Poor Jack…Jackie Boy

Let’s talk more about the frames.

Imagine a guy, let’s call him Jack.

Jack is the kind of man who fades into the background. Average, maybe a little below.

He never really stood out in school, never got much attention from women, and now, in his 40s, he’s stuck in a stale marriage where the spark has long since died.

He’s the kind of guy who never really “got laid” the way other men talk about it. His wife, Sarah, married him more out of convenience than passion, and deep down, Jack knows it.

Jack’s only real escape is his late-night porn binges. It’s the one thing that makes him feel something, even if it’s just a cheap substitute for what’s lacking in his real life.

But it’s not really the porn, is it? It’s the feeling of being wanted, even if it’s a fantasy, a click away, a flicker of something he’ll never get in real life.

The women on the screen don’t reject him, don’t sigh in disappointment when he fumbles, don’t look through him like Sarah does.

They’re always there, perfect, unattainable, and most importantly, under his control — or at least, that’s what he thinks.

One night, Sarah’s had enough. She catches him in the act again, and this time she doesn’t just roll her eyes or ignore it. No, this time, she comes down on him hard.

“Jack, I’m serious — knock it off with the porn or I’m going to fucking go crazy. I can’t take it anymore.”

There it is, the ultimatum. But as she stands there, arms crossed, her voice edged with disgust, there’s more going on.

She frames it like porn is the problem, like it’s an illness that’s rotting him from the inside out. But is it?

Or is porn just a symptom of something much deeper? A pathetic, broken man who’s never had a real connection.

A man so starved for affection that even the hollow echoes of porn feel like sustenance.

Sarah sees the porn as the disease, but Jack knows the truth, even if he won’t admit it.

The porn isn’t the cause of their failing marriage — it’s the escape. The real sickness is his emptiness, his failure to be anything more than a shadow in his own life.

Porn is just the band-aid he’s slapped over the gaping wound of his insecurity, his lack of self-worth to leave the marriage, his inability to be the man he thought he should be.

And Sarah? Maybe she’s using porn as a scapegoat because it’s easier than facing the reality that she’s checked out, too. That she’s married to a man she doesn’t respect, a man who’s become more of a burden than a partner.

Sarah storms out, leaving Jack sitting alone in the dim light of his computer screen, the silence thick around him. The ultimatum hangs in the air, but what she doesn’t realize is that the battle was lost long ago.

Porn isn’t the illness — it’s the last gasp of a man who never found a way to really live.

Never really lived. So he retreats into fantasy, fiction and imagination.

Opening up Jack’s frame of reality involves a shift in how he perceives himself and the world around him.

Right now, he’s trapped in a victim mindset, where his sense of worth is tied to fantasies and fleeting gratification, instead of addressing the root of his discontent.

The solution lies in breaking down the beliefs that keep him stuck, helping him reclaim control over his own narrative, and finding a sense of purpose outside of these destructive patterns.

But will he? 90% of people do NOT. The 9% do something. And the 1% become Elon Musk.

Doc