All My Sex Is Elsewhere
Today, I have two essays for you, but neither of them are located here. Sorry; you’ll have to click twice. An inconvenience, I know.
The first essay is at a new magazine called Kink-e-Zine, a San Francisco-based online publication devoted towards sane and safe kinky sexual practices. I’ve agreed to write a monthly humor column for them, and my first one is a letter called “Dear Dude Who Sends My Female Friends Pictures Of His Penis.” It’s an analysis of why men are so trigger-happy to send women cock shots, and it starts like this:
Some women might be interested if your penis was, like, the Monolith from 2001, something so huge that people squinted and said, “Is that a sequoia?” But no. You introduce yourself with an excruciatingly average cock shot.
Now, I think I know why you do this, but let me explain my logic.
See, to you, women’s brains are basically this annoying lock to be cracked in order to get at the juicy sexiness beneath. You really could care less what they think; what you want are tits and a hot pussy, and if you have to mutter a few magical incantations like “I see” and “That’s interesting” to get it, well, you’ll tolerate some conversation.
But largely, to you, women are a buffet….
I go on from there, analyzing motivations. But this happens a lot on FetLife, and I’ve heard horror stories from women on OKCupid. Really, dudes? Stop making me look bad.
My other writing is on FetLife (theFacebookforKinksters), discussing scenes from Cleveland’s very own Kinko de Mayo festival. They had all sorts of classes on various topics including erotic wrestling, needleplay, flogging to catharsis, and one pretty brutal crucifixion demo (which, unfortunately, I missed). I wrote up my experiences of the weekend, detailing my first fire play with strangers, how I sprained my finger erotic wrestling, and my new toy.
The writeup is here, and I think it’s a pretty fun read. Check it out if you’re inclined.
I had a conversation on Friday night, which I then translated into a conversation on my blog. The two are not the same.
The conversation, as presented, was such:
“So you play a lot at the dungeon,” I asked. “You’re clearly very sensual and body-oriented. Can I ask why are you sexually monogamous?”
“Couple of reasons, some bad,” she replied. “The bad one is that I’ve got it very good with my partner and don’t want to screw things up.”
“Stop right there,” I said. “That’s a good reason. An awesome reason. Don’t you dare think that’s a bad reason for being monogamous.”
Now, that’s not actually the conversation I had. The conversation I had was actually over the course of about twenty minutes of asking how she met her partner, and hearing the origin story (I love romantic meet-cutes), and seeing the profoundly silly grin she got when she talked about her partner. Then we discussed the difficulties of living in separate cities when you’re in love (which I did with Gini, so I sympathized), and some of the issues involved in being in hot, sensual BDSM play and not crossing boundaries.
Then I said, “Look, I know the question itself carries some weight, so please don’t think I’m judging you in any way – but given that you play so damn sensually, do you mind me asking why you’ve chosen to be sexually monogamous?”
Very different take? Yes. But when I write essays, I change conversations all the time. In this case, I knew my ultimate point was to talk about how choosing monogamy because you just don’t want to risk losing your current love is a valid choice. And an accurately transcribed conversation would pull that punch of revelation, which I planned to have about halfway through.
Also, I scrub off details before I post. Discussing more about this person’s relationship and what I knew about it would risk putting someone on a stage they never asked for, and I am always cautious with that. My conversations as presented in this blog are often heavily changed; after posting, I asked Gini whether she knew who I had spoken to, and when she guessed wrong twice, I knew I’d obfuscated correctly. In truth, I can actually neither confirm nor deny that the person who I spoke to was heterosexual or a woman or a conversation I even had on Friday. But providing more context means providing more identifiable marks.
So I boiled down a long and complex and intensely personal conversation to three lines that summarized the heart of it. I often do this. This is why I tell people that what’s in my journal is me, but my blog is not who I actually am. It’s an edited version that sometimes makes me sound better than I am, or sometimes makes me sound worse – all depending on what approach I think will sell the central point of my essays better.
The gist is there, always. The details? Not so much.
No, Really, Not Wanting To Lose What You Have Is Wonderful.
“So you play a lot at the dungeon,” I asked. “You’re clearly very sensual and body-oriented. Can I ask why are you sexually monogamous?”
“Couple of reasons, some bad,” she replied. “The bad one is that I’ve got it very good with my partner and don’t want to screw things up.”
“Stop right there,” I said. “That’s a good reason. An awesome reason. Don’t you dare think that’s a bad reason for being monogamous.”
One of the things that pisses me off about poly folk is their insistence that poly is some higher level of relationship, and if you can’t hack poly, then you’re a lesser form of being. This is usually expounded the loudest by people who are trying very hard to get into your pants.
But monogamy isn’t better or worse than poly; it’s simply a different dynamic, and trying to judge which method is superior is like having heated debates on whether the fork or spoon is more awesome. It’s all about what you want.
And look, even within poly relationships, there’s a limit. I’m always sexually curious, and I have some new deep and caring friendships who mean the world to me… But right now, I have a wife and two wonderful long-term girlfriends and a serious dating partner. That’s really about all I can handle. It’s difficult keeping that many relationships spinning at times, and adding one more serious, full-time relationship would probably throw everything out of whack.
So in a sense, I’m in the same place as my friend: reaching for another full-time girlfriend would probably spoil this very good thing I have going here, and I don’t want to risk that. And I can’t see why that’s bad.
Not wanting to be polyamorous because you’re afraid of losing the solid, loving relationship you have now? Valid. Wonderful. Eminently defensible. Nobody has to be poly, and anyone who tells you otherwise is selling you something. Probably something that’s not worth too much in the first place.
The Avengers: A Spoiler-Free Review
Joss Whedon understands what we want out of the Avengers, which is not to see Thor and Iron Man teaming up.
No, what we want is to see Thor kicking Iron Man’s ass.
Thankfully, this is what the Avengers delivers: lots of hot hero-on-hero action. Who cares about the villains? We’re not nearly as invested. What we need to see is our favorite hero battling our other favorite hero to a standstill.
And ho, there is lots of that. Delivered for competent reasons – the Avengers have very good reason to be hostile to each other. And the fight scenes are pants-wettingly cool, in that sort of musky good-fluid kind of way.
The Avengers is stuffed with so many characters that character development practically has to happen via pithy quotes, which is why it’s a good thing that the King of One-Liners, Joss Whedon, wrote it. The plot generally keeps moving, and the Big Bad is helpfully played by Loki, who is played so wonderfully that you barely notice he has practically no character development or motivation at all.
Frankly, the least interesting character on the team is The Hulk, and Whedon seems to have made up for that by giving the Hulk all the best… well, you can’t really say “lines,” but let’s go “moments.”
There are a couple of minor issues I have: Captain America becomes a tactical genius at the end not by dint of anything he did in either of the two movies, but because he’s a military guy. And the final battle consists of just a shade too many generic mooks getting pounded, leading to a hair of tedium.
But overall? What you’re looking for, it delivers. Big, splashy superhero battles done with coolness. Jaw-dropping fight scenes. Laughs. As far as a tentpole movie to kick off the summer season (sort of…) it works, and as such I can tell you that if you had the urge to see this movie you’re almost guaranteed to be correct in your assessment.
Not that this was going to stop you from seeing it this weekend anyway. But let me reassure you that the money you spent on the ticket already is certainly worth it.
Busy Busy Bees
Here, I show you my bald spot and my comfort with bees. I’m not sure which is more terrifying.