Dr. Nolove or: How I learned to Stop Looking for Love or Anything Like It: Part 10 in an Ongoing Series: The Beast In Me

Preamble: this is a dating advice series from a formerly long suffering comrade in the struggle. I’m out of the game for life but I’m offering up some hard earned wisdom for those still grappling. (See bottom of this post for legend, mission statement, and credentials.)

You ever heard some mouth breather say “I ain’t related to no monkey” when expressing their disgust for the theory of evolution?

You ever hear a person degrade another person by calling them an “animal”?

You ever read about a shithead calling an indigenous person a “savage”?

You ever heard a friend say an interaction or relationship, however brief, with someone else was purely physical?

A lot of that nonsense comes from the book of Genesis when God is said to create all animals for man to use in any manner he sees fit. A lot of it comes from our understanding of the human brain and our species marveling at all of our abstract and concrete accomplishments. A lot of it comes from placing the abstract over the physical in terms of value. All of it together explicitly states that humanity is far superior and different from the animal kingdom and this is evidenced by how we communicate and by the things we create.

But I believe the abstract is no better or worse than the physical. Further I believe some things we define as abstract are actually physical phenomena that science has not explained yet.

Take dating for example. How many people have been marked as perfect or near perfect matches by dating website algorithms? How many times have people mutually swiped right on each other and had “great” text banter with each other before meeting up for a date? How many times has a friend set up another friend on a date and described the mystery suitor as someone is perfect (on paper) for them?

How many times have those optimistic beginnings gone up in flames when the two meet and there is no “chemistry” or “sparks”? It happens all the time. People can have lengthy email or text exchanges prior to meeting each other and when they find themselves sitting across from each other, all they can do is stare into their drinks and exchange painful small talk?


They were perfect on paper for each other. From a social Darwinist perspective, they both satisfied each other’s requirements of the other’s socioeconomic status. They both got to see (for this post let’s assume the photos were recent and not misleading) photos of each other and were both good with them.


You’ve all seen couples who don’t seem to match up. One is far better looking than the other. Maybe they share completely different politics or incompatible religions. Maybe they have no hobbies or few interests in common.


There’s not really much support for the existence and/or effectiveness of human pheromones. At least not yet. But I’ve never let reality or evidence get in the way of one of my theories.

I just think when people violently snap or when people are drawn to a person who doesn’t meet any of their abstract, social, or aesthetic criteria, something else must be drawing them together.

What about when they have a great conversation? Nope. There’s plenty of examples of people hooking up and barely saying anything to each other.

It might not be pheromones. It might be something on a much more microscopic level. Maybe it’s some kind of as yet undetected energy. Whatever it is, and I’m gonna call it pheromones, it’s something our precious, self aggrandizing brains can not articulate. It flows below the surface of our ego, deep in the dark waters of our id.

And just because it’s not a poem and just because it’s not an account balance and just because it’s not a buxom physique does not mean it is any less valuable than any of those conscious criteria. In fact I’d say it is quite the opposite.

Because we can’t understand its language or its nature and it still overcomes speaks to its power.

And despite all of our well curated requirements, time and time again, the beasts inside rear up and shake us from our preconceptions.


Mankind has given me many names. Among my names is Dr. NoLove, House Foolsrush, Thirteenth of My Name, the Burnt, King of the Unlucks and the Last Men, Khal of the Cul-de-sac, Breaker of Mine Own Heart, Big Baby Deezus, Father of the Rejections, the One True Holy and Apostolic Dating Jesus (the photo below is my cousin Buddy – we have the same chin).

All of these rubrics are meaningless.

I am the state (of dating).

I am the one scrub with many faces.

I am the erring and the untruth and the dullness.

Your finite measures cannot contain me.

I am become dating, the destroyer of love.

Mission Statement:

The key master is here, in the days after this shell’s darkest hour, to pass on the lessons we have learned after 7,882 days (we have dated 200+ women dated in 22 years) in this latest desert. I have suffered for your dating sins so you do not.


Who am I to comment on dating? 

  • 22 years of dating (IRL and Online)
  • Dating experience on three continents and seven major metropolitan areas
  • Early online dating adopter (suffering since 1996)
  • I’ve been on a date with 200+ unique, and all wonderful in their own way, women
  • Produced a 90,000 word creative writing portfolio devoted to online dating trials and, well, trials

#miracle #heterosexual #dating #datingadvice #platonic #loveislove #asexual #starwars #yoda #jesus #drstrangelove #buddyjesus #desert #sacrifice #wisdom #lessonslearned #agot #got #gameofthrones #khal #mentalhealth #depression #anxiety #teachablemoments

#pheromones #animal #beast

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