Avoiding Enslavement

Superherofan is doing an excellent job of reminding me about the gorgeous buffet of manflesh on the Starz series, Spartacus: Blood and Sand. For some reason, I need reminding, because this series (shockingly) has not become must-see television for me. The sheer quantity of high, high quality muscles on display, frequently naked, in the context of the brutality and life-and-death gladiator competition of the Roman arena seems like it would be seared into my head as a required television destination. For some reason, it has not.

To the extent that I have watched, the concept revolves around the objectification of human life, and in particular the objectification of the smokin’ hot male muscleboy. Um… yeah… why am I not watching this series slavishly?
It’s not a lack of lustfulness for the star of the show, Andy Whitfield. Sweet God, that body is like a playground jungle-gym: it must be grabbed and climbed upon, and every inch must be explored.
Astonishingly gorgeous muscle asses appear to regularly be center stage. Frequently, they’re pumping and flexing in mesmerizing rhythms of intercourse. My imaginative powers can easily photoshop the women on the bottom out of the scenes and insert my own hard pulsing body in their place. The more-than-occasional full-frontal shot also lifts Spartacus well above other skin-fest productions that I’ve been helpless to fall in obsessive lust with.
But Spartacus hasn’t yet truly captured me, enslaved me, and beaten me into submission. All the right elements haven’t yet possessed me in the manner that I expected them to. I suspect this may be a series that ensnares through the devious devices of Netflix. Sometimes I’m not just ready for a new obsession until I’m ready.
Like Michael C. Hall who recently announced his battle with cancer, Spartacus himself, Andy Whitfield is under treatment for lymphoma. The irony is, as it always is, cruel. The epitome of virility and at the peak of physical perfection, Andy is now battling with a life threatening illness. My thoughts and prayers are for his speedy recovery, his return to full health, and his gorgeous beauty once again clad only in a loin cloth… or less.

What the Hell?

What the hell is Starz? Oh, wait… I actually have a subscription package that includes that cable channel! Who knew? Now that Superherofan has pointed out for me that there’s a new series on Starz called Spartacus: Blood and Sand, headlining lots of muscleboy gladiator nakedness, I know!
Who the hell is Andy Whitfield? From the looks of things, he’s the man of my dreams (who knew?)! His casting credits are seriously thin, but I’m ready to promise to buy every ticket to every movie he makes from now on (particularly if he shows his beautiful bare ass).

Who knew that the first century Roman slaves had asses as smooth as… well, as smooth as babies’ bottoms?! That is one shapely set of glutes, and the tan line is fantastic. For the love of God, someone has got to reach out and squeeze two handfuls of that for me! I do note that Andy’s Spartacus appears to have a shaggy, nasty head of hair and beard, but otherwise his body hair appears remarkably well-groomed, perhaps even overly so for some tastes.

I haven’t found the channel among the rats nest of unused cable channels that they force me to buy in order to get my Dexter/True Blood/Tudors fixes. But from what
Superherofan reports and what the Starz website promotes, there’s an abundance of hunky male nudity, bondage, fights and sex. Is Spartacus the new fix I need to tide me over until the last season of The Tudor’s hits the air? Who knows?
With stunningly hot Andy Whitfield naked, beaten, bare-assed and bound, I for one am ready to find out!