. I'm not a big believer in everything the "good book" has to offer, even though there are some stories worth reading. They teach us valuable lessons about life that we don't fully appreciate until we experience them for ourselves. This Christmas time, I've personally witnessed the value of at least one of the stories and I'm about to share that with you.

Jesus and Secrets

I never understood why Jesus didn't want people that he helped telling anyone else about it until I started living in the Philippines amongst my wife's family. It seemed to me that he wouldn't want to keep each miracle a secret since it would validate his cause.

When I found out that I'd be short of cash during this year's Christmas season, I realized that a lot of people would be upset because I wouldn't be able to give EVERYONE a gift. I'm not selfish, but the money tree is a little bare this year.

I've been telling relatives for weeks that there wouldn't be any gifts from me this year and the reasons why. They understand even if they don't like it. Unfortunately, I have to help some of them with money or they won't be able to eat. So… to make an extremely long story short, I took care of the people who needed to be taken care of and told them to keep it a secret.

The Reason for Secrecy

After my own experience, I can appreciate why Jesus didn't want anyone to know about what he'd done. If word got out, everyone who had a problem would have sought him out and he wouldn't have had a moment's rest ever again.

It's kind of like that with me. If the relatives that didn't receive anything for Christmas found out about the fact that some of their other relatives did, I would never hear the end of it and I wouldn't have a moment's peace for months. It's better to let the people who are doing without think that everyone is doing without rather than knowing the truth. Feelings would be hurt and people would be angry at each other as well as at me.

I don't like keeping secrets, but sometimes keeping secrets is an absolute necessity.

I was called by the Holy One himself on January 8, 2001. I declined to be minister for one simple reason: If I can't understand His book in its entirety, then how can I possibly explain anything from it to anyone else. You may ask me how I know it was Him that called me. To the average person, I'd probably respond with something like "You can ask." Since you're taking the time to read this, I'll explain everything to the best of my ability.

Over on my main site, I wrote a few articles (very few) that dealt with religious topics and I'll be moving them over here as I'm moved to do so. I'll try not to repeat anything here, but I'm sure things will overlap.

The Little Voice Inside My Head

Crazy people hear voices, right? I don't hear voices. I get thoughts belonging to Him, on very rare occasions, pressed over my own. I don't know how else to describe it. The thoughts were not my own.

How does God communicate? Does He need to speak? I doubt it.

The first time it happened, it was when I was dating my wife. I don't remember the exact location, but we were sitting across from each other at a small table, somewhere here in the Philippines in June of 1983.

We were talking and she needed to go to the "comfort room". When she walked away, I was alone at table with my glass of soda (I think it was soda). In the blink of an eye, I knew that Josie (now my wife) was going to be my wife. I didn't know where the thought came from at the time. I just knew.

Fast forward to 2001. While I was unemployed and being treated for a medical condition (I think it's called adhesive encapsulitis), I was reading some atheist comments on a particular website (one that I can't remember) and was feeling depressed. In another instant, I received what I knew was not my thought: "Tell them". I blurted "Tell them what?" immediately, in response. I already knew the answer. I was supposed to tell people that He exists. That's all. Nothing more and nothing less. To me, that sounded like a call to ministry. If it was, I declined for the reason I stated earlier. I asked Him how I was supposed to do what he told me to do and I received another thought: "You'll know."

The second incident was exactly like the first. Just a thought, an impression of some kind. It was, however, unmistakable. Now, I don't know who God is (another than by his biblical name) or what He is, I just know that He is.

Why Here, Why Now?

Well, because a third incident happened yesterday, on my 48th birthday (which I didn't celebrate — I never really celebrate my birthday — it isn't important to me). The last time He said I'd know. Yesterday, I knew.

Writing this here and now is how it starts. Therefore I'm telling you, the reader of this article: He exists. In future articles, and in articles moved from the other site, I'll provide some of my historical relationship with God, my thoughts on what's written in the Holy Bible, and continue from there.

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