Some time before The Secret but after Giving an Innocent Child’s Blood to Aruk, sorcerers interested in personal growth used something called self-hypnosis. It’s basically telling yourself what you want to hear -very hard- and hoping it comes true. People used it to bowl better, pick up disco chicks, or get bigger tits. This book is about solving your sex problems with self-hypnosis, so the author called it…
This is a used copy, and like all previously owned metaphysical books, the last reader seems like they were engaged for about five pages before they either abandoned their new life as a wizard or decided their powers were great enough. The preliminary instructions for achieving a state of self-hypnosis are heavily underlined and circled, but there are no signs they read anything else except for two dog-eared corners– one before the chapter “WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT MASTURBATION” and one on the section “how to remedy bedroom mistakes with self-hypnosis.” So here’s what we know about the previous owner: they are a half-trained hypnotist, they know at least what they should know about masturbation, and they are flawless in the bedroom. So I’m in some pretty fucking excellent company.
You might be wondering w– excuse me for a second. Go fuck yourself, Topper. Okay, you might be wondering what kind of sex problems you can cure with self-hypnosis. Well, this is a 1979 edition of a book first published in 1964, so their definition of “identifying problems” is pretty close to what you and I would call “hate crimes.” Author Frank S. Caprio believes homosexuals suffer from a deviant sickness which they would know if they’d just take the penises out of their holes and read a book. This isn’t a theory, by the way– it’s fact. It’s so important, Frank stops writing self-hypnosis affirmations for about 30 pages so he can explain what gay is and which traumas cause it. It’s so goddamn crazy. It’s like stopping a physics lecture to list which races have the dumbest voices. It’s like pausing The Voice to tell your wife, “All Lives Matter” six hundred times while stepping into your summoning circle to call Hitler. Here are some of the “up-to-date facts about male homosexuality” if you’re interested:
Now y– hold on. Topper, you are the “up-to-date facts about male homosexuality” of people. Now you understand this book was written by a man cursed with both unspeakable ignorance and supreme confidence who thinks psychic powers are real. This means Frank S. Caprio is capable of unlimited dislogic. For example, he knows self-hypnosis can cure gay, but some gays won’t want to be cured. Now stop for a second. I want you, treasured hot dog supporter, to get in Frank’s dumb-as-fuck mindset and think of the stupidest, most obvious thing a person would come up with to solve this problem. You’re right! The gays who don’t want a cure can use self-hypnosis to convince themselves they do want a cure! Frank S. Caprio’s mind is dumbshit turtles all the way down.
I apologize if you already know this, but females can also become afflicted with homosexuality (lesbianism). Frank’s “investigators” believe they are as numerous as male homosexuals. He uses this word “investigators” often, which at first I thought meant “experts” or “researchers.” But after seeing it so many times and in so many different contexts, I think it’s more likely Frank (🌭lmao) hired private detectives to document local homosexuals.
Frank absolutely forgot he was writing a book about self-hypnosis once he got on the subject of homosexuals.
My favorite story in the book is when Frank uncovers the source of one patient’s lesbianism. It was born when she was a child and she thought sex was when a boy peed directly into a girl. Right then and there she made a solemn, lifelong vow to never let it happen to her. And the only way to be certain of that was to become gay which is apparently harder to undo than relearning “sex is different from toilet.” Frank is probably making her up since her story is too insane to be real and also elegantly and stupidly supports his “facts.” Plus, it seems suspicious Frank ran into the only other person in the world who would devote their entire life and identity to a child’s misunderstanding of how everything works.
To be perfectly clear, there are dozens and dozens of pages like this followed by one paragraph telling you what to say to yourself to cure your homosexuality. But here’s the thing– none of it is written in the second person, and gay people are written about like they are a completely different species from the reader. It’s lunacy to think this book was ever intended to get into the hands of a reluctant homosexual. It was written for premature ejaculators and sex addicts who, unrelated to those problems, wanted to read several chapters of a madman’s bigoted ravings. This is like an air conditioning repair manual that’s just a list of common Jewish hiding places followed by the number for an air conditioning repairman. It is so fucked.
My mission at 1900HOTDOG is to do more than point at things and say look at the silly artifact from a time when idiots thought intolerance was “facts.” I mean, without question, behold the ancient hypnotist’s outrageous homophobia, but it’s also my job to find the secret absurdity hiding behind the obvious. And it’s this– Frank S. Caprio is debilitatingly horny. The only reason he got into hypnotherapy was to meet vulnerable nymphomaniacs without the ability to spot bullshit. Here’s the type of patient he describes treating several times:
These women can’t get enough dong, and it’s almost always because they can’t find the right lover. They suffer from something he calls “FRIGIDITY” which makes them insufferable, but also and more importantly: dick-thirsty. He mostly helps them use self-hypnosis to, and I’m not kidding, forgive themselves for cheating on their husbands.
Topper, you are the most joyless monstrosity to ever ride a geyser of black afterbirth into our world. You’re what food additive scientists call “the part of the beaver anal gland we have no use for.” Where were we? Oh yeah, Frank was trying to figure out how to use hypnotism to give orgasms to these poor horny adulteresses.
This is the story of one of his many sexy female patients who throw themselves onto dicks desperately hoping to find the satisfaction their husbands can’t give them. This one was simply “unable to refuse sex relation to any man who became her escort for the evening.” And for an unethical hypnotist in the ’60s, this is very much the greatest combination of words you could ever hope for.
Assuming anything Frank says is true, which is ludicrously unlikely, he also consulted with this patient’s husband, “Jack” to help him, gradually through hypnosis, keep an erection long enough to bring his unfaithful cock-starved wife to climax.
Topper, you’re going to have to avert your eyes, because not all of Frank’s sex tips are hypnotic. There’s a significant portion of this book that just forgets all about self-hypnosis to explain the physical mechanics of fucking a hole until it squirts.
There is… there is just so much of this. Frank fucks like Bret Michaels. He fucks like he’ll rupture if his balls aren’t drained every three hours. He fucks like a Mormon balls-deep in his fifth and seventh wives in the aisle of the school bus they used to get their 28 children to Red Lobster.
You probably guessed this from what you know about Frank, but he has very different rules for men and women when it comes to infidelity. When men cheat it’s more accidental, like looking down and saying, “This isn’t softball practice!” to the strange vagina you’re penetrating. Women are mentally ill and deliberate when they cheat, but men can be jogging and spontaneously start a secret family with a pantieless nymphomaniac running the wrong direction.
I want to tell you right now, though; Frank has no patience for people who kill their cheating wives. Under no circumstances should you murder your unfaithful spouse or her lover. It’s important not to strangle your whore wife to death followed by the man inside her, and this is a weird bit because you don’t yet know how often Frank weirdly repeats this sentiment over and over in his book. I’m not sure if he’s trying to find the right words or if a big part of self-hypnosis is NOT KILLING THAT AWFUL WOMAN, but please add it to the list of strange things going on here.
Oh, shit, I haven’t even talked about all the sex criminals Frank claims to have cured. He has a whole chapter on the rapists and pedophiles he reprogrammed with his techniques. And, look, I’m no expert. I’m just some guy who has read 74 books about self-hypnosis, but it doesn’t feel super safe when the man who stated, as fact, he can cure homosexuality is pretty sure the dangerous predators are ready to go free since he taught them how to hypnotize themselves and maintain an erection. You have to see the insanity he gets up to in pages 185 through 207…
Topper, you soulless fuck, I hate you even more when you’re right.
