Today's post is on No, Seriously, What About Teh Menz, a group blog on men's issues written by a bunch of people who are woman-friendly and mostly feminist-friendly, but critical of society's treatment of men.
“Shut Up, Rich Boy”: The Problem With “Privilege.”
Showing posts with label externally referent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label externally referent. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Put your clicks where your mouth is.
Christ. I get more hits and followers than like ever, and meanwhile my body is slowly melting into a light slurry. I currently have a temperature of 103.2, tonsils like softballs, pain pain pain pain pain, thirteen pounds lost since this started, and my widdle nosie has the sniffoos, too.
So for the moment, I'm going to just use this blog as a platform to say: if you care about rape, here's a no-effort way to do something about it. The Classy Awards are an event that awards large cash prizes to charities, and you can vote for the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center by clicking here. They're in the running in several categories: Charity Of The Year, Most Effective Awareness Campaign, and Most Innovative Use Of Social Media. Peace Over Violence, which is also in the running for Most Effective Awareness Campaign, is another charity combating sexual and domestic violence.
This is the ultimate slacktivism opportunity: just click! (Remember to click "submit my ballot," too. And then it wants to glom onto your Facebook or else you have to enter some stuff. So it's actually click, click, type, click, so I guess I'm asking for some serious commitment here after all.)
I personally know some of the people behind the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center and I can vouch that they do good work that they really believe in. They run a 24-hour hotline and provide advocacy, legal assistance, counseling, and other services to victims of sexual violence.
If you care enough to get in a highfalutin theoretical argument about skirt lengths and proximate causes and cultural influences blah de blah, then you should care enough to offer your support to people on the front lines, people who aren't just supporting rape victims with Internet blustering, but by getting off their asses and driving to the ER at 3 AM. At a minimum you can give your clicks, but it makes even more of a difference when you directly donate or, if you're in the Boston area, volunteer.
Changing attitudes about rape is important. I never want to diminish that. But it's also important not to forget that there are people out there doing something about it.
So for the moment, I'm going to just use this blog as a platform to say: if you care about rape, here's a no-effort way to do something about it. The Classy Awards are an event that awards large cash prizes to charities, and you can vote for the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center by clicking here. They're in the running in several categories: Charity Of The Year, Most Effective Awareness Campaign, and Most Innovative Use Of Social Media. Peace Over Violence, which is also in the running for Most Effective Awareness Campaign, is another charity combating sexual and domestic violence.
This is the ultimate slacktivism opportunity: just click! (Remember to click "submit my ballot," too. And then it wants to glom onto your Facebook or else you have to enter some stuff. So it's actually click, click, type, click, so I guess I'm asking for some serious commitment here after all.)
I personally know some of the people behind the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center and I can vouch that they do good work that they really believe in. They run a 24-hour hotline and provide advocacy, legal assistance, counseling, and other services to victims of sexual violence.
If you care enough to get in a highfalutin theoretical argument about skirt lengths and proximate causes and cultural influences blah de blah, then you should care enough to offer your support to people on the front lines, people who aren't just supporting rape victims with Internet blustering, but by getting off their asses and driving to the ER at 3 AM. At a minimum you can give your clicks, but it makes even more of a difference when you directly donate or, if you're in the Boston area, volunteer.
Changing attitudes about rape is important. I never want to diminish that. But it's also important not to forget that there are people out there doing something about it.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Guilty pleasure.
Confession: this guy's stories get me off like nothing else.
It's terrible. His web design is worse than incomptent-some of those letters don't even have any stories, the story links aren't lined up with the titles and descriptions, and I think some of the stories are posted in .doc format. His writing is terrible and the grammar is bad, and the stories almost never have proper endings. And the content is incredibly offensive and misogynistic stories of violent rape.
These stories get me off. I don't even know why. But I read them and masturbate and they just work for me. I hate the writing, hate the guy, am annoyed with myself--and wet as all hell.
I would kind of like to find some replacement erotica with the same themes of protracted struggle and assfucked innocence, only written by a sane person who knows how to craft a story and a webpage and doesn't make me worry that they're a sex offender, but... so far I haven't found one that has quite the same effect on me.
It's terrible. His web design is worse than incomptent-some of those letters don't even have any stories, the story links aren't lined up with the titles and descriptions, and I think some of the stories are posted in .doc format. His writing is terrible and the grammar is bad, and the stories almost never have proper endings. And the content is incredibly offensive and misogynistic stories of violent rape.
These stories get me off. I don't even know why. But I read them and masturbate and they just work for me. I hate the writing, hate the guy, am annoyed with myself--and wet as all hell.
I would kind of like to find some replacement erotica with the same themes of protracted struggle and assfucked innocence, only written by a sane person who knows how to craft a story and a webpage and doesn't make me worry that they're a sex offender, but... so far I haven't found one that has quite the same effect on me.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Short iPod Post: Another silly Youtube link.
In the extremely unlikely eventuality that you haven't seen "Fuck Me, Ray Bradbury" yet, you really should.
(If I were going to fuck a classic sci-fi writer... Hmm. Heinlein seems like he'd be more fun, but Clarke deserves it more. Harlan Ellison would traumatize me for life but it might be worth it. Maybe I'd just go ahead and show Damon Knight how I serve man.)
(If I were going to fuck a classic sci-fi writer... Hmm. Heinlein seems like he'd be more fun, but Clarke deserves it more. Harlan Ellison would traumatize me for life but it might be worth it. Maybe I'd just go ahead and show Damon Knight how I serve man.)
Monday, August 23, 2010
Short iPod Post: Turkey.
If you have not seen this video, you really should.
(No nudity or anything, but might be a bit hard to explain to coworkers. Especially when it makes you laugh 'till you pee.)
(No nudity or anything, but might be a bit hard to explain to coworkers. Especially when it makes you laugh 'till you pee.)
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Assholish / Fantasy / Malleable.
I took down an excessively grouchy post. Sometimes I fall into the trap of going "ugh, men" when what I really mean is "ugh, assholes." Since I'm a straight woman, most of the assholes I deal with in the sex and dating arenas are men, but there are plenty of nonassholish men and assholish women out there, and I don't want to imply otherwise. I don't want to be an assholish woman myself.
---
Elsie has written yet another story based loosely on my sexual fantasies. Which is very weird for me, but very cool.
---
To a weird degree, I find that serving others' kinks is, for me, a kink in itself. The archetypal example is foot fetishism. It does, really, nothing for me. Feets is feets, and might as well be elbows or nostrils for all I care. But when a guy is into feet--that does something for me. The nothing-in-particular I feel having my toes sucked turns into an oh holy God YES when I see what it does to him. I don't want my toes sucked, but I want my toes sucked by a foot fetishist.
---
Elsie has written yet another story based loosely on my sexual fantasies. Which is very weird for me, but very cool.
---
To a weird degree, I find that serving others' kinks is, for me, a kink in itself. The archetypal example is foot fetishism. It does, really, nothing for me. Feets is feets, and might as well be elbows or nostrils for all I care. But when a guy is into feet--that does something for me. The nothing-in-particular I feel having my toes sucked turns into an oh holy God YES when I see what it does to him. I don't want my toes sucked, but I want my toes sucked by a foot fetishist.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The checklist, and a story.
Today's update is gargantuan and somewhat tedious, but I wanted to write it up both for the edification of potential play partners and as a general way of taking my own pulse on how I feel about various fucked-up shit. So it's on its own page: The Grand BDSM Checklist.
Also, Elsie wrote a story inspired by my Sex Matrix fantasy. It's hot, well-written, and fucked-up (that's high praise), and I encourage you to read it if you don't feel like going through eighteen pages of "Animal play, dog, giving. Animal play, dog, receiving. Animal play, dog, dachshund, giving."
Also, Elsie wrote a story inspired by my Sex Matrix fantasy. It's hot, well-written, and fucked-up (that's high praise), and I encourage you to read it if you don't feel like going through eighteen pages of "Animal play, dog, giving. Animal play, dog, receiving. Animal play, dog, dachshund, giving."
Friday, June 18, 2010
Secretary.
First, a quick link: this is COMPLETELY FUCKED. I'm not going to write a full entry on it, because other bloggers have said a lot already and it's very self-evident why this is fucked. But in case you hadn't heard about it, you should, because it's really fucked.
---
Last night I got the weird urge to rewatch Secretary. I kind of love this movie. Partly because it's just about my only option for positive portrayals of BDSM in the mainstream media; certainly it's the only positive portrayal of male domination that I can think of. Here are some of the things I love:
-James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal are so sexy oh my god.
-There are no stereotypical BDSM outfits and gear. God I'm sick of black leather strappy stuff--almost invariably on a woman or a comic-relief gay man--being shorthand for "kinky" in the media.
-The soundtrack is really nice. It's neither sleazy nor over-serious, but... languid, almost meditative, but not chaste. Leonard Cohen makes the sexy montage sexier, and "Chariots Rise" gets me close to sniffles.
-This is the only movie I've ever seen (including porn!) that shows a woman masturbating the way I actually do it! Let's hear it for face-down hand-humping!
-Maggie Gyllenhaal never loses her sympathy or dignity when doing very undignified things. Whether she's getting spanked or jerked off on or pissing herself in a wedding dress, she comes off as confused but brave, not objectified. She's also brave with her body, and does a nude scene that doesn't read as "ooh, the nude scene" but as symbolic of her character development.
-The way James Spader makes a better secretary out of Maggie Gyllenhaal is almost as hot as the actual kink and sex. Something in the patient, firm way he corrects her is fascinating to me. I can picture my own secretarial skills increasing immensely under such situations.
-Cosmopolitan Magazine shout-out!
-The ending where James Spader washes her and beds her on a completely fucking mysterious bed of grass. It's bizarre and a little romance-novely, but I love the way he worships her body without losing his Domliness.
-The scene where he jerks off on her back is so fucked up. In a good way. It's one of those experiences that's so fucked-up you can't even totally justify it in Kinkland, you can't justify it to anyone including yourself and your partner, it's crossing from the "tee hee so naughty" to the "really not okay." Even if crossing that line is rarely a good idea, I love to see it explored.
-Spanking!
-"...and four peas."
And here are a few things I don't love:
-Maggie Gyllenhaal's only encounter with the BDSM world outside James Spader is a bunch of tomato-fetishizing freaks. What's up with that? They're not the only two kinky yet reasonable people in the world, and believing that you're the Only True Kinksters is, in reality, somewhere between snobby and dangerous.
-She coulda let her fiance down a little easier, for Christ's sake. She knew months in advance that he wasn't what she wanted, and her decision to go ahead with the wedding anyway isn't agonizingly conflicted, it's just assholish.
-Their "Justice of the Peace" wedding seems a little sad to me. I mean, maybe that's just the way they wanted it, but it seems like there's an implication that because they're kinky they must be isolated, that they couldn't have invited any friends and family to the wedding.
-At times the movie seems to have a certain "no actual kinksters were harmed" feel to it, like everyone did thorough library research on the subject but of course they're normal. I can understand why the cast and crew might not want to publicize such a thing, and I assume that someone involved in the writing was actually kinky, but it sometimes comes off as almost anthropological, a view from the outside.
-The sexual-harassment-tastic job interview.
-Horse tack? Complete with straw on the desk and a carrot in her mouth? Really? Really?
-Let's face it, "I'll sit at your desk until you marry me" is a little bit crazypants.
---
Last night I got the weird urge to rewatch Secretary. I kind of love this movie. Partly because it's just about my only option for positive portrayals of BDSM in the mainstream media; certainly it's the only positive portrayal of male domination that I can think of. Here are some of the things I love:
-James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal are so sexy oh my god.
-There are no stereotypical BDSM outfits and gear. God I'm sick of black leather strappy stuff--almost invariably on a woman or a comic-relief gay man--being shorthand for "kinky" in the media.
-The soundtrack is really nice. It's neither sleazy nor over-serious, but... languid, almost meditative, but not chaste. Leonard Cohen makes the sexy montage sexier, and "Chariots Rise" gets me close to sniffles.
-This is the only movie I've ever seen (including porn!) that shows a woman masturbating the way I actually do it! Let's hear it for face-down hand-humping!
-Maggie Gyllenhaal never loses her sympathy or dignity when doing very undignified things. Whether she's getting spanked or jerked off on or pissing herself in a wedding dress, she comes off as confused but brave, not objectified. She's also brave with her body, and does a nude scene that doesn't read as "ooh, the nude scene" but as symbolic of her character development.
-The way James Spader makes a better secretary out of Maggie Gyllenhaal is almost as hot as the actual kink and sex. Something in the patient, firm way he corrects her is fascinating to me. I can picture my own secretarial skills increasing immensely under such situations.
-Cosmopolitan Magazine shout-out!
-The ending where James Spader washes her and beds her on a completely fucking mysterious bed of grass. It's bizarre and a little romance-novely, but I love the way he worships her body without losing his Domliness.
-The scene where he jerks off on her back is so fucked up. In a good way. It's one of those experiences that's so fucked-up you can't even totally justify it in Kinkland, you can't justify it to anyone including yourself and your partner, it's crossing from the "tee hee so naughty" to the "really not okay." Even if crossing that line is rarely a good idea, I love to see it explored.
-Spanking!
-"...and four peas."
And here are a few things I don't love:
-Maggie Gyllenhaal's only encounter with the BDSM world outside James Spader is a bunch of tomato-fetishizing freaks. What's up with that? They're not the only two kinky yet reasonable people in the world, and believing that you're the Only True Kinksters is, in reality, somewhere between snobby and dangerous.
-She coulda let her fiance down a little easier, for Christ's sake. She knew months in advance that he wasn't what she wanted, and her decision to go ahead with the wedding anyway isn't agonizingly conflicted, it's just assholish.
-Their "Justice of the Peace" wedding seems a little sad to me. I mean, maybe that's just the way they wanted it, but it seems like there's an implication that because they're kinky they must be isolated, that they couldn't have invited any friends and family to the wedding.
-At times the movie seems to have a certain "no actual kinksters were harmed" feel to it, like everyone did thorough library research on the subject but of course they're normal. I can understand why the cast and crew might not want to publicize such a thing, and I assume that someone involved in the writing was actually kinky, but it sometimes comes off as almost anthropological, a view from the outside.
-The sexual-harassment-tastic job interview.
-Horse tack? Complete with straw on the desk and a carrot in her mouth? Really? Really?
-Let's face it, "I'll sit at your desk until you marry me" is a little bit crazypants.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Nice Guy's Guide to Realizing You're Not That Nice.
I have people to do and things to be (and I slept really late... like 5 PM late), so all I have is a link, but it's Lore Sjoberg, so it's plenty awesome.
On Nice Guys. You might not want to read the comments.
On Nice Guys. You might not want to read the comments.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Flatland.
I don't usually just copypasta something and call it a post, but I'm making an exception for awesomeness. This was, of all things, on a nail polish blog, but I just have to reproduce it because it's too awesome:
Their vertexes locked across the room. The sexagon slid boldly over the plane until he stood before the lithe young triangle. "Hey, baby," he said. "If I told you that you had a beautiful perimeter, would you hold it against me?"
The triangle blushed and looked shyly at her smallest angle.
"Come on, doll," the brazen sexagon continued, "Don't be obtuse. It doesn't suit acute one like you. You don't want to be a square, do you? I'm not going to stand here and complement you all night. Let me buy you a gin and conic."
"No, thanks," the triangle said. "What's your angle?"
"My angle? You could fill the null set with all the other guys in here who would give you the coordinates of the origin. Look, you know you're the right triangle for me. Let's go back to my place and we can give it an ol' whirl around the XXX-axis. Tangentially, it's cool if you're bisectoral, you can bring a friend."
Credit to Panderbear.
Their vertexes locked across the room. The sexagon slid boldly over the plane until he stood before the lithe young triangle. "Hey, baby," he said. "If I told you that you had a beautiful perimeter, would you hold it against me?"
The triangle blushed and looked shyly at her smallest angle.
"Come on, doll," the brazen sexagon continued, "Don't be obtuse. It doesn't suit acute one like you. You don't want to be a square, do you? I'm not going to stand here and complement you all night. Let me buy you a gin and conic."
"No, thanks," the triangle said. "What's your angle?"
"My angle? You could fill the null set with all the other guys in here who would give you the coordinates of the origin. Look, you know you're the right triangle for me. Let's go back to my place and we can give it an ol' whirl around the XXX-axis. Tangentially, it's cool if you're bisectoral, you can bring a friend."
Credit to Panderbear.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Oak Creek, Wisconsin.
423 miles today. I deliberately stopped earlier than I could've so that I could meet some blog people! Hi Strings and Spoon!
I also don't have time to write a travelogue because I was all busy hanging out with Strings and Spoon, so you won't get to hear about my amazing journey through Minnesota and Wisconsin. (They're both flat and snowy. Wisconsin has a lot of trees and Minnesota has fewer. You've now experienced eight hours of my day in about eight seconds.)
Instead I want to share one of my fascinations: blatantly imaginary "reviews" on sex toy sites! Some of these are jokes but I think most of them are wank fantasies. Extreme Restraints has some of the best ones.
(All links are SO NWS it's not even funny. People say "why do you warn NWS, it's already a sex blog," but man, there's NWS that's a few dirty words and a mildly suggestive banner, and then there's NWS that's a giant butthole across your screen.)
I don't think a single one of these are true.
The next day, she introduced me to the neighbor's German Sheppard - O my Gawd, I'd never been done like that before, and when he knotted up, I begged her to take the CB-2000 off - NOW, I understand why people enjoy animals! But she wasn't done, yet! She lubed up her hand, and introduced me to Fisting! [..] As I began to cum, she pushed a full beer can up my ass! [..] She popped the top on the beer, and drank it with a straw, before releasing my hands.
Some items are so insane they deserve insane reviews.
Then he woud take me out to his garage ( live in a houseing davelopment) open the door, and hang me up for anyone to come play with. He would put 9oz. nipple clamps one me and a but plug up my ass. Then leave at first no one played with me during the day, so Master put a sing up that said " Sex slave: play with her for free" then people started comeing. Mostly house wives in the moring, then high schoolers in the afternoon, then bissness men in the eveing.
But even relatively ordinary items get the crazy treatment.
At first, I was restrained in these only around our farm for a couple of hours. They would be padlocked behind my back, and my fur-lined leather collar around my neck with the leash attached. This would be all that I was wearing as my husband led me around outside. The feelings of potential exposure and actual helplessness got my juices flowing and put a buldge in his pants, which led to some hot face, pussy, and ass fucking outdoors. At first, I didn't want to swallow cum or take it up my ass, but I had no choice and I learned to love it.
This one doesn't have funny reviews, I just love the models' attempts at looking smoky and intense while wearing ridiculous devices.
I never understand people who have fantasies about doing something strenuously sexual or being in bondage for all day or multiple days. Maybe I'm just too practical-minded, but I think I want to have sex for a few hours and be vigorously penetrated for a few minutes. It's not that I'm not way horny for those few minutes, but... I know my limitations.
Oh yeah, baby. Pound me with your moderately sized cock for a few minutes. Tie me in a comfortable position for a reasonable amount of time. Oh God, it's so tolerable.
I also don't have time to write a travelogue because I was all busy hanging out with Strings and Spoon, so you won't get to hear about my amazing journey through Minnesota and Wisconsin. (They're both flat and snowy. Wisconsin has a lot of trees and Minnesota has fewer. You've now experienced eight hours of my day in about eight seconds.)
Instead I want to share one of my fascinations: blatantly imaginary "reviews" on sex toy sites! Some of these are jokes but I think most of them are wank fantasies. Extreme Restraints has some of the best ones.
(All links are SO NWS it's not even funny. People say "why do you warn NWS, it's already a sex blog," but man, there's NWS that's a few dirty words and a mildly suggestive banner, and then there's NWS that's a giant butthole across your screen.)
I don't think a single one of these are true.
The next day, she introduced me to the neighbor's German Sheppard - O my Gawd, I'd never been done like that before, and when he knotted up, I begged her to take the CB-2000 off - NOW, I understand why people enjoy animals! But she wasn't done, yet! She lubed up her hand, and introduced me to Fisting! [..] As I began to cum, she pushed a full beer can up my ass! [..] She popped the top on the beer, and drank it with a straw, before releasing my hands.
Some items are so insane they deserve insane reviews.
Then he woud take me out to his garage ( live in a houseing davelopment) open the door, and hang me up for anyone to come play with. He would put 9oz. nipple clamps one me and a but plug up my ass. Then leave at first no one played with me during the day, so Master put a sing up that said " Sex slave: play with her for free" then people started comeing. Mostly house wives in the moring, then high schoolers in the afternoon, then bissness men in the eveing.
But even relatively ordinary items get the crazy treatment.
At first, I was restrained in these only around our farm for a couple of hours. They would be padlocked behind my back, and my fur-lined leather collar around my neck with the leash attached. This would be all that I was wearing as my husband led me around outside. The feelings of potential exposure and actual helplessness got my juices flowing and put a buldge in his pants, which led to some hot face, pussy, and ass fucking outdoors. At first, I didn't want to swallow cum or take it up my ass, but I had no choice and I learned to love it.
This one doesn't have funny reviews, I just love the models' attempts at looking smoky and intense while wearing ridiculous devices.
I never understand people who have fantasies about doing something strenuously sexual or being in bondage for all day or multiple days. Maybe I'm just too practical-minded, but I think I want to have sex for a few hours and be vigorously penetrated for a few minutes. It's not that I'm not way horny for those few minutes, but... I know my limitations.
Oh yeah, baby. Pound me with your moderately sized cock for a few minutes. Tie me in a comfortable position for a reasonable amount of time. Oh God, it's so tolerable.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Labia dye. LABIA DYE!
A little while ago, Quizzical Pussy posted about My New Pink Button, which is labia dye. Because your labia are obviously the wrong color right now.
(Also, her blog is great and you should read it. Srsly.)
It's the sort of thing I would test out, except that it's thirty dollars and it might disfigure my genitals. Fortunately, there's always someone on the Internet willing to disfigure themselves for you! Yep, this person went and tested it.
Things were okay for a few seconds, and then…THE BURNING! I have certainly felt worse, but it was very noticeable. The instructions assure me that this burning is “due to the ingredients reacting to your bodies own PH balance which is normal and will go away upon rinsing off the colorant.”
Uh oh. She also posts pictures (of her arm, but she did test it on her crotch and reports no change there either) of the incredibly miniscule change in color. If anything you're going to get a blotchy vagina. The guys sure go for blotchy.
And then there's this disturbing suspicion, given the thirty-dollar price tag:
I had a hunch after the way it smelled and how it looked when wet, so I licked my arm before I rinsed it, and it tasted just like unsweetened Kool-Aid.
Now I'm actually kinda curious about the interactions between Kool-Aid and crotch. I've never felt my labia were disfiguringly unpink, but sugar-free Kool-Aid comes in purple! And green! And blue! I could have a CROTCH RAINBOW!
(taste the rainbow?)
If I don't mind the whole burning sensation, I guess.
(Also, her blog is great and you should read it. Srsly.)
It's the sort of thing I would test out, except that it's thirty dollars and it might disfigure my genitals. Fortunately, there's always someone on the Internet willing to disfigure themselves for you! Yep, this person went and tested it.
Things were okay for a few seconds, and then…THE BURNING! I have certainly felt worse, but it was very noticeable. The instructions assure me that this burning is “due to the ingredients reacting to your bodies own PH balance which is normal and will go away upon rinsing off the colorant.”
Uh oh. She also posts pictures (of her arm, but she did test it on her crotch and reports no change there either) of the incredibly miniscule change in color. If anything you're going to get a blotchy vagina. The guys sure go for blotchy.
And then there's this disturbing suspicion, given the thirty-dollar price tag:
I had a hunch after the way it smelled and how it looked when wet, so I licked my arm before I rinsed it, and it tasted just like unsweetened Kool-Aid.
Now I'm actually kinda curious about the interactions between Kool-Aid and crotch. I've never felt my labia were disfiguringly unpink, but sugar-free Kool-Aid comes in purple! And green! And blue! I could have a CROTCH RAINBOW!
(taste the rainbow?)
If I don't mind the whole burning sensation, I guess.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Robot Girlfriend!
Look at the picture. Just look at it.
So this is ROXXXY, the supposed robot girlfriend. I have to say, if looks are an issue for you... ROXXXY may be an issue. I can bitch about beauty standards all day long but any guy who could look into that scary plastic horse face and keep a boner has absolutely no business picking nits with any living woman.
One creepy detail the article doesn't mention and I did not make up: the creator modeled ROXXXY after a friend who died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Wow. Wow. ....Wow. To everyone who reads this blog: if I am horribly murdered, please do not sell me or anything that looks like me for people to have sex with. Thank you.
"She can't vacuum, she can't cook but she can do almost anything else if you know what I mean,"
Oh, so she can go hiking with me? She can discuss the news with me and agree to disagree about Obama? She can help me move a couch? She can teach me how to make proper onion soup? She can trade backrubs?
I don't talk about my dildo saying "he can't change oil, he can't grill a steak but he can do almost anything else if you know what I mean," because he (ew, it, c'mon) can do one thing. Not badly, but let's not kid around. A "girlfriend" is a multifunctional person, and by that I don't mean anal and oral.
The anatomically-correct robot has an articulated skeleton that can move like a person but can't walk or independently move its limbs
So... not much like a person at all, really.
Robotic movement is built into "the three inputs" and a mechanical heart that powers a liquid cooling system.
By "robotic movement," I have a suspicion they mean "vibration." DECADES OF DEVELOPMENT.
And why the hell does it need a liquid cooling system if it doesn't move? I guess the market was just demanding a simulated sex partner who was really cold.
What do I really make of this thing?
Ample video exists of the guy talking about ROXXXY while she sits there completely dead, but there's none of her actually moving or talking. (Although SomethingAwful produced an excellent [and ridiculously offensive] educated guess about her various personalities.)
I think this is the doomed project of a guy who is creepy, yes, but more importantly he's way overambitious in his showing of an obviously unfinished product. Somehow that's even sadder to me than the whole "robot girlfriend" aspect--the fact that this guy clearly doesn't really know how to make his robot girlfriend, so all that he's showing the world is that he has a mostly unrealized dream of a robot girlfriend.
It's the same awkward feeling as reading someone's terrible unpublished novel, except in this case the novel is about their robot girlfriend with three motorized inputs.
So this is ROXXXY, the supposed robot girlfriend. I have to say, if looks are an issue for you... ROXXXY may be an issue. I can bitch about beauty standards all day long but any guy who could look into that scary plastic horse face and keep a boner has absolutely no business picking nits with any living woman.
One creepy detail the article doesn't mention and I did not make up: the creator modeled ROXXXY after a friend who died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Wow. Wow. ....Wow. To everyone who reads this blog: if I am horribly murdered, please do not sell me or anything that looks like me for people to have sex with. Thank you.
"She can't vacuum, she can't cook but she can do almost anything else if you know what I mean,"
Oh, so she can go hiking with me? She can discuss the news with me and agree to disagree about Obama? She can help me move a couch? She can teach me how to make proper onion soup? She can trade backrubs?
I don't talk about my dildo saying "he can't change oil, he can't grill a steak but he can do almost anything else if you know what I mean," because he (ew, it, c'mon) can do one thing. Not badly, but let's not kid around. A "girlfriend" is a multifunctional person, and by that I don't mean anal and oral.
The anatomically-correct robot has an articulated skeleton that can move like a person but can't walk or independently move its limbs
So... not much like a person at all, really.
Robotic movement is built into "the three inputs" and a mechanical heart that powers a liquid cooling system.
By "robotic movement," I have a suspicion they mean "vibration." DECADES OF DEVELOPMENT.
And why the hell does it need a liquid cooling system if it doesn't move? I guess the market was just demanding a simulated sex partner who was really cold.
What do I really make of this thing?
Ample video exists of the guy talking about ROXXXY while she sits there completely dead, but there's none of her actually moving or talking. (Although SomethingAwful produced an excellent [and ridiculously offensive] educated guess about her various personalities.)
I think this is the doomed project of a guy who is creepy, yes, but more importantly he's way overambitious in his showing of an obviously unfinished product. Somehow that's even sadder to me than the whole "robot girlfriend" aspect--the fact that this guy clearly doesn't really know how to make his robot girlfriend, so all that he's showing the world is that he has a mostly unrealized dream of a robot girlfriend.
It's the same awkward feeling as reading someone's terrible unpublished novel, except in this case the novel is about their robot girlfriend with three motorized inputs.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
What I'm reading now.
Happyendingz - confessions of an erotic masseuse.
It's a fascinatingly matter-of-fact look into a business I always thought was little more than a cover story--but no, there are erotic massage places that take the "massage" part somewhat seriously and don't have fuckin', and CJ works at one of them. She has great stories and comes off as just an ordinary person with an interesting job.
Now I feel bad about that "just." I hate to be saying "oh, she's like a normal person even though she's a sex worker," because that's awfully condescending. She is normal! I shouldn't even have to say that! She's probably not normal in certain ways because no one is! She doesn't need me to defend her!
...augh, just read her blog, you'll learn fun stuff about handjob massages.
It's a fascinatingly matter-of-fact look into a business I always thought was little more than a cover story--but no, there are erotic massage places that take the "massage" part somewhat seriously and don't have fuckin', and CJ works at one of them. She has great stories and comes off as just an ordinary person with an interesting job.
Now I feel bad about that "just." I hate to be saying "oh, she's like a normal person even though she's a sex worker," because that's awfully condescending. She is normal! I shouldn't even have to say that! She's probably not normal in certain ways because no one is! She doesn't need me to defend her!
...augh, just read her blog, you'll learn fun stuff about handjob massages.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Links People Sent Me.
Woman's life made 'unbearable' by insatiable libido
To be honest this isn't a sex story so much as a medical story, and if her symptoms keep up long-term I wonder if surgery or some kind of nerve block might be justified. It also sounds like her problem isn't "libido" per se but genital hypersensitivity--closer to priapism than nymphomania.
I've noticed that there are (at least) two different kinds of horny I experience. One is a desire for the full package of sex, for human connection and kinkiness and lots of experimentation and enjoyment. The other is more akin to needing to pee--it's just a physiological desire for orgasm. It's the difference between "let's make love all night, baby" and "oh man, I wanna come so bad right now."
The second kind is not only less noble, it's less fun, and I don't think someone cursed with that kind of horny all day long is in a good situation at all.
Vintage Sex Ed
Thoroughly entertaining, although sadly I haven't had the chance to watch it all yet. I think it would be more instructive to make a gallery of current sex-ed materials; I'm guessing they don't lack for howlers. My sex-ed classes seemed to focus mainly on the idea that if girls had "self-esteem" they wouldn't want to have sex. Which is the complete opposite of my real-life experience, in which sex bolsters my confidence and confidence gets me laid.
But I guess the message of "as a teenage girl, you may feel pressured to have sex by the sexiness of your boyfriend and how good he is with his fingers and the fact that sex feels fucking fantastic and you can come over and over and it's so good oh God" didn't pass the curriculum review board.
Why James Chartrand Wears Women’s Underpants
A well-known blogger "comes out" as female, and tells a heartbreaking and scary story of how taking on a male identity changed her life.
Instantly, jobs became easier to get.
There was no haggling. There were compliments, there was respect. Clients hired me quickly, and when they received their work, they liked it just as quickly. There were fewer requests for revisions — often none at all.
Customer satisfaction shot through the roof. So did my pay rate.
And I was thankful. I finally stopped worrying about how I would feed my girls. We were warm. Well-fed. Safe. No one at school would ever tease my kids about being poor.
It's true: all the taken men are best
Silly "scientific" horseshit. It's (at least as written here) a great example of a study finding results that could mean many things, and then shoehorning them into a form that confirms stereotypes as comfortably as possible. The actual results: women are more attracted to the same man when they hear that he has a partner.
That's sort of interesting, but then the interpretations go all kinds of wacky unsupported places: women are "poachers," women are competitive, women want a man to be "socially desirable." Maybe, but nothing in your actual research tells me any of that. (Here's a thought, I know it's ickily qualitative, but maybe she should've asked her subjects why they found these hypothetical partners attractive or not. Or for all I know she did, but it sure didn't make it into the article.)
My own hypothesis is that a man who's very good-looking but not in a relationship leads to the question "so why not?" and suggests he either doesn't want to be or he comes with some baggage; and a man who's not very good-looking, well, he's not very good-looking. Obviously there are plenty of cute single guys who'd be good boyfriends, but I can see that reasoning. Still, my hypothesis is just that, a hypothesis, and I wouldn't publish it in a big national magazine before I actually tested it.
Finally, I'm always amused that people can get grants and press for "studies" that amount to little more than playing "would you rather" with a bunch of undergrads. I can play this game too! Hey roomie, would you rather fuck Kurt Russell or Shia LaBeouf? Kurt? Awesome, me too.
BREAKING NEWS: WOMEN PREFER OLDER, HARIER MEN:
Possibly a subconscious desire for their own fathers, or for rich men to support them, or to steal the husbands of older women. Women are filthy creatures.
To be honest this isn't a sex story so much as a medical story, and if her symptoms keep up long-term I wonder if surgery or some kind of nerve block might be justified. It also sounds like her problem isn't "libido" per se but genital hypersensitivity--closer to priapism than nymphomania.
I've noticed that there are (at least) two different kinds of horny I experience. One is a desire for the full package of sex, for human connection and kinkiness and lots of experimentation and enjoyment. The other is more akin to needing to pee--it's just a physiological desire for orgasm. It's the difference between "let's make love all night, baby" and "oh man, I wanna come so bad right now."
The second kind is not only less noble, it's less fun, and I don't think someone cursed with that kind of horny all day long is in a good situation at all.
Vintage Sex Ed
Thoroughly entertaining, although sadly I haven't had the chance to watch it all yet. I think it would be more instructive to make a gallery of current sex-ed materials; I'm guessing they don't lack for howlers. My sex-ed classes seemed to focus mainly on the idea that if girls had "self-esteem" they wouldn't want to have sex. Which is the complete opposite of my real-life experience, in which sex bolsters my confidence and confidence gets me laid.
But I guess the message of "as a teenage girl, you may feel pressured to have sex by the sexiness of your boyfriend and how good he is with his fingers and the fact that sex feels fucking fantastic and you can come over and over and it's so good oh God" didn't pass the curriculum review board.
Why James Chartrand Wears Women’s Underpants
A well-known blogger "comes out" as female, and tells a heartbreaking and scary story of how taking on a male identity changed her life.
Instantly, jobs became easier to get.
There was no haggling. There were compliments, there was respect. Clients hired me quickly, and when they received their work, they liked it just as quickly. There were fewer requests for revisions — often none at all.
Customer satisfaction shot through the roof. So did my pay rate.
And I was thankful. I finally stopped worrying about how I would feed my girls. We were warm. Well-fed. Safe. No one at school would ever tease my kids about being poor.
It's true: all the taken men are best
Silly "scientific" horseshit. It's (at least as written here) a great example of a study finding results that could mean many things, and then shoehorning them into a form that confirms stereotypes as comfortably as possible. The actual results: women are more attracted to the same man when they hear that he has a partner.
That's sort of interesting, but then the interpretations go all kinds of wacky unsupported places: women are "poachers," women are competitive, women want a man to be "socially desirable." Maybe, but nothing in your actual research tells me any of that. (Here's a thought, I know it's ickily qualitative, but maybe she should've asked her subjects why they found these hypothetical partners attractive or not. Or for all I know she did, but it sure didn't make it into the article.)
My own hypothesis is that a man who's very good-looking but not in a relationship leads to the question "so why not?" and suggests he either doesn't want to be or he comes with some baggage; and a man who's not very good-looking, well, he's not very good-looking. Obviously there are plenty of cute single guys who'd be good boyfriends, but I can see that reasoning. Still, my hypothesis is just that, a hypothesis, and I wouldn't publish it in a big national magazine before I actually tested it.
Finally, I'm always amused that people can get grants and press for "studies" that amount to little more than playing "would you rather" with a bunch of undergrads. I can play this game too! Hey roomie, would you rather fuck Kurt Russell or Shia LaBeouf? Kurt? Awesome, me too.
BREAKING NEWS: WOMEN PREFER OLDER, HARIER MEN:
Possibly a subconscious desire for their own fathers, or for rich men to support them, or to steal the husbands of older women. Women are filthy creatures.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
"The Silent Strike!"
Fabulous video link, courtesy elmo_iscariot:
Cosmo Brainstorming
(NWS dialogue but visually inoffensive.)
Cosmo Brainstorming
(NWS dialogue but visually inoffensive.)
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Oh no, the "youth" have technology!
One-third of youths have engaged in "sexting."
By "youth" they mean ages 14-24, so I'm included there, despite my increasing lack of resemblance to a wide-eyed apple-cheeked little innocent. It's fun to refocus the entire article with this in mind, and read sentences like "[Women] were more likely to share a naked image of themselves than [men], and those who are already sexually active were much more likely to send an image than those who were not sexually active." Already! At 24! I know, I'm the shame of my family. Hell, this entire blog is a truly malignant example of inappropriate youth behavior. Perhaps I'll kill myself: "About 12 percent of those who engaged in sexting activity have contemplated suicide, though the survey didn’t attempt to deduce if the suicidal thoughts were related to the often negative consequences of sexting."
(Fun fact: According to the World Health Organization, 15.3% of all Americans have contemplated suicide. Clearly sexting has protective effects.)
Beyond the definition of "youth" as an age group that's more than half legal adults, my other beef with this type of teen-sexting-panic article is that it's only describing a natural evolution of behaviors that kids have done since the dawn of time. Post-pubescent humans are horny, stop the presses.
The problem isn't that the kids are getting naked; the problem is that the kids might not be aware how permanent and shareable the record of their nakedness is. Kids (and, um, 24-year-olds) may have played "show me yours I'll show you mine" since genitals were invented, but the ability to then go and show hers to all your buddies has been expanded by technology. This is what kids need to hear: not that sexting is "inappropriate" or it'll make you suicidal but that it makes it easier for the whole school to see your junk.
(Total digression: I always hated it when I was a teenager and adults called sexual or vulgar behavior "inappropriate," without specifying what situation it was inappropriate for. If it's not appropriate when I'm off the clock in my own home, maybe appropriateness isn't your real concern. Jerks.)
In the long run, what's going to happen is saturation. When everything is digitally recorded, everyone will have filthy pictures out there; and when everyone is naked on the Internet, it'll stop being a big deal. I look forward to the day when "she took off her pants on the Internet" is about as exciting a news as "she took off her pants in her bedroom."
I also look forward to the day when people respond to "boyfriend shows whole school his girlfriend's crotch" stories with "that asshole boyfriend" rather than "that sexting slut!"
By "youth" they mean ages 14-24, so I'm included there, despite my increasing lack of resemblance to a wide-eyed apple-cheeked little innocent. It's fun to refocus the entire article with this in mind, and read sentences like "[Women] were more likely to share a naked image of themselves than [men], and those who are already sexually active were much more likely to send an image than those who were not sexually active." Already! At 24! I know, I'm the shame of my family. Hell, this entire blog is a truly malignant example of inappropriate youth behavior. Perhaps I'll kill myself: "About 12 percent of those who engaged in sexting activity have contemplated suicide, though the survey didn’t attempt to deduce if the suicidal thoughts were related to the often negative consequences of sexting."
(Fun fact: According to the World Health Organization, 15.3% of all Americans have contemplated suicide. Clearly sexting has protective effects.)
Beyond the definition of "youth" as an age group that's more than half legal adults, my other beef with this type of teen-sexting-panic article is that it's only describing a natural evolution of behaviors that kids have done since the dawn of time. Post-pubescent humans are horny, stop the presses.
The problem isn't that the kids are getting naked; the problem is that the kids might not be aware how permanent and shareable the record of their nakedness is. Kids (and, um, 24-year-olds) may have played "show me yours I'll show you mine" since genitals were invented, but the ability to then go and show hers to all your buddies has been expanded by technology. This is what kids need to hear: not that sexting is "inappropriate" or it'll make you suicidal but that it makes it easier for the whole school to see your junk.
(Total digression: I always hated it when I was a teenager and adults called sexual or vulgar behavior "inappropriate," without specifying what situation it was inappropriate for. If it's not appropriate when I'm off the clock in my own home, maybe appropriateness isn't your real concern. Jerks.)
In the long run, what's going to happen is saturation. When everything is digitally recorded, everyone will have filthy pictures out there; and when everyone is naked on the Internet, it'll stop being a big deal. I look forward to the day when "she took off her pants on the Internet" is about as exciting a news as "she took off her pants in her bedroom."
I also look forward to the day when people respond to "boyfriend shows whole school his girlfriend's crotch" stories with "that asshole boyfriend" rather than "that sexting slut!"
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
The Two Myths of Desire.
When I started this blog, one of this first myths I wanted to tackle was that women weren't horny. (My counter-evidence consisting largely of "fuck, I'm horny.") Figleaf has a refinement he calls the Two Rules of Desire:
1) It is simultaneously inconceivable and intolerable for a woman to have sexual desire.
2) It is simultaneously inconceivable and intolerable for a man to be sexually desired.
I want to be careful how I present these. Obviously they're not true. And they're also not that widely believed; tons of women know they're horny for men and tons of men know that and love it. But they form a sort of infrastructure for a lot of misconceptions about gender and sexuality, from "sluts are psychologically damaged" to "pretty boys are gaaaaay." These two rules are the base myths that lead to Cosmo sex tips and "evolutionary" pop-psych and everything that Maxim has ever printed that wasn't about sports cars.
How they apply to some of my personal bugbears:
Cosmo - It is inconceivable for a woman to have sexual desire, so here's some tips on how to be attractive to him and how to please him in bed. When we do speak about your own sexuality, we'll assume you've barely thought about it so we'll either ignore it, or write "how to have an orgasm" articles that assume you've gone twenty-odd years and never touched your down-theres before.
Radical feminism - It is inconceivable for a man to be sexually desired, so heterosexual sex (or if not sex itself, any deliberate sexiness) must be all about pleasing men out of fearful or brainwashed submission. When a woman insists that no, she really desires guys and kinda likes them as people besides, this only shows the depth of the brainwashing or her lack of commitment to the cause. I've seen radical feminists propose a sort of Lysistrata solution to patriarchy, where we all withhold sex and sexiness until the happy-bunny Revolution comes; it's usually compared to a "strike" but for me it would be a lot more like a hunger strike.
PUA - It is inconceivable for a man to be sexually desired, so here's how to trick the bitch into giving it up. NO HEY REALLY IT'S ALL ABOUT SELF-IMPROVEMENT AND CONFIDENCE SO STOP BEING DIFFICULT BITCH.
Evolutionary psychology (not necessarily as a whole but when used as shorthand for "pop-psych articles about relationships that compare people to elephant seals and/or Neanderthals") - It is inconceivable for a woman to have sexual desire, so here's some misapplied animal analogies and poorly-researched assumptions about "cavemen" that explain that she may think she's horny but she's really just looking for genes for her babies. Ladies love them some babies.
PROGRAMMING NOTE: I know updates have been sparse lately and that's partly because I've been sick with the Lung Crud for the last month. I finally went to see a doctor today and got a bunch of medications and hopefully I'll be feeling sexier soon.
(It's also partly because of Fallout 3. But I didn't tell the doctor about that because I don't have a problem, I can quit whenever I want.)
1) It is simultaneously inconceivable and intolerable for a woman to have sexual desire.
2) It is simultaneously inconceivable and intolerable for a man to be sexually desired.
I want to be careful how I present these. Obviously they're not true. And they're also not that widely believed; tons of women know they're horny for men and tons of men know that and love it. But they form a sort of infrastructure for a lot of misconceptions about gender and sexuality, from "sluts are psychologically damaged" to "pretty boys are gaaaaay." These two rules are the base myths that lead to Cosmo sex tips and "evolutionary" pop-psych and everything that Maxim has ever printed that wasn't about sports cars.
How they apply to some of my personal bugbears:
Cosmo - It is inconceivable for a woman to have sexual desire, so here's some tips on how to be attractive to him and how to please him in bed. When we do speak about your own sexuality, we'll assume you've barely thought about it so we'll either ignore it, or write "how to have an orgasm" articles that assume you've gone twenty-odd years and never touched your down-theres before.
Radical feminism - It is inconceivable for a man to be sexually desired, so heterosexual sex (or if not sex itself, any deliberate sexiness) must be all about pleasing men out of fearful or brainwashed submission. When a woman insists that no, she really desires guys and kinda likes them as people besides, this only shows the depth of the brainwashing or her lack of commitment to the cause. I've seen radical feminists propose a sort of Lysistrata solution to patriarchy, where we all withhold sex and sexiness until the happy-bunny Revolution comes; it's usually compared to a "strike" but for me it would be a lot more like a hunger strike.
PUA - It is inconceivable for a man to be sexually desired, so here's how to trick the bitch into giving it up. NO HEY REALLY IT'S ALL ABOUT SELF-IMPROVEMENT AND CONFIDENCE SO STOP BEING DIFFICULT BITCH.
Evolutionary psychology (not necessarily as a whole but when used as shorthand for "pop-psych articles about relationships that compare people to elephant seals and/or Neanderthals") - It is inconceivable for a woman to have sexual desire, so here's some misapplied animal analogies and poorly-researched assumptions about "cavemen" that explain that she may think she's horny but she's really just looking for genes for her babies. Ladies love them some babies.
PROGRAMMING NOTE: I know updates have been sparse lately and that's partly because I've been sick with the Lung Crud for the last month. I finally went to see a doctor today and got a bunch of medications and hopefully I'll be feeling sexier soon.
(It's also partly because of Fallout 3. But I didn't tell the doctor about that because I don't have a problem, I can quit whenever I want.)
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Links Time!
LabRat on masculinity.
For as long as I’ve known him, [Stingray] has always acted as though it were a long-since forgone conclusion that his testicles came factory-equipped and were, are, and ever shall be firmly attached to his body, no matter what happens short of a purely literal castration event.
He doesn’t feel the need to check and see if they are still there, or re-bolt them back on later if he is served an egg pie. The presence of homosexual men within his zip code, or even living room, does not cause him to curl into the fetal position and cradle them lest they scamper off over the horizon. He can wash his face with something gentler and more scented than a bar of lava soap and still rest so secure in the assumption that the testosterone-producing apparatus that will still require him to shave it the next morning is still hanging in there that he needn’t even make a few precautionary laps around the block in a pickup. Likewise he seems entirely capable of trying new and different things without needing to look up their gendered implications in a checklist or guide before deciding whether he enjoyed it or not.
I agree completely. I've always thought it was weird when people feel a need to (or urge others to) "prove" their gender. I'm a woman no matter what I do, aren't I? I think the problem is that "woman" and "man" each have two very different definitions:
1. A person who has [female/male] physical characteristics.
2. A person who is [nurturing/tough] and wears [dresses/pants] and likes [ponies!/muscle cars].
A person who fits only one of these definitions creates a weird dissonance in some people. It's not that simple, though, because it's not just overtly masculine women or feminine men who get shit about this--you can be female, be nurturing, wear dresses, and like muscle cars... and certain people will be unable to accept the muscle car thing, or you will feel like you have to suppress it and try to like ponies. As if a dress-wearing vagina-owning person could become disastrously male by that single drop of impurity.
Stingray's no one's girly-man (that's very clear if you read any of his posts...). He's just not a MANLY MAN MAN MAN in everything he does. Rejecting the full package deal that supposedly comes with your gender doesn't mean you're rejecting your gender. Just that you're, y'know, a normal person.
Secondly, even though it's a little embarrassing, I've found Succeed Socially to be surprisingly useful reading. There's a bunch of articles on social skills, pitched at a borderline-Asperger's audience; a lot of it is the guy saying (in more polite words) "other people don't want to hear a four-hour lecture on your model train collection." But a lot of it is really good, thought-through, well-written advice on how to meet and make friends and treat them well.
It's easy for someone like me, who's somewhat awkward but definitely not at the train-collection level of social disaster, to brush this off as something they don't need. Or even to feel a bit humiliated to be looking at it, an admission of dorkness second only to wearing Pull-Ups to bed. But a lot of it has been very helpful for me. I have a lot of bad social habits--"everyone listen to me!"; "I'm only making cruel fun of you because I like you"; "screw it, I'm going back to my cave"--that this site has helped with.
And more than anything, it has a good attitude. The guy's outlook on life is that most people are worth knowing and that the best thing you can do is genuinely like other people. If you're interested in someone and want to spend time with them, you should basically just say so. The site doesn't directly address dating at all, but I'd say it's the best dating-advice site I've ever seen.
If you're wondering why this post is tagged "PUA," that's a hint. (Well, okay, it's really just a cue for Eurosabra--oh lord, I said his name, he's like Candlejack--to appear and explain why he doesn't find this "treating people decently technique" nearly as effective as the Performatively Masculine Half-Neg Strength Word of +2 CHA.)
For as long as I’ve known him, [Stingray] has always acted as though it were a long-since forgone conclusion that his testicles came factory-equipped and were, are, and ever shall be firmly attached to his body, no matter what happens short of a purely literal castration event.
He doesn’t feel the need to check and see if they are still there, or re-bolt them back on later if he is served an egg pie. The presence of homosexual men within his zip code, or even living room, does not cause him to curl into the fetal position and cradle them lest they scamper off over the horizon. He can wash his face with something gentler and more scented than a bar of lava soap and still rest so secure in the assumption that the testosterone-producing apparatus that will still require him to shave it the next morning is still hanging in there that he needn’t even make a few precautionary laps around the block in a pickup. Likewise he seems entirely capable of trying new and different things without needing to look up their gendered implications in a checklist or guide before deciding whether he enjoyed it or not.
I agree completely. I've always thought it was weird when people feel a need to (or urge others to) "prove" their gender. I'm a woman no matter what I do, aren't I? I think the problem is that "woman" and "man" each have two very different definitions:
1. A person who has [female/male] physical characteristics.
2. A person who is [nurturing/tough] and wears [dresses/pants] and likes [ponies!/muscle cars].
A person who fits only one of these definitions creates a weird dissonance in some people. It's not that simple, though, because it's not just overtly masculine women or feminine men who get shit about this--you can be female, be nurturing, wear dresses, and like muscle cars... and certain people will be unable to accept the muscle car thing, or you will feel like you have to suppress it and try to like ponies. As if a dress-wearing vagina-owning person could become disastrously male by that single drop of impurity.
Stingray's no one's girly-man (that's very clear if you read any of his posts...). He's just not a MANLY MAN MAN MAN in everything he does. Rejecting the full package deal that supposedly comes with your gender doesn't mean you're rejecting your gender. Just that you're, y'know, a normal person.
Secondly, even though it's a little embarrassing, I've found Succeed Socially to be surprisingly useful reading. There's a bunch of articles on social skills, pitched at a borderline-Asperger's audience; a lot of it is the guy saying (in more polite words) "other people don't want to hear a four-hour lecture on your model train collection." But a lot of it is really good, thought-through, well-written advice on how to meet and make friends and treat them well.
It's easy for someone like me, who's somewhat awkward but definitely not at the train-collection level of social disaster, to brush this off as something they don't need. Or even to feel a bit humiliated to be looking at it, an admission of dorkness second only to wearing Pull-Ups to bed. But a lot of it has been very helpful for me. I have a lot of bad social habits--"everyone listen to me!"; "I'm only making cruel fun of you because I like you"; "screw it, I'm going back to my cave"--that this site has helped with.
And more than anything, it has a good attitude. The guy's outlook on life is that most people are worth knowing and that the best thing you can do is genuinely like other people. If you're interested in someone and want to spend time with them, you should basically just say so. The site doesn't directly address dating at all, but I'd say it's the best dating-advice site I've ever seen.
If you're wondering why this post is tagged "PUA," that's a hint. (Well, okay, it's really just a cue for Eurosabra--oh lord, I said his name, he's like Candlejack--to appear and explain why he doesn't find this "treating people decently technique" nearly as effective as the Performatively Masculine Half-Neg Strength Word of +2 CHA.)
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