Shorter Atomic_Fungus: "Straight pride is no better or worse than gay pride... EXCEPT IT'S WAY BETTER BECAUSE GAYS ARE DISEASED PEDO PERVS."
(I wrote quite a screed of a comment, which I'll repost here if they delete it there.)
EDIT: His head a splode.
"No, you see gay people really are DIRTY DISGUSTING MOLESTING PERVERTS... but I'm very tolerant of them, so what are you even complaining about?"
Showing posts with label externally referent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label externally referent. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Why women have sex.
Because, dude, have you ever tried it? It's, like, amazing.
It's difficult to expand that to book-length, though, so instead we get this kind of bloviation.
"We do bring in men occasionally by way of contrast, but we wanted to focus exclusively on women so that the complexity of women's sexual psychology was not given the short shrift, so to speak," said Buss, a leading evolutionary psychologist.
No, I think you wanted to focus on women because:
A) The reader is assumed to be either a heterosexual man interested in unlocking the secrets to those mysterious creatures, or a functionally asexual woman interested in navel-gazing pop-psych
and
B) It goes without saying that all men need is a warm hole and thirty seconds, right? There's no need to do any research to confirm something that's obvious, duhh.
(I'm fascinated by how many men I know who've told me this, then gone into months-long girlfriend dramas where they expressed very subtle gradations of "I'm still attracted to her, right, but it's a different kind of attracted and there's someone new in my life now and I don't know if I would just hurt her at this point..." So much for warm holes.)
It turns out that women's reasons for having sex range from love to pure pleasure to a sense of duty to curiosity to curing a headache. Some women just want to please their partners, and others want an ego boost.
Humans engage in an incredibly common but societally meaningful activity for multiple reasons, stop the presses.
I'm going to write a book, "Why Women Have Lunch." Hunger is the obvious reason, but as my highly scientific survey reveals, women may also have lunch to socialize, to take a break from work, or even simply out of habit. Some women want the opportunity to try a new food, and others may want warm food on a cold day. Wow, women sure are complicated!
There is also evidence that sexual arousal is more complicated for women than for men, the authors report.
A study from Meston's lab showed a strong correlation between how erect a man's penis is and how aroused he says he is. By contrast, the link is much weaker between a woman's physical arousal (as measured inside her vagina) and the arousal she says she feels, the researchers found. This is why drugs to treat erectile dysfunction such as Viagra don't work as well in women, the authors said.
It's a two-way street, though; the man can see his wiener and go "oh, I guess I'm turned on now," whereas it's harder for a woman to know exactly how her vagina's reading to a photoplesmograph or however they're measuring it.
And Viagra doesn't work in women not because they're nebulously "complicated," but because they don't have wieners. I'm pretty sure you can have a raging little clitoral erection and still not be ready for sex if the rest of your system isn't up for it. It's analogous to saying "application of lubricant to the penis failed to ready the man for sex--men sure are complicated!"
That makes sense from an evolutionary perspective, even though men and women may not consciously think about their choices that way, the authors said. If the goal of a man is to spread his genes, he would need to look for signs of fertility in a woman, which are historically associated with physical cues, Buss said.
"The adaptive problem that women have had to solve is not simply picking a man who is fertile but a man who perhaps will invest in her, a man who won't inflict costs on her, a man who might have good genes that could be conveyed to her children," he said.
Oh God, "evolutionary psychology," my favorite fucking thing ever. My question this time around is, why is it subtle? Why would something so key to our fitness be subconscious? When I have a basic survival need--when I'm thirsty or cold or have an injury--I know it. The evolved desires for things like shelter and companionship are anything but subtle. Why would mate selection be the only one that's a wacky subliminal drive hidden even from ourselves?
And it's not like I select mates at seeming random and don't know why I felt that way until some smarty-pants psychologist comes and tells me. I like men who are intelligent, respectful, physically strong, have high sex drives, and share my geeky/kinky subculture--is there any mystery there? These are attributes that make them a better partner, not necessarily a better sperm-donor/investor, and I'm quite consciously aware of that.
(There are also some arbitrary ones, like my tendency to fall for blond guys or for Native American guys, but I don't see what these have to do with fertility or fatherhood either. More likely they're based on past experiences with men who were intelligent/etc. and also happened to look like that.)
A study from Rutgers University found that, during orgasm, women were able to tolerate 75 percent more pain.
I would've loved to be a participant in that study. (Which makes me wonder about self-selection of subjects, actually.)
A 26-year-old heterosexual woman wrote, "When I was single, I had sex for my own personal pleasure. Now that I am married, I have sex to please my husband. My own pleasure doesn't seem as important as his. I believe he feels the same way."
By "the same way," does she mean "the corresponding way," that he in turn values her pleasure more, or literally the same way, that they're both just doing it to get him off? Because the one doesn't fit the "women are so cooooomplicated" paradigm, and the other is a serious problem and shouldn't be looked at as the normal way of the world.
I'm sort of interested in buying this book, but I think it lacks context without a matched set, so I'll wait until "Why Men Have Sex" comes out. Should be soon, right?
It's difficult to expand that to book-length, though, so instead we get this kind of bloviation.
"We do bring in men occasionally by way of contrast, but we wanted to focus exclusively on women so that the complexity of women's sexual psychology was not given the short shrift, so to speak," said Buss, a leading evolutionary psychologist.
No, I think you wanted to focus on women because:
A) The reader is assumed to be either a heterosexual man interested in unlocking the secrets to those mysterious creatures, or a functionally asexual woman interested in navel-gazing pop-psych
and
B) It goes without saying that all men need is a warm hole and thirty seconds, right? There's no need to do any research to confirm something that's obvious, duhh.
(I'm fascinated by how many men I know who've told me this, then gone into months-long girlfriend dramas where they expressed very subtle gradations of "I'm still attracted to her, right, but it's a different kind of attracted and there's someone new in my life now and I don't know if I would just hurt her at this point..." So much for warm holes.)
It turns out that women's reasons for having sex range from love to pure pleasure to a sense of duty to curiosity to curing a headache. Some women just want to please their partners, and others want an ego boost.
Humans engage in an incredibly common but societally meaningful activity for multiple reasons, stop the presses.
I'm going to write a book, "Why Women Have Lunch." Hunger is the obvious reason, but as my highly scientific survey reveals, women may also have lunch to socialize, to take a break from work, or even simply out of habit. Some women want the opportunity to try a new food, and others may want warm food on a cold day. Wow, women sure are complicated!
There is also evidence that sexual arousal is more complicated for women than for men, the authors report.
A study from Meston's lab showed a strong correlation between how erect a man's penis is and how aroused he says he is. By contrast, the link is much weaker between a woman's physical arousal (as measured inside her vagina) and the arousal she says she feels, the researchers found. This is why drugs to treat erectile dysfunction such as Viagra don't work as well in women, the authors said.
It's a two-way street, though; the man can see his wiener and go "oh, I guess I'm turned on now," whereas it's harder for a woman to know exactly how her vagina's reading to a photoplesmograph or however they're measuring it.
And Viagra doesn't work in women not because they're nebulously "complicated," but because they don't have wieners. I'm pretty sure you can have a raging little clitoral erection and still not be ready for sex if the rest of your system isn't up for it. It's analogous to saying "application of lubricant to the penis failed to ready the man for sex--men sure are complicated!"
That makes sense from an evolutionary perspective, even though men and women may not consciously think about their choices that way, the authors said. If the goal of a man is to spread his genes, he would need to look for signs of fertility in a woman, which are historically associated with physical cues, Buss said.
"The adaptive problem that women have had to solve is not simply picking a man who is fertile but a man who perhaps will invest in her, a man who won't inflict costs on her, a man who might have good genes that could be conveyed to her children," he said.
Oh God, "evolutionary psychology," my favorite fucking thing ever. My question this time around is, why is it subtle? Why would something so key to our fitness be subconscious? When I have a basic survival need--when I'm thirsty or cold or have an injury--I know it. The evolved desires for things like shelter and companionship are anything but subtle. Why would mate selection be the only one that's a wacky subliminal drive hidden even from ourselves?
And it's not like I select mates at seeming random and don't know why I felt that way until some smarty-pants psychologist comes and tells me. I like men who are intelligent, respectful, physically strong, have high sex drives, and share my geeky/kinky subculture--is there any mystery there? These are attributes that make them a better partner, not necessarily a better sperm-donor/investor, and I'm quite consciously aware of that.
(There are also some arbitrary ones, like my tendency to fall for blond guys or for Native American guys, but I don't see what these have to do with fertility or fatherhood either. More likely they're based on past experiences with men who were intelligent/etc. and also happened to look like that.)
A study from Rutgers University found that, during orgasm, women were able to tolerate 75 percent more pain.
I would've loved to be a participant in that study. (Which makes me wonder about self-selection of subjects, actually.)
A 26-year-old heterosexual woman wrote, "When I was single, I had sex for my own personal pleasure. Now that I am married, I have sex to please my husband. My own pleasure doesn't seem as important as his. I believe he feels the same way."
By "the same way," does she mean "the corresponding way," that he in turn values her pleasure more, or literally the same way, that they're both just doing it to get him off? Because the one doesn't fit the "women are so cooooomplicated" paradigm, and the other is a serious problem and shouldn't be looked at as the normal way of the world.
I'm sort of interested in buying this book, but I think it lacks context without a matched set, so I'll wait until "Why Men Have Sex" comes out. Should be soon, right?
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Pervocracy Stew.
How long has it been since I last posted fun pictures? Too long!
So for your brief amusement, my butt, my boobs and pinchy things and hooray for nakey!
And a brief link, which I won't try your patience by fully eviscerating: Twisty Faster on what the "revolution" actually entails. Basically that we'd stop having families and being feminine (because only men want that, we all really want to be hairy and alone) and therefore all of civilization would restructure itself and religion and economy and government would crumble. (We want that too.)
And a weirder link, to something that's probably a great idea but you'd look so painfully ridiculous: Fleshlight cushions! Just plug it in and go to town like you were really having sex with a small square mattress-person! I think it's brilliant.
And a programming note: I'll be at the Kinky Crafters' Munch from 3-6 PM at the CSPC today, so if you're in Seattle and want to meet a real-life Holly Pervocracy, come say hi. (There's a $5 suggested donation for the event, membership not required, 18+ obviously.)
EDIT: Durrr. Fixed Twisty link.
So for your brief amusement, my butt, my boobs and pinchy things and hooray for nakey!
And a brief link, which I won't try your patience by fully eviscerating: Twisty Faster on what the "revolution" actually entails. Basically that we'd stop having families and being feminine (because only men want that, we all really want to be hairy and alone) and therefore all of civilization would restructure itself and religion and economy and government would crumble. (We want that too.)
And a weirder link, to something that's probably a great idea but you'd look so painfully ridiculous: Fleshlight cushions! Just plug it in and go to town like you were really having sex with a small square mattress-person! I think it's brilliant.
And a programming note: I'll be at the Kinky Crafters' Munch from 3-6 PM at the CSPC today, so if you're in Seattle and want to meet a real-life Holly Pervocracy, come say hi. (There's a $5 suggested donation for the event, membership not required, 18+ obviously.)
EDIT: Durrr. Fixed Twisty link.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Women's work.
Wow, crazy week has been crazy. And I don't mean "we're gonna need you to stay til 8" crazy, I mean haz-mat and FBI and things catching on fire crazy. And someone tried to bite me but only managed to rip off part of my jacket in her teeth. Like a shark. But enough dull shop talk.
LabRat sent me this article, which contains so many weird misconceptions and false analogies that I started going through it in my usual italics/snark manner until I gave up after writing several thousand words and realizing I was still on the first page of three.
Short version: People aren't animals, animals often aren't even animals when it comes to stereotypical dominance hierarchies, men's success shouldn't require women's failure, and the author's planet does not comprehend the strange human concept we call "love."
(Oh, and gay people don't exist. Gay people never exist in this kind of article. Poly people neither and in a weird way, contentedly single people least of all.)
But there was one thing I wanted to address because I've seen this same idea several places, feminist and non:
...the overwhelmingly female-staffed professions of education and health care have been relatively insulated... some economics experts think that women are better suited to the new "knowledge economy," in which such traits as sensitivity, intuition, and collaboration are valued over typically Alpha jockeying-for-power games.
Women don't become teachers and nurses because we're fuzzy-wuzzy soft touches for the adorable kiddies and sickies. (And anyone who thinks there aren't elaborate and vicious power games in education and healthcare hasn't spent enough time in either system.) We don't take those jobs because we're super good at niceness and whatever "intuition" is supposed to mean. Sometimes we take them because they're sort of traditionally female roles so it's easier for us to get hired and fit in, but that's not even the main reason.
What do teaching and nursing really have in common? They have flexible hours. Teachers work school hours and get the summer off; nurses are in high demand and every institution has a different weird scheduling system so nurses have a lot of choice in what hours they work. And both jobs, being part of massive institutions, tend to come with decent benefits.
And all this matters because women are much more likely to be the primary caregivers for children. The nurses I've worked with weren't there because of some uniquely feminine love of healing; they were there because they could get a shift that didn't start until their husband got home to watch the kids, or that ended before the afterschool programs did.
My own job is about 80% male. Is this because it's action-oriented, physically demanding, sometimes scary, and requires operating a big clunky truck? Not really. It's because none of the shifts are compatible with caring for young children and the pay is too low to afford childcare. (Unless you have a partner who can cover for you, which is more and more often the case. But that's what this article would call the terrible decline of the alpha male.)
Of course women can be sensitive, of course we can enjoy taking care of people. But so can men. It's not like male nurses are hopelessly gruff or female nurses can't be huge jerks (try coming to the ER at 3 AM with a complaint of "I've had a sorta scratchy throat for the last two weeks" and see how much you get nurtured). The reason there are more "alpha males" than females isn't in our fuzzyhuggy instincts; it's because power-gaming pack-dominant brave-hunter men are less likely to need to get off work before little Timmy gets home.
LabRat sent me this article, which contains so many weird misconceptions and false analogies that I started going through it in my usual italics/snark manner until I gave up after writing several thousand words and realizing I was still on the first page of three.
Short version: People aren't animals, animals often aren't even animals when it comes to stereotypical dominance hierarchies, men's success shouldn't require women's failure, and the author's planet does not comprehend the strange human concept we call "love."
(Oh, and gay people don't exist. Gay people never exist in this kind of article. Poly people neither and in a weird way, contentedly single people least of all.)
But there was one thing I wanted to address because I've seen this same idea several places, feminist and non:
...the overwhelmingly female-staffed professions of education and health care have been relatively insulated... some economics experts think that women are better suited to the new "knowledge economy," in which such traits as sensitivity, intuition, and collaboration are valued over typically Alpha jockeying-for-power games.
Women don't become teachers and nurses because we're fuzzy-wuzzy soft touches for the adorable kiddies and sickies. (And anyone who thinks there aren't elaborate and vicious power games in education and healthcare hasn't spent enough time in either system.) We don't take those jobs because we're super good at niceness and whatever "intuition" is supposed to mean. Sometimes we take them because they're sort of traditionally female roles so it's easier for us to get hired and fit in, but that's not even the main reason.
What do teaching and nursing really have in common? They have flexible hours. Teachers work school hours and get the summer off; nurses are in high demand and every institution has a different weird scheduling system so nurses have a lot of choice in what hours they work. And both jobs, being part of massive institutions, tend to come with decent benefits.
And all this matters because women are much more likely to be the primary caregivers for children. The nurses I've worked with weren't there because of some uniquely feminine love of healing; they were there because they could get a shift that didn't start until their husband got home to watch the kids, or that ended before the afterschool programs did.
My own job is about 80% male. Is this because it's action-oriented, physically demanding, sometimes scary, and requires operating a big clunky truck? Not really. It's because none of the shifts are compatible with caring for young children and the pay is too low to afford childcare. (Unless you have a partner who can cover for you, which is more and more often the case. But that's what this article would call the terrible decline of the alpha male.)
Of course women can be sensitive, of course we can enjoy taking care of people. But so can men. It's not like male nurses are hopelessly gruff or female nurses can't be huge jerks (try coming to the ER at 3 AM with a complaint of "I've had a sorta scratchy throat for the last two weeks" and see how much you get nurtured). The reason there are more "alpha males" than females isn't in our fuzzyhuggy instincts; it's because power-gaming pack-dominant brave-hunter men are less likely to need to get off work before little Timmy gets home.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Tube tying.
A reader sent me a link to this comic, apparently approvingly.
(Further scrutiny of this webcomic reveals certain problematic elements. Also sometimes it seems a little too autobiographical. But at least it's, um, brilliantly written and politically trenchant.)
The idea of people getting sterilized young gives me the heebie-jeebies. I have no problem with people not having kids, of course, but committing to it in your early twenties seems like a bad idea. A lot changes in life. When you're that young you just don't know how your circumstances or your partner or even your own beliefs might change over time. In the last five years, I can trace my own progression from snide liberal to snide libertarian, and from reluctant Jew to snotty atheist to eclectic pantheist. If you told me at 18 that someday I was going to own guns and sometimes vote Republican, I would've told you to fuck off. And if you handed me a paper to sign giving all my future votes to the Democrats, in perpetuity... I might have signed it.
I'm going to change more in my future. Right now I think I want kids but not until I'm in my thirties, or somehow "established" in a home, relationship, and career. I may change my mind. I may never have kids; not getting sterilized is hardly a commitment to breed, after all. Whatever happens, I may--no, I will--be a different person in the future. I don't want to destroy something that may turn out to be very important to Future Holly.
I also worry about the influence of the whole "childfree" movement, which is a freaky, freaky thing. It's this loose Internet society of people who don't want kids. But since it would be boring to sit around going "how's it going? still no kids? me either. good deal." all day, it warps into this weird vicious circlejerk in which they hate kids and hate parents and love abortion and love joking about horrible things happening to children. And of course they also love sterilization. And childfree-ers who get sterilized get the accolade of the community and get to feel like they really belong to the movement and they're living their ideals.
And then they grow out of it, right on schedule like they grew out of the Harry Potter communities, and they don't get their reproductive systems back. I don't think everyone who doesn't want kids "grows out of it," of course, but I think childfree-pride flag-wavers do. Or god, I hope they do.
I'm going to be a lot of different people, and they all have to share one uterus. It's only common decency not to mess it up.
EDIT: I'm going to do something unprecedented on the Internet and change my mind. People have the right to do any damnfool thong they want to their bodies, and it's not the medical establishment's job to make reproductive decisions for patients. However, I still think it's a very bad idea for a very young person with no medical problems to be sterilized.
Also I still think capital-C Childfree people are bugnuts. Although now I'm a little afraid to say that because those crazy fucks love them some online harassment. Just keep it online, kids.
(Further scrutiny of this webcomic reveals certain problematic elements. Also sometimes it seems a little too autobiographical. But at least it's, um, brilliantly written and politically trenchant.)
The idea of people getting sterilized young gives me the heebie-jeebies. I have no problem with people not having kids, of course, but committing to it in your early twenties seems like a bad idea. A lot changes in life. When you're that young you just don't know how your circumstances or your partner or even your own beliefs might change over time. In the last five years, I can trace my own progression from snide liberal to snide libertarian, and from reluctant Jew to snotty atheist to eclectic pantheist. If you told me at 18 that someday I was going to own guns and sometimes vote Republican, I would've told you to fuck off. And if you handed me a paper to sign giving all my future votes to the Democrats, in perpetuity... I might have signed it.
I'm going to change more in my future. Right now I think I want kids but not until I'm in my thirties, or somehow "established" in a home, relationship, and career. I may change my mind. I may never have kids; not getting sterilized is hardly a commitment to breed, after all. Whatever happens, I may--no, I will--be a different person in the future. I don't want to destroy something that may turn out to be very important to Future Holly.
I also worry about the influence of the whole "childfree" movement, which is a freaky, freaky thing. It's this loose Internet society of people who don't want kids. But since it would be boring to sit around going "how's it going? still no kids? me either. good deal." all day, it warps into this weird vicious circlejerk in which they hate kids and hate parents and love abortion and love joking about horrible things happening to children. And of course they also love sterilization. And childfree-ers who get sterilized get the accolade of the community and get to feel like they really belong to the movement and they're living their ideals.
And then they grow out of it, right on schedule like they grew out of the Harry Potter communities, and they don't get their reproductive systems back. I don't think everyone who doesn't want kids "grows out of it," of course, but I think childfree-pride flag-wavers do. Or god, I hope they do.
I'm going to be a lot of different people, and they all have to share one uterus. It's only common decency not to mess it up.
EDIT: I'm going to do something unprecedented on the Internet and change my mind. People have the right to do any damnfool thong they want to their bodies, and it's not the medical establishment's job to make reproductive decisions for patients. However, I still think it's a very bad idea for a very young person with no medical problems to be sterilized.
Also I still think capital-C Childfree people are bugnuts. Although now I'm a little afraid to say that because those crazy fucks love them some online harassment. Just keep it online, kids.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Figleaf!
Today I met Figleaf and I'm about to go out but I just wanted to mention that he is a fascinating person and runs a fascinating blog and you should read it.
(Also, unrelated to anything: I got my ears pierced a second time today, specifically so I could wear two rings in each ear like Buffy. Because I'm that kind of geek.)
(Also, unrelated to anything: I got my ears pierced a second time today, specifically so I could wear two rings in each ear like Buffy. Because I'm that kind of geek.)
Monday, August 10, 2009
Sometimes the Internet makes me angry.
Sometimes the Internet makes me so mad. There's a blog post that pisses me off and it just sends me down a chain reaction of posts from other idiots, a never-ending idiot spiral and I read it all and I just want to physically fight the authors. Proving them wrong would be pointless, it's trivially obvious that they're wrong and that they'd never listen. Even linking them is pointless; their writing is too blatantly wrong to learn anything from and hostile comments would only give them self-righteousness. Hell, even punching them would just give them a nice martyr complex and a good post on "clearly she couldn't make any logical arguments against me..."
As I said, it's no specific idiot that's bothering me here. This guy, I guess, but I got to him via a link from an idiot and I left him via a link to an idiot, so he's not that special. Just sort of slightly more egregious, I guess? (Only one comment: he wants a woman who loves anal but who doesn't swear? Seriously now.)
Anyway, I'm no longer annoyed at what these guys say; I'm annoyed that I wasted my own time. I pay for my Internet connection, and I have limited time to use it, so I really shouldn't waste it on things that don't make me happy and don't teach me anything.
I should waste it instead in reporting that Benny (not a new character, but I'm revamping my pseudonyms; I'll fix up the archives soon) gave me an orgasm just from my breasts! Which is not precisely new because it happened once or twice when I was a teenager, but it's been a few years. He'd just fucked me the regular way and I was in that ecstatic state where my whole skin is hypersensitive, where I'm desperate to cuddle and kiss not just for fuzzyhuggy reasons but because skin contact feels so fucking good.
He put his whole mouth over my breast, not teasing but fucking eating it, his mouth hot and wet and not holding back on the teeth, and I moaned. He rolled me over onto my stomach and lay on top of me with his hands reaching around to my breasts and just squeezed and worked them, not gently, and it felt amazing. More than amazing, he kept at it forcefully and the feeling reached a peak and then I couldn't even tolerate any more and I realized I had just come. I was panting and my breasts were flushed and tender as I rolled back over, and I think he was a little amazed.
As I said, it's no specific idiot that's bothering me here. This guy, I guess, but I got to him via a link from an idiot and I left him via a link to an idiot, so he's not that special. Just sort of slightly more egregious, I guess? (Only one comment: he wants a woman who loves anal but who doesn't swear? Seriously now.)
Anyway, I'm no longer annoyed at what these guys say; I'm annoyed that I wasted my own time. I pay for my Internet connection, and I have limited time to use it, so I really shouldn't waste it on things that don't make me happy and don't teach me anything.
I should waste it instead in reporting that Benny (not a new character, but I'm revamping my pseudonyms; I'll fix up the archives soon) gave me an orgasm just from my breasts! Which is not precisely new because it happened once or twice when I was a teenager, but it's been a few years. He'd just fucked me the regular way and I was in that ecstatic state where my whole skin is hypersensitive, where I'm desperate to cuddle and kiss not just for fuzzyhuggy reasons but because skin contact feels so fucking good.
He put his whole mouth over my breast, not teasing but fucking eating it, his mouth hot and wet and not holding back on the teeth, and I moaned. He rolled me over onto my stomach and lay on top of me with his hands reaching around to my breasts and just squeezed and worked them, not gently, and it felt amazing. More than amazing, he kept at it forcefully and the feeling reached a peak and then I couldn't even tolerate any more and I realized I had just come. I was panting and my breasts were flushed and tender as I rolled back over, and I think he was a little amazed.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
I don't like sex, so I guess no one must!
Bruno sent me this rather depressing link on a woman who doesn't have sex with her husband and is here to spread the word that not having sex is faaabulous.
Now, I've got nothing against sexless marriage if both partners agree, to each your own and if that's your kink. But the article has some hints that this situation is, ah, not entirely straight up.
She admits she stays in her sexless relationship for the sake of her children, aged nine and 11, and will remain celibate until the day they are grown up and she feels able to leave. At which point, she confesses, she will probably abandon her husband and begin a sexual odyssey to find the satisfaction that eludes her.
Okay, so she doesn't have a low libido--she just doesn't want to fuck her husband. (And is saying so in a place that her husband and kids can read.)
"In the meantime, I want to tell other women that they are not alone in not wanting to have sex with their long-term partners. I don't think it's possible to maintain the passion of the initial chase. But it doesn't mean you won't experience those feelings again with someone else."
Hey, she's certainly not alone in being unable to have long-term sexual relationships. I wish someone would tell her that the entire world doesn't think that way, though.
But Carrie goes one step further. She believes that marriage and motherhood are simply not conducive to having a sex life at all.
"Providing a stable home for children is totally incompatible with having an exciting sex life. The two things are violently at odds," she adds.
I don't have kids, but what? It's incompatible with having an unlimited sex life, obviously your days of doing it on the kitchen table every morning are at an end, but Jesus, I'm pretty sure you can still figure out how to have sex occasionally if you want it.
Also, "a stable home"? I understand people saying kids tire and stress them too much for sex, but it's not like having sex is going to make you lose your job or get evicted... is it? Jesus, what kind of sex are we talking about here?
Well, sex with someone besides her husband, clearly. Which means her situation isn't unique, but it's not one of disappointment with sex itself, just with poor Hal. "I wanted a divorce but didn't for the sake of the kids" is a pretty common situation, she's right, but it's really not about sex.
The couple still share a bed, though physical contact is strictly off limits. "We've never discussed the demise of our sex life," she says.
Ouch.
Unbelievably, her poor, unsuspecting husband is not only unaware of her plans to leave him. He also, she insists, has no idea that she has written a book or posed for these pictures. She seems as confident of him not finding out as she is that he is understanding of her feelings.
OUCH. This is either a publicity lie or it's going to end really, really badly.
"Children need to be brought up by parents in a monogamous marriage. I wouldn't want to blow that apart, and I certainly wouldn't want the burden of being a single parent. I know from taking the kids on holiday on my own once when Hal was working that having sole responsibility for them is exhausting."
Jesus, that's lazy. I can understand wanting your kids to have two parents, or not wanting to separate a father from his children, but she seems more concerned about all the work she'd have to do otherwise.
So what of her sexual history? It seems that Carrie wasn't always this uninterested in sex. She admits to having 23 lovers before she married. "Ten were proper boyfriends," she recalls. "I regretted having sex with six of them, loved three of them but only one of the 23 ever gave me an orgasm.
Digression: I've heard other stories from women who only orgasmed with a tiny percentage of guys and I don't entirely understand it. It seems like if you're capable of orgasm you'd be having them all over the place, right? Maybe if you take a lot of work some guys will never bother, but more than 1/23rd will put in the effort. Is it some mystical connection that sloppy old anyone-orgasmers like me can never understand?
Carrie admits that part of her envies those authors who claim to be having lots of sex and, more significantly, love it. The other part of her just doesn't believe them. "I do wonder if they are just writing what they think the audience wants to hear," she says. "I read their accounts of wild sex lives and then ponder my own sexual encounters and wonder: 'Where was the fun, the screaming ecstasy, the fireworks?'"
Well, honey, you're sexually dysfuctional and kind of a terrible person. But trust me, the entire world isn't. You think no one has screaming ecstasy from sex? Just ask my downstairs neighbors. (Hell, ask my neighbors three blocks away.)
I have no problem with someone being in a sexless marriage. Someone being in a sexless, communicationless, desperate-to-cheat marriage with absolutely no remorse or insight... that's a little more unsettling.
Now, I've got nothing against sexless marriage if both partners agree, to each your own and if that's your kink. But the article has some hints that this situation is, ah, not entirely straight up.
She admits she stays in her sexless relationship for the sake of her children, aged nine and 11, and will remain celibate until the day they are grown up and she feels able to leave. At which point, she confesses, she will probably abandon her husband and begin a sexual odyssey to find the satisfaction that eludes her.
Okay, so she doesn't have a low libido--she just doesn't want to fuck her husband. (And is saying so in a place that her husband and kids can read.)
"In the meantime, I want to tell other women that they are not alone in not wanting to have sex with their long-term partners. I don't think it's possible to maintain the passion of the initial chase. But it doesn't mean you won't experience those feelings again with someone else."
Hey, she's certainly not alone in being unable to have long-term sexual relationships. I wish someone would tell her that the entire world doesn't think that way, though.
But Carrie goes one step further. She believes that marriage and motherhood are simply not conducive to having a sex life at all.
"Providing a stable home for children is totally incompatible with having an exciting sex life. The two things are violently at odds," she adds.
I don't have kids, but what? It's incompatible with having an unlimited sex life, obviously your days of doing it on the kitchen table every morning are at an end, but Jesus, I'm pretty sure you can still figure out how to have sex occasionally if you want it.
Also, "a stable home"? I understand people saying kids tire and stress them too much for sex, but it's not like having sex is going to make you lose your job or get evicted... is it? Jesus, what kind of sex are we talking about here?
Well, sex with someone besides her husband, clearly. Which means her situation isn't unique, but it's not one of disappointment with sex itself, just with poor Hal. "I wanted a divorce but didn't for the sake of the kids" is a pretty common situation, she's right, but it's really not about sex.
The couple still share a bed, though physical contact is strictly off limits. "We've never discussed the demise of our sex life," she says.
Ouch.
Unbelievably, her poor, unsuspecting husband is not only unaware of her plans to leave him. He also, she insists, has no idea that she has written a book or posed for these pictures. She seems as confident of him not finding out as she is that he is understanding of her feelings.
OUCH. This is either a publicity lie or it's going to end really, really badly.
"Children need to be brought up by parents in a monogamous marriage. I wouldn't want to blow that apart, and I certainly wouldn't want the burden of being a single parent. I know from taking the kids on holiday on my own once when Hal was working that having sole responsibility for them is exhausting."
Jesus, that's lazy. I can understand wanting your kids to have two parents, or not wanting to separate a father from his children, but she seems more concerned about all the work she'd have to do otherwise.
So what of her sexual history? It seems that Carrie wasn't always this uninterested in sex. She admits to having 23 lovers before she married. "Ten were proper boyfriends," she recalls. "I regretted having sex with six of them, loved three of them but only one of the 23 ever gave me an orgasm.
Digression: I've heard other stories from women who only orgasmed with a tiny percentage of guys and I don't entirely understand it. It seems like if you're capable of orgasm you'd be having them all over the place, right? Maybe if you take a lot of work some guys will never bother, but more than 1/23rd will put in the effort. Is it some mystical connection that sloppy old anyone-orgasmers like me can never understand?
Carrie admits that part of her envies those authors who claim to be having lots of sex and, more significantly, love it. The other part of her just doesn't believe them. "I do wonder if they are just writing what they think the audience wants to hear," she says. "I read their accounts of wild sex lives and then ponder my own sexual encounters and wonder: 'Where was the fun, the screaming ecstasy, the fireworks?'"
Well, honey, you're sexually dysfuctional and kind of a terrible person. But trust me, the entire world isn't. You think no one has screaming ecstasy from sex? Just ask my downstairs neighbors. (Hell, ask my neighbors three blocks away.)
I have no problem with someone being in a sexless marriage. Someone being in a sexless, communicationless, desperate-to-cheat marriage with absolutely no remorse or insight... that's a little more unsettling.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Sexy and sex.
More on the total independence between sexy and sexual: compare these four websites. (All but the first are fairly NWS.)
Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab - Selling nonsex without sex.
Yves Saint Laurent Parfum - Selling nonsex with sex.
Hustler Lingerie - Selling sex with sex.
Blowfish - Selling sex without sex.
It's the last one that's most interesting to me. Blowfish sells sex toys, porn, lube, condoms, and they do it without a single eyelinered model pouting at the camera. They just tell you what they've got and why you might like it; any titillation is going to come from the products, not the advertising.
I don't want to say the Blowfish's marketing is better than Hustler's, somehow more moral; that's Puritan thinking. But it's more comfortable for me that to no one's trying to engage me sexually while I'm just trying to shop. And it avoids the awkwardness of looking at something that's supposed to be sexy but is aimed at different preferences from my own. And the pressure to be sexy in the same way as the models, which would never work for my body and personality.
I think the confusion between sexy and sexual impedes public discourse on sexuality; we get the feeling sometimes that the discourse itself is a sexual act. That teaching, talking, voting about sexual issues might turn people on, and that would make it wrong and creepy even to have the discussion. I'm taking an anatomy class and on Reproductive System Day a room full of grown working adults collapsed into awkward giggles multiple times--not because it's that funny but because talking about private parts in public feels uncomfortably close to airing out your own sexuality in class. With hearts we measured each other's pulse and output; with penises and vaginas we tried very hard to talk as if none of us had anything like that. Admitting I have a vagina is a little too close to showing it to everyone, and that would be icky.
Sexy has its place and it's not just the bedroom. Sexiness livens up entertainment and socialization and dancing and dating and life. And even advertising sometimes. But sexiness doesn't need to follow everywhere sex goes. Being able to separate sexiness from sexuality is crucial to talking about our... tee-hee, you know, thingies... like goddamn grownups.
Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab - Selling nonsex without sex.
Yves Saint Laurent Parfum - Selling nonsex with sex.
Hustler Lingerie - Selling sex with sex.
Blowfish - Selling sex without sex.
It's the last one that's most interesting to me. Blowfish sells sex toys, porn, lube, condoms, and they do it without a single eyelinered model pouting at the camera. They just tell you what they've got and why you might like it; any titillation is going to come from the products, not the advertising.
I don't want to say the Blowfish's marketing is better than Hustler's, somehow more moral; that's Puritan thinking. But it's more comfortable for me that to no one's trying to engage me sexually while I'm just trying to shop. And it avoids the awkwardness of looking at something that's supposed to be sexy but is aimed at different preferences from my own. And the pressure to be sexy in the same way as the models, which would never work for my body and personality.
I think the confusion between sexy and sexual impedes public discourse on sexuality; we get the feeling sometimes that the discourse itself is a sexual act. That teaching, talking, voting about sexual issues might turn people on, and that would make it wrong and creepy even to have the discussion. I'm taking an anatomy class and on Reproductive System Day a room full of grown working adults collapsed into awkward giggles multiple times--not because it's that funny but because talking about private parts in public feels uncomfortably close to airing out your own sexuality in class. With hearts we measured each other's pulse and output; with penises and vaginas we tried very hard to talk as if none of us had anything like that. Admitting I have a vagina is a little too close to showing it to everyone, and that would be icky.
Sexy has its place and it's not just the bedroom. Sexiness livens up entertainment and socialization and dancing and dating and life. And even advertising sometimes. But sexiness doesn't need to follow everywhere sex goes. Being able to separate sexiness from sexuality is crucial to talking about our... tee-hee, you know, thingies... like goddamn grownups.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Jersey Swap.
Sexy men in mainstream advertising always make me happy. I think I'm going to make it a category.
Somehow this feels wrong... (Sort of work-safe; PG but features manflesh and seedy porn music.)
Somehow this feels wrong... (Sort of work-safe; PG but features manflesh and seedy porn music.)
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Everyone already knows how to lose.
Does it really matter what obviously doesn't work in online dating? This blog would be getting me a hell of a lot more fame 'n' fortune if I knew what does. Fame 'n' fortune 'n' men with no shirts on.
But douchebaggery is entertaining, so everyone, meet John Fitzgerald Page! He's briefly been in the same room with Dick Cheney, he's been an extra or even unnamed bit part in fourteen films, and, most importantly, he has an 8.9 on HotorNot! That's, like, almost a 9!
Also, he can "bench/squat/leg press over 1200 lbs.," which means that he is either The Incredible Hulk, he's adding his amounts together (hey, I can bench/squat/leg press/clean and jerk/bicep curl/deadlift/military press over 1200 lbs.!), or blah blah blah and he's also the crown prince of Unicornland.
But douchebaggery is entertaining, so everyone, meet John Fitzgerald Page! He's briefly been in the same room with Dick Cheney, he's been an extra or even unnamed bit part in fourteen films, and, most importantly, he has an 8.9 on HotorNot! That's, like, almost a 9!
Also, he can "bench/squat/leg press over 1200 lbs.," which means that he is either The Incredible Hulk, he's adding his amounts together (hey, I can bench/squat/leg press/clean and jerk/bicep curl/deadlift/military press over 1200 lbs.!), or blah blah blah and he's also the crown prince of Unicornland.
Friday, May 1, 2009
It's so nice out!
It's the first of May. And I think we all know what that means.
Outdoor fuckin' starts today!
I have a brand new actual date tonight (I had a couple lame ones I didn't even mention, but this one is promising) and if all goes well we should definitely find somewhere to take it outdoors. I love outdoor sex, it's like being in summer camp!
...I mean, not that I ever had sex in summer camp, but it's all happy and wildernessy with bright sun and good earth smells, you know.
Outdoor fuckin' starts today!
I have a brand new actual date tonight (I had a couple lame ones I didn't even mention, but this one is promising) and if all goes well we should definitely find somewhere to take it outdoors. I love outdoor sex, it's like being in summer camp!
...I mean, not that I ever had sex in summer camp, but it's all happy and wildernessy with bright sun and good earth smells, you know.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Softer.
Right now A Softer World is where my head's at.
Stuff like this and this is almost beautiful in its pretentious Canadian webcomic way.
I wish there were ways to arrange a quick seedy hug job. I'd do it with anyone.
Stuff like this and this is almost beautiful in its pretentious Canadian webcomic way.
I wish there were ways to arrange a quick seedy hug job. I'd do it with anyone.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Twilight.
(Spoilers. If you care, stop reading this blog, it's for people over 18.)
Last night, (for shits and giggles with a couple of hard-core horror fans who mocked and howled the whole way through) I saw Twilight. It's a terrible movie in so many ways--if Our Vampires Are so Different that the sun just makes them sparkly and they don't hurt people, why is it even a bad thing to be super-strong and immortal?--okay, and why the fuck are they attending high school?--but I really just want to talk about the sexual politics.
I had heard that Twilight was "the one with the abstinence vampires," but that's not painfully explicit in the movie. It's true Edward and Bella don't fuck, but they don't make a big deal about "hey look at us we're not fucking" so whatever, it's not objectionable. There is one scene where they're making out on her bed and he suddenly leaps back with a horrified "I can't control myself," but it's not clear whether he's talking about sex or vamping out so, again, okay.
(Perhaps he was afraid of turning into Edwardus. Man, Buffy did it all so much better.)
Following in the grand tradition of vampire literature since... pretty much always, biting is the real sex. And a good 75% of the movie is Edward either saying or twitchily emoting that he really really wants to bite Bella. In fact, he straight up says that the reason he's attracted to Bella is that he wants to bite her. (It sure ain't her personality. The high school is full of people being friendly and accepting to her and she invariably grunts at them and wanders away mid-conversation.) Oh, but he mustn't.
Which is where the metaphor breaks down. Biting is a one-sided pleasure that destroys the passive partner. There's no safe biting, no consensual biting, no maturing and becoming ready for biting. Most importantly, there's no mutual biting. "Boys/vampires have to exercise restraint so that they don't selfishly take advantage of girls/victims by biting/fucking them" is a problematic message in so many ways.
Creepily, I think Edward's agonizing self-restraint is what's supposed to make him so dreamy. The movie sure plays all the scenes of him going "want... mustn't... ngghh... want... but I won't!" as money shots--the film climaxes with him denying yet another blood-drinking temptation--and I have a feeling that this is where teenage girls are meant to swoon. "Oooh, he's so repressed! There's a man who'd never allow himself to enjoy the things he desires! So romantic!"
I guess, in some bizarre way, the idea is to make abstinence--metaphorical and literal--sexy. To make a sex symbol out of a guy who won't fuck you. "I wish my boyfriend tormentedly refused to touch me!"
My only hope is that whatever Stephanie Meyer intended, the teenage fans' real motivation is "I'd totally crack that nut."
Also, Edward is just a plain ol' creep. He's supposed to be about 108 years old, but apparently he hasn't done anything with the last 107 of them. He's still attending high school classes, for Chrissakes, and he seems to have all the life experience and emotional maturity you'd expect of a 15-year-old. He falls in love with Bella about a week after meeting her and is teenagerishly obsessive and dramatic about it. You'd think a 108-year-old would've been around the block a bit more than that.
At one point quite early in their relationship, Bella wakes up and Edward is in her bedroom watching her sleep. Um, creeeepy. (Also, how'd he get in without an invitation? DAMMIT STEPHANIE MEYER WHAT KIND OF CRAPPY VAMPIRES ARE THESE ANYWAY.) Several times he follows her around for no damn reason, and several times he more or less kidnaps her. I don't require all my fictional characters to be moral paragons, but nonetheless I'm disturbed by the idea that Edward is being held up as the ideal teenage boyfriend.
Girls, girls! The awkward, broody older guy who follows you around and starts saying "I can't live without you" stuff in the first week is not dreamy! He is a Level III Offender. Don't get in the van.
P.S.: An unnamed accomplice who is a Pacific Northwest Native would like to add that he is not "descended from wolves," does not have a wolf or any other "totem spirit," that American Indian mythology does not consist of "anything you want to make up as long as it sounds naturey," and that American Indians are not, in fact, adorable woodland creatures that exist for your amusement.
Last night, (for shits and giggles with a couple of hard-core horror fans who mocked and howled the whole way through) I saw Twilight. It's a terrible movie in so many ways--if Our Vampires Are so Different that the sun just makes them sparkly and they don't hurt people, why is it even a bad thing to be super-strong and immortal?--okay, and why the fuck are they attending high school?--but I really just want to talk about the sexual politics.
I had heard that Twilight was "the one with the abstinence vampires," but that's not painfully explicit in the movie. It's true Edward and Bella don't fuck, but they don't make a big deal about "hey look at us we're not fucking" so whatever, it's not objectionable. There is one scene where they're making out on her bed and he suddenly leaps back with a horrified "I can't control myself," but it's not clear whether he's talking about sex or vamping out so, again, okay.
(Perhaps he was afraid of turning into Edwardus. Man, Buffy did it all so much better.)
Following in the grand tradition of vampire literature since... pretty much always, biting is the real sex. And a good 75% of the movie is Edward either saying or twitchily emoting that he really really wants to bite Bella. In fact, he straight up says that the reason he's attracted to Bella is that he wants to bite her. (It sure ain't her personality. The high school is full of people being friendly and accepting to her and she invariably grunts at them and wanders away mid-conversation.) Oh, but he mustn't.
Which is where the metaphor breaks down. Biting is a one-sided pleasure that destroys the passive partner. There's no safe biting, no consensual biting, no maturing and becoming ready for biting. Most importantly, there's no mutual biting. "Boys/vampires have to exercise restraint so that they don't selfishly take advantage of girls/victims by biting/fucking them" is a problematic message in so many ways.
Creepily, I think Edward's agonizing self-restraint is what's supposed to make him so dreamy. The movie sure plays all the scenes of him going "want... mustn't... ngghh... want... but I won't!" as money shots--the film climaxes with him denying yet another blood-drinking temptation--and I have a feeling that this is where teenage girls are meant to swoon. "Oooh, he's so repressed! There's a man who'd never allow himself to enjoy the things he desires! So romantic!"
I guess, in some bizarre way, the idea is to make abstinence--metaphorical and literal--sexy. To make a sex symbol out of a guy who won't fuck you. "I wish my boyfriend tormentedly refused to touch me!"
My only hope is that whatever Stephanie Meyer intended, the teenage fans' real motivation is "I'd totally crack that nut."
Also, Edward is just a plain ol' creep. He's supposed to be about 108 years old, but apparently he hasn't done anything with the last 107 of them. He's still attending high school classes, for Chrissakes, and he seems to have all the life experience and emotional maturity you'd expect of a 15-year-old. He falls in love with Bella about a week after meeting her and is teenagerishly obsessive and dramatic about it. You'd think a 108-year-old would've been around the block a bit more than that.
At one point quite early in their relationship, Bella wakes up and Edward is in her bedroom watching her sleep. Um, creeeepy. (Also, how'd he get in without an invitation? DAMMIT STEPHANIE MEYER WHAT KIND OF CRAPPY VAMPIRES ARE THESE ANYWAY.) Several times he follows her around for no damn reason, and several times he more or less kidnaps her. I don't require all my fictional characters to be moral paragons, but nonetheless I'm disturbed by the idea that Edward is being held up as the ideal teenage boyfriend.
Girls, girls! The awkward, broody older guy who follows you around and starts saying "I can't live without you" stuff in the first week is not dreamy! He is a Level III Offender. Don't get in the van.
P.S.: An unnamed accomplice who is a Pacific Northwest Native would like to add that he is not "descended from wolves," does not have a wolf or any other "totem spirit," that American Indian mythology does not consist of "anything you want to make up as long as it sounds naturey," and that American Indians are not, in fact, adorable woodland creatures that exist for your amusement.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Articles people sent me.
[previous post deleted because upon further consideration, I was wrong]
George Will: Prudes at Dinner, Gluttons in Bed
The gist of this article is that Americans are getting more uptight about food as we get sluttier. It's not actually true--most people I know (and let's face it, in the absence of an actual study or survey all of these type of articles are really just about people the author knows) eat processed goo and have monogamous relationships--but let's not trouble ourselves too much with that.
I'm more bothered by the implication that this would be a bad thing. Will seems to be writing as if food and sex are equally evil. I'd say that neither is evil at all, but as far as physical harm, well... there's no way to have safe cake.
In 1965, the Moynihan Report sounded an alarm about 23.6 percent of African American children born out of wedlock. Today the figure for the entire American population is 38.5 percent, and 70.7 percent for African Americans.
So? I was born out of wedlock. My parents lived together and raised me jointly for eighteen years, but they weren't married. My roommate was also born out of wedlock, and her dad didn't stick around--her mom did a great job raising her and she's turned out just fine. "Out of wedlock" doesn't always mean unwanted, neglected, or on welfare; and it doesn't ever mean doomed.
(Also, psst, your racism is showing.)
Alas, expiration is written into the leases we have on our bodies, so bon appetit.
Well jeez, if we're playing the "you're gonna die anyway" game, I might as well have some fun on my way to the grave, so bonne baise!
BitchBuzz: Gamestop Thinks Women Know Nothing About Gaming
Honestly, this one would bother me more if Gamestop showed any particular care for their male customers either. But it's just a shitty store that combines horrible selection with gouge prices and obnoxious marketing no matter what gender you are. Thirty bucks for a scratched used disk with no case and then the cashier does three mandatory upsell attempts...
That said, even allowing for some sarcasm, a "safari" theme is perhaps not the wisest way to discuss female customers. I mean, cripes, there've gotta be some female Gamestop employees, and they must've felt awkward as hell watching this.
Brown Sugar: Pussy is Not the Greatest Gift You Can Give a Man
Preach it, sister.
There's only one sentence in the article I'd quibble with:
No one knows what’s best for you and your sex life then you do.
(Hmm, that's not very grammatical. Two quibbles.) I agree that no one else knows better than me, but frankly: I don't know what the hell I'm doing! There's no grand master plan to this shit! I don't know that I'd be happier monogamous or polyamorous or married or 90-day-ruling or virginal! I just... do things. I mean, things that seem okay at the time, but it's really some insane combination of what I want, what various guys want, my mood at the microsecond, whether I had chili for lunch, the confluence of random influences and opportunities, and eeny meeny miney moe.
I'm in charge of my own sex life, no question about that, but just because I can steer this thing doesn't mean I have any damn idea where I'm driving it.
George Will: Prudes at Dinner, Gluttons in Bed
The gist of this article is that Americans are getting more uptight about food as we get sluttier. It's not actually true--most people I know (and let's face it, in the absence of an actual study or survey all of these type of articles are really just about people the author knows) eat processed goo and have monogamous relationships--but let's not trouble ourselves too much with that.
I'm more bothered by the implication that this would be a bad thing. Will seems to be writing as if food and sex are equally evil. I'd say that neither is evil at all, but as far as physical harm, well... there's no way to have safe cake.
In 1965, the Moynihan Report sounded an alarm about 23.6 percent of African American children born out of wedlock. Today the figure for the entire American population is 38.5 percent, and 70.7 percent for African Americans.
So? I was born out of wedlock. My parents lived together and raised me jointly for eighteen years, but they weren't married. My roommate was also born out of wedlock, and her dad didn't stick around--her mom did a great job raising her and she's turned out just fine. "Out of wedlock" doesn't always mean unwanted, neglected, or on welfare; and it doesn't ever mean doomed.
(Also, psst, your racism is showing.)
Alas, expiration is written into the leases we have on our bodies, so bon appetit.
Well jeez, if we're playing the "you're gonna die anyway" game, I might as well have some fun on my way to the grave, so bonne baise!
BitchBuzz: Gamestop Thinks Women Know Nothing About Gaming
Honestly, this one would bother me more if Gamestop showed any particular care for their male customers either. But it's just a shitty store that combines horrible selection with gouge prices and obnoxious marketing no matter what gender you are. Thirty bucks for a scratched used disk with no case and then the cashier does three mandatory upsell attempts...
That said, even allowing for some sarcasm, a "safari" theme is perhaps not the wisest way to discuss female customers. I mean, cripes, there've gotta be some female Gamestop employees, and they must've felt awkward as hell watching this.
Brown Sugar: Pussy is Not the Greatest Gift You Can Give a Man
Preach it, sister.
There's only one sentence in the article I'd quibble with:
No one knows what’s best for you and your sex life then you do.
(Hmm, that's not very grammatical. Two quibbles.) I agree that no one else knows better than me, but frankly: I don't know what the hell I'm doing! There's no grand master plan to this shit! I don't know that I'd be happier monogamous or polyamorous or married or 90-day-ruling or virginal! I just... do things. I mean, things that seem okay at the time, but it's really some insane combination of what I want, what various guys want, my mood at the microsecond, whether I had chili for lunch, the confluence of random influences and opportunities, and eeny meeny miney moe.
I'm in charge of my own sex life, no question about that, but just because I can steer this thing doesn't mean I have any damn idea where I'm driving it.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Funding women's healthcare? Pah, you PATRIARCH, it means NOTHING if I don't get a pony!
Man, Twisty Faster is the freakin' queen of hating people who are on her side.
Sure we have the most liberal president in decades or possibly ever, but waaaahhh, he's not liberal enouuuuugh. He only rescinded the Gag Rule, he didn't reverse all of world culture and history in his first two weeks, wahhh.
I get that he didn’t want to stir up a big partisan whoop-dee-doo, but he either believes women are human or he doesn’t. If he does believe women are human, I wouldn’t mind if he called a press conference during drive time and declared it openly.
Uh... I think that actually kinda goes without saying, lady. And calling a press conference to declare this might come off just a teensy bit crazypants?
So it is perpetuated, this national myth that “we” — meaning “we dudes” — “protect” women by meting out little bits of empowerment here and there as we see fit. You know what? Fuck “protection.” And fuck “empowerment,” too.
You know what, Twisty? I'd rather be protected and have power than wail about semantics all day.
Don’t misunderstand me; I’m as super-pro-birth control as the next spinster aunt, but this rhetoric about “reducing unwanted pregnancies” continues to allow the argument — nay, even promotes the argument — that abortion is bad.
Well, it is. Abortion is painful, expensive, is liable to screw with your head emotionally, and no matter what the law says your family and partner may try or succeed in stopping you from getting one or punishing you for having one. None of this means it should be illegal--but it's not good. It's better than having an unwanted child--but much worse than just not getting pregnant in the first place.
The comments are, as usual, right off the deep end.
Sure we have the most liberal president in decades or possibly ever, but waaaahhh, he's not liberal enouuuuugh. He only rescinded the Gag Rule, he didn't reverse all of world culture and history in his first two weeks, wahhh.
I get that he didn’t want to stir up a big partisan whoop-dee-doo, but he either believes women are human or he doesn’t. If he does believe women are human, I wouldn’t mind if he called a press conference during drive time and declared it openly.
Uh... I think that actually kinda goes without saying, lady. And calling a press conference to declare this might come off just a teensy bit crazypants?
So it is perpetuated, this national myth that “we” — meaning “we dudes” — “protect” women by meting out little bits of empowerment here and there as we see fit. You know what? Fuck “protection.” And fuck “empowerment,” too.
You know what, Twisty? I'd rather be protected and have power than wail about semantics all day.
Don’t misunderstand me; I’m as super-pro-birth control as the next spinster aunt, but this rhetoric about “reducing unwanted pregnancies” continues to allow the argument — nay, even promotes the argument — that abortion is bad.
Well, it is. Abortion is painful, expensive, is liable to screw with your head emotionally, and no matter what the law says your family and partner may try or succeed in stopping you from getting one or punishing you for having one. None of this means it should be illegal--but it's not good. It's better than having an unwanted child--but much worse than just not getting pregnant in the first place.
The comments are, as usual, right off the deep end.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
What do women want?
The sexy blogosphere is dogpiling on this NYT article so I figure I'll join the party.
This article is about scientists. (Well, psychologists...) Being less scientific, or possibly just poor and lazy, I only use study groups of one. So I can tell you that what women want is to drive an ambulance at top speed on an off-roading track with lights and siren going and "Livin' On A Prayer" blasting. OHHH, WE'RE HALFWAY THERE! WAAAA-OHHHHH, LIVIN' ON A PRAYER!
Oh, what do women want sexually? I want to do that naked.
But according to the researcher Marta Meana in this article, what women want is to be desired. She believes that our sexual desire is triggered by being desired.
“Really,” she said, “women’s desire is not relational, it’s narcissistic” — it is dominated by the yearnings of “self-love,” by the wish to be the object of erotic admiration and sexual need.
I feel that this is utter stinkin' bullshit. I propose an alternate hypothesis: that women get horny the same way human beings do.
Most of the evidence Meana uses to support this theory seems to consist of generalizations with a heapin' helping of forced interpretation.
Porn and other "sexy" art displays more women than men? This must mean that women are turned on by thinking of themselves as the sexy naked woman!
Alternate possibility: Porn is made by straight men for straight men.
Women fantasize about receiving pleasure more than giving pleasure? This must mean that women are sexually narcissistic!
Alternate possibility: Receiving pleasure kicks ass. (Also, we do? I fantasize about giving pleasure lots!)
Women fantasize about rape? This must mean that we imagine the rapist is overcome with lust for us!
Alternate possibility: We want it to be rough and painful and wrong because we are dirty, dirty girls. (Also, this sort of goes completely against the previous point there.)
Women don't get as aroused after a long time in a relationship? This must mean that they don't feel their partner is actively choosing them each time!
Alternate possibility: He makes the same weird snuffly noise every damn time.
But what really offends me is this portion, and the suspicion I have that deep down she really believes this:
“What women want is a real dilemma,” she said. Earlier, she showed me, as a joke, a photograph of two control panels, one representing the workings of male desire, the second, female, the first with only a simple on-off switch, the second with countless knobs.
Goddamnit, this "Woman is a mystery" bullshit has got to cut the fuck out. Woman is human. Oh, and male desire isn't "hurr show 'im half a tit and 'es off to the races" either; ask any woman who's been married twenty years, not to mention countless younger people going through all sorts of sexual ups and downs and hangups. The idea that men are literally up for sex at any opportunity is a hoary joke, not something a sexual researcher should take literally. We're all complicated and neurotic and contradictory, man and woman alike. Fuck "what women want"; the real unanswered question is what the hell anybody wants.
Anyway, I can tell you what I want, other than the ambulance thing:
I want nerdy boys, I want pretty boys, I want boys with muscles and I want boys with spiky hair. I want gawky teenagers (eighteen! eighteen!) and I want Silver Foxes. I want boys with tattoos and I want boys with glasses. I want kinky boys and I want shy boys and I want romantic boys and more than anything I want horny boys.
And yes, I do want them to want me, but only so I can fuck the shit out of them.
This article is about scientists. (Well, psychologists...) Being less scientific, or possibly just poor and lazy, I only use study groups of one. So I can tell you that what women want is to drive an ambulance at top speed on an off-roading track with lights and siren going and "Livin' On A Prayer" blasting. OHHH, WE'RE HALFWAY THERE! WAAAA-OHHHHH, LIVIN' ON A PRAYER!
Oh, what do women want sexually? I want to do that naked.
But according to the researcher Marta Meana in this article, what women want is to be desired. She believes that our sexual desire is triggered by being desired.
“Really,” she said, “women’s desire is not relational, it’s narcissistic” — it is dominated by the yearnings of “self-love,” by the wish to be the object of erotic admiration and sexual need.
I feel that this is utter stinkin' bullshit. I propose an alternate hypothesis: that women get horny the same way human beings do.
Most of the evidence Meana uses to support this theory seems to consist of generalizations with a heapin' helping of forced interpretation.
Porn and other "sexy" art displays more women than men? This must mean that women are turned on by thinking of themselves as the sexy naked woman!
Alternate possibility: Porn is made by straight men for straight men.
Women fantasize about receiving pleasure more than giving pleasure? This must mean that women are sexually narcissistic!
Alternate possibility: Receiving pleasure kicks ass. (Also, we do? I fantasize about giving pleasure lots!)
Women fantasize about rape? This must mean that we imagine the rapist is overcome with lust for us!
Alternate possibility: We want it to be rough and painful and wrong because we are dirty, dirty girls. (Also, this sort of goes completely against the previous point there.)
Women don't get as aroused after a long time in a relationship? This must mean that they don't feel their partner is actively choosing them each time!
Alternate possibility: He makes the same weird snuffly noise every damn time.
But what really offends me is this portion, and the suspicion I have that deep down she really believes this:
“What women want is a real dilemma,” she said. Earlier, she showed me, as a joke, a photograph of two control panels, one representing the workings of male desire, the second, female, the first with only a simple on-off switch, the second with countless knobs.
Goddamnit, this "Woman is a mystery" bullshit has got to cut the fuck out. Woman is human. Oh, and male desire isn't "hurr show 'im half a tit and 'es off to the races" either; ask any woman who's been married twenty years, not to mention countless younger people going through all sorts of sexual ups and downs and hangups. The idea that men are literally up for sex at any opportunity is a hoary joke, not something a sexual researcher should take literally. We're all complicated and neurotic and contradictory, man and woman alike. Fuck "what women want"; the real unanswered question is what the hell anybody wants.
Anyway, I can tell you what I want, other than the ambulance thing:
I want nerdy boys, I want pretty boys, I want boys with muscles and I want boys with spiky hair. I want gawky teenagers (eighteen! eighteen!) and I want Silver Foxes. I want boys with tattoos and I want boys with glasses. I want kinky boys and I want shy boys and I want romantic boys and more than anything I want horny boys.
And yes, I do want them to want me, but only so I can fuck the shit out of them.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Content farming.
Sometimes--way too often--I think "I should go have sex with someone, so I'll have some juicy content for the blog."
Unfortunately for you, about a minute after that the common sense kicks in.
(I guess I could just read articles or something, but eh. Articles.)
EDIT: Here's some content, courtesy of Eurosabra on this post, and I'm not saying anything mean-spirited, I'm just quoting, so don't go rashly assuming I don't agree with him:
I am going to go with the snark and say that the average straight vanilla man *already* experiences femdom, with the woman deciding when, and where, and under what prior conditions of relationship expectations (or not), dating expectations (or not), etc. etc. I don't know if I'm seeing a gendered power relationship that ONLY reflects the educated Euro-American middle classes, but in my reality women are always negotiating only exactly the type of sex they want, with the men they want, utopia is already here, and I stop before this gets into the TMI zone.
Unfortunately for you, about a minute after that the common sense kicks in.
(I guess I could just read articles or something, but eh. Articles.)
EDIT: Here's some content, courtesy of Eurosabra on this post, and I'm not saying anything mean-spirited, I'm just quoting, so don't go rashly assuming I don't agree with him:
I am going to go with the snark and say that the average straight vanilla man *already* experiences femdom, with the woman deciding when, and where, and under what prior conditions of relationship expectations (or not), dating expectations (or not), etc. etc. I don't know if I'm seeing a gendered power relationship that ONLY reflects the educated Euro-American middle classes, but in my reality women are always negotiating only exactly the type of sex they want, with the men they want, utopia is already here, and I stop before this gets into the TMI zone.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Lube!
Shit, a whole week? I've been a very naughty blogger. I should be punished. Spanked. Made to tell you what a dirty dirty girl I am and touch myself in my bad places while you watch.
Anyway. Today I want to talk about lube!
I don't need lube for regular sex; I'm sadly not a squirter but I do get plenty juicy. But for the butt, for unreasonably large objects, for extended play, and for the occasional Mystery Juice Failure, there is lube!
The best lube in the world is, I believe, J-Lube. Because it's a power, you can vary the consistency from super-goopy to nearly-water, and one $10 bottle makes a million jillion gallons of lube. (Also, the whole vet-supply thing just makes it so naughty.) It has a really nice, ungreasy texture that's pretty similar to natural ladyjuices, and it's so slippery and so easy to get in copious amounts that it's the canonical fisting lube.
KY stings me. I don't know if this is just a personal idiosyncrasy/allergy, but anyway I can't use it.
Astroglide doesn't sting, but it never worked that well for me. It wears out in about five minutes and when it does it turns really really sticky.
Slippery Stuff Liquid isn't bad I guess, but it's kinda... subtle. Almost water. It's good for going from dry to wet, but if you need to go from wet to dripping, it's just not enough. I think it's okay for vaginal sex or maybe if you're experienced at anal, but nothing heavy-duty.
I heard a lot of people sing the praises of silicone lube, so I tried ID Millennium and it's got good points and bad points. Good: a tiny amount is soooo slippery and it lasts forever. Bad: it feels kinda greasy and it never goes away. If you spill a single drop anywhere it's a huge pain to clean up--it will not dry, it will not absorb--and even if you don't spill it stays on your hands and genitals for hours. This stuff would be great lube if only it came with an antidote.
(Also, you never heard me say this, but it works surprisingly well for styling your hair. Just a little bit gives such lovely shine and frizz control...)
The lube currently in my nightstand is Wet Gel Body Glide. I like it. It's long-lasting but easy to clean up, has a nice thick texture that can handle the tough jobs, doesn't get sticky at all, and it feels very... clean. If you're not yet at the point in your life where you're okay with buying your sex supplies from veterinary supply companies, this would be a good lube to use.
One piece of lube advice: use too much. I used to get in the habit of using just a couple drops and calling something "lubed" when it was coated all over, no matter how thinly. But it feels much, much better to get things wet as fuck. The correct adjective is not merely "slick" but "glorpy."
Anyway. Today I want to talk about lube!
I don't need lube for regular sex; I'm sadly not a squirter but I do get plenty juicy. But for the butt, for unreasonably large objects, for extended play, and for the occasional Mystery Juice Failure, there is lube!
The best lube in the world is, I believe, J-Lube. Because it's a power, you can vary the consistency from super-goopy to nearly-water, and one $10 bottle makes a million jillion gallons of lube. (Also, the whole vet-supply thing just makes it so naughty.) It has a really nice, ungreasy texture that's pretty similar to natural ladyjuices, and it's so slippery and so easy to get in copious amounts that it's the canonical fisting lube.
KY stings me. I don't know if this is just a personal idiosyncrasy/allergy, but anyway I can't use it.
Astroglide doesn't sting, but it never worked that well for me. It wears out in about five minutes and when it does it turns really really sticky.
Slippery Stuff Liquid isn't bad I guess, but it's kinda... subtle. Almost water. It's good for going from dry to wet, but if you need to go from wet to dripping, it's just not enough. I think it's okay for vaginal sex or maybe if you're experienced at anal, but nothing heavy-duty.
I heard a lot of people sing the praises of silicone lube, so I tried ID Millennium and it's got good points and bad points. Good: a tiny amount is soooo slippery and it lasts forever. Bad: it feels kinda greasy and it never goes away. If you spill a single drop anywhere it's a huge pain to clean up--it will not dry, it will not absorb--and even if you don't spill it stays on your hands and genitals for hours. This stuff would be great lube if only it came with an antidote.
(Also, you never heard me say this, but it works surprisingly well for styling your hair. Just a little bit gives such lovely shine and frizz control...)
The lube currently in my nightstand is Wet Gel Body Glide. I like it. It's long-lasting but easy to clean up, has a nice thick texture that can handle the tough jobs, doesn't get sticky at all, and it feels very... clean. If you're not yet at the point in your life where you're okay with buying your sex supplies from veterinary supply companies, this would be a good lube to use.
One piece of lube advice: use too much. I used to get in the habit of using just a couple drops and calling something "lubed" when it was coated all over, no matter how thinly. But it feels much, much better to get things wet as fuck. The correct adjective is not merely "slick" but "glorpy."
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