SGL Café ...

“A lust-laced hallelujah.” That’s how G. B. Mann described the steamy novel, In Search of Pretty Young Black Men by award-winning filmmaker and playwright Stanley Bennett Clay. The quote, by the author of Low-Hanging Fruit, is on the back cover of the dust-jacket. I made a skeptical little sound at the magnificent, though extremely ‘authorly’ quip—one carefully crafted to be repeated, and therefore, somewhat self-serving. Why am I repeating it, you say? Because after reading the book, I realize that Mr. Mann’s four little words can't be bested. He hit the nail with this one … dead center. I took the provocatively titled tome on my birthday cruise and between peaceful moments staring at the sea, I was enraptured by this tale of Dorian Moore, “... a mysterious and seductive young man who provides comfort to the moneyed, the neglected, the lost, and the lonely in an elegant hilltop community in Southern California.” It was the title that drew me in, and I ordered it from Amazon without knowing a thing about Stanley Bennett Clay. Maybe because I've resigned myself to the fact that, in a way, my life has been a search for pretty young black men ever since I was one … and also that, until the day I die, they’ll have the heart-stopping ability to bring a smile to my face, a tingle to my nether-region, and make me play the biggest fool. Yeah. The good ones can. As J and I sun-bathed and enjoyed the pleasant rocking of the ship (he was reading the hip debut by Blaire R. Poole ... Breathe), I peeked over my shades at the most pleasant sight. A real, live, pretty young black man (who'd only been old enough to drink for ten minutes, tops) sauntered by looking edible, dangerous and darkly Brazilian in his Speedo. My elbow nudged J and we both watched him set up a deck chair opposite us … and then put on a seductive show involving languid application of oil, and a few choice stretches. ‘Oh … my ... God.’ J muttered, expressing his appreciation for my heads-up. I thought of Stanley Bennett Clay’s character, Dorian Moore—who drove some residents of the exclusively rich black enclave of Baldwin Hills to lascivious and tragic distraction—and I had to admit that lust for such heavenly creatures ... can do exactly that.

“…Was he a god, or was he just another piece of trade? Maybe Dorian Moore was one and the same; after all, gods and trade both provide comfort.” And Stanley Bennett Clay goes on … “The cannibalizing of Dorian Moore, and morsels like him, will continue. It is the law of nature that these are grown for the nourishment of others.”

Halle(fuckin’)lujah. But don’t forget … G. B. Mann sorta said it first. Stanley Bennett Clay grabs you by the nuts, and slowly squeezes. In Search of Pretty Young Black Men made me question the objectification of the pretty young ‘anythings’ of the world, and ponder society’s ideas (and my own) about lust and morality. And reading it was kinda like being ravaged by a pretty young black man. Well ... almost. ~~~ Speaking of pretty young black men and shameless objectification ... this muthafuka will have you out robbin' liquor stores for his ass. Daniel Norell ... is the Swedish model/bodybuilder/actor who many are objectifying at this moment ... so much so that idle chatter, some admit, would be optional, if not downright discouraged. Hallelujah ... and Amen. Thanks to Rod2.0 for keeping his satellite aimed on Daniel, among other wonderful things of interest to us all. Rod has more Daniel photos and links than most hearts can take. You've been warned.