A Parent's Guide to Preventing Homosexuality by Joseph and Linda Ames Nicolosi

Homosexuality: is it learned, biological or both?

The answer to this question deeply concerns parents. They want to know how they can best raise their children. A common belief today is that nothing can be done to foster the development of healthy heterosexual orientation in children. But the clinical experience and professional research of Dr. Nicolosi and others indicates otherwise.

In this groundbreaking book Joseph and Linda Ames Nicolosi uncover the most significant factors that contribute to a child's healthy sense of self as male or female. Listening to moving recollections from ex-homosexual men and women who describe what was missing in their own childhoods, the Nicolosis provide clear insight for identifying potential developmental roadblocks and give practical advice to parents for helping their children securely identify with their gender.

Replete with personal stories from parents, children and ex-homosexual strugglers, offers compassion and hope for all those parents who seek to lay a foundation for a healthy heterosexual identity in their children.

The 2017 edition can be found here: www.josephnicolosi.com/book-store/siayfehvtq7a22r4ud6yjkc8djhos3

#2002 #Edition #AParentsGuidetoPreventingHomosexuality #JosephNicolosi #Books #Nonfiction #Parenting #Sexuality #Research #SpiritualWarfare #PsychologicalWarfare #CultureWar #EconomicWar #BiologicalWarfare #BureaucraticWarfare #KineticWarfare #UnrestrictedWarfare #Demoralization #IdeologicalSubversion #Relationships #FemaleHeaded #Household #Promiscuity #Predditors #Grooming #Homosexuality #SamesexAttracted #Sodomites #Pedophiles #Noncery #Pederasty #Pedophocracy #GenderDysphoria #Politics #Ideology #Marxism #Feminism #MentalIllness #MoralIllness

My Dad used to do this thing we just called Sitting, wherein a couple of times a week, he'd come sit on my bedside before I fell asleep, and tell me things about history. I really loved these nights, and they left a powerful impression on me that I still remember (and feel) half a century later, long after he passed. In adulthood I researched, corroborated, and expanded upon my knowledge of some of the things he talked about.

• When he was a wee lad, his Dad being away for years serving in WWII and what that was like for him and his Mom and baby Sister. Then stories about his years in Basilone Homes, which I realized was war training barracks turned "Projects" for WWII veterans. If you think Vets are treated shabbily after their service now, back then they didn't even have a name for PTSD unless you count Shell Shock, and though my Grandfather was normal (heh) and productive long before I came around, he struggled for years after the war. My Dad spoke of owning exactly two toys before kindergarten. One of his playmates (a boy) always wanted to play House, always wanted to be "The Mom," and always started the game by wailing, "Oh, I just don't know WHAT to DO!" At some point, his parents got roped into early Dianetics, which was presented as an alternative to psychotherapy. He described being dragged to weekend retreats where they practiced a trauma-releasing activity my Dad said was called Running, and how strange it was to see your parents crying their eyes out for hours on end.

• The XF-11, Howard Hughes' ultra fast reconnaissance plane with revolutionary and problematic counter-rotating variable pitch propellers on each engine. Hughes insisted on piloting its maiden flight, or maybe his test pilots refused as the project suffered from delays beyond the end of the war, as well as an influencing scandal involving the Eisenhower family that Hughes managed to dodge prosecution for. The propellor system failed in flight, and Hughes crashed into and destroyed houses in Beverly Hills and nearly burned to death. During recovery, he had his engineers develop a hospital bed with 30 motors and pushbutton controls, which like the plane wasn't finished in time for its intended purpose but the technology went on to future use.

• Some kids who snuck into a stormdrain tunnel to huff carbon tetrachloride, and did not live to climb back out.

• A serious passenger train derailment that he heard about live on the radio. First there was an announcement for any available doctors and nurses to go to the scene. Then another for any available clergymen to go. Then another announcement for doctors, nurses, clergymen, and especially sightseers to STOP coming to the scene because the huge crowd was hampering the rescue efforts. Turns out this was the first activation of a new system developed by a signal corps veteran after a discussion with an exasperated police dispatcher friend about emergency lines getting flooded to uselessness by news agencies calling in for information about major incidents and personnel having to repeat the information to them one at a time over and over. They developed a box that activated a tape recorder when a specific pair of tones sounded for 22.5 seconds, and recorded the announcement being made one time in all newsrooms equipped with the $6000-in-today's-dollars box, ready for immediate broadcast. This later split into the Sigalert system exclusively for traffic-impacting events of greater than 30 minutes, and the Emergency Broadcast System that in the 2000s mercifully replaced the annoying tones with shorter digital blips.

• His high school band in which he played Saxophone. They aaaalmost had a hit when an older black blues musician used them as the backing band for a single that got a single pressed and started getting radio play. In addition to the 45 in the video, he had a white label single sided 45 pressing, upon which he had drawn the Skylark logo in ink pen, with one too many diamonds, the last of which was poorly scribbed out. He also had a tape of the band's music on a translucent blue reel, and would get the tape recorder out occasionally for a playing of "The Blue Tape" which we kids loved. The band ended up falling apart shortly after. Later in adulthood, he told me the actual reason, still vaguely because this was taboo for his generation and still scandalous in the 80s, but Ben Harper was also a pervert and apparently seduced one of his bandmates. www.youtube.com/watch?v=lf4lnbnteaq

Speaking of The Blue Tape, there was also The Red Tape with a typed adhesive label "Asst Rock '62" which he played much more frequently, consisting of air play from Radio Station 93 KHJ. In my 40s, long after the tape had gotten too brittle to play, I figured out in my 40s that the songs were curated shortly after his first Fiancée walked off a week before their planned wedding. By rare accounts she was a vain THOT, and the few times he spoke of her, he always pantomimed spraying hair spray with a Tsssh-Tsssh sound. Once as a preschooler, the recorder was out and the Red Tape playing, then my Mom called me in for lunch, a tuna sandwich which I hated. However, I was willing to eat the damn thing while continuing to listen to The Red Tape, but they wouldn't let me even though I knew how to handle the recorder if the tape broke so it wouldn't flap into shreds, a problem with aging open reel tapes. When they still refused, in an early act of defiance, I flung the one-bite-taken sandwich into the dirt under the shrubs and screamed, "LET THE ANTS EAT IT!!!" The Red Tape was put away for the day and I had to eat a WHOLE tuna sandwich afterward. I think of that fiancée when modern young guys idealize the women of the '50s and '60s.

• Project Azorian and the Glomar Explorer, a top-secret ship custom built to recover a Soviet submarine that sank to 15,000 feet. The CIA used Howard Hughes to channel the money for the custom ship through, in a ruse that Hughes was developing it to mine manganese nodules from the seafloor. The sub was lost under radio silence and the Soviets had sent a huge flotilla of subs and ships to hunt for it, hundreds of miles in the wrong direction. Between that, and an explosion detected by American tracking sonar system that pinpointed the correct location of the explosion within a few miles, Americans figured out what was up and discovered the wreckage and set about recovering it in near-impossible conditions. The sub was partially lifted by a special custom grapple, part of which failed causing most of the sub to break free and be lost on the deep seabed for good. While they were working, the Soviets suspected what was up, and a Soviet "tugboat" that had no business within thousands of miles of there passed close enough to the Glomar Explorer's worksite for the crew to moon the Americans, who responded in kind. Another Soviet ship passed near, but the ruse was partially successful. The remarkable thing, though Hughes' companies supposedly didn't work on the project itself, my Dad's telling of the story MUST have come from firsthand involvement, as it was only redacted enough for a first-grader's comprehension but not national security interests, before some of the information was leaked after a 1975 burglary and a quarter century before it was officially declassified.

Fathers, the takeaway here is that talking to your sons at bedtime will leave a lifelong impression on them!