Obama Wins Nobel Peace Prize

I was surprised by the news as well.

I wasn’t upset by it, of course, I was merely shocked that a domestically controversial figure was selected.  Initially, I was concerned.  I envisioned outraged comments decrying the honor and dismissing the award as a meaningless pat on the back from the inconsequential worldwide community who doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a salt of the earth working man who does real good for his family (or something).

I found a lot of compelling articles from both sides of the spectrum criticizing the prematureness of the award.  It’s true that well Obama has made a lot of refreshing promises, he hasn’t had enough time to follow through.  These ideas take time to materialize.  The relationships between countries in conflict are terribly complicated, and they can’t be resolved in mere months.

At the same time, I understand the desire of some (and obviously members of the Norwegian committee) to encourage progress.  Obama has a lot of roadblocks to contend with – both abroad and at home.  He’s a leader who’s both loved, hated, doubted and supported by his country.  Some call him a genius, others deny he’s a real person.  He has a tough line to toe, and I can appreciate influential people wanting to give ideologically positive policies a leg up.

I can understand both arguments, and I always love a good discussion.

With news like this, however, comes the deluge of asinine comments.  Fox News linked to an article that chronicled Obama’s first 12 days in office (the list of nominees for the prize was finalized by February 1, which was 12 days after Obama took office).  It said, among other things, that he partied and skipped church. The article ended with something like this:

“There you have it.  You want the Nobel Prize? Just skip church!”

I’d say skipping church is usually better than advocating war and torture – but that’s coming from someone outside the moral majority, so perhaps I’m mistaken.

Concerned Women for America (I always refer back to them) said that the decision is appalling considering Obama is at the helm of two wars.  This is true, but these weren’t wars he started (and one of which he voted against as a senator).  I also suspect that should Bush have been awarded the prize (to liberal disdain, of course), CWFA would have argued that he was waging a just and righteous war to protect Western freedom and democracy.  When Obama received the award whilst still entangled in wars that predated his presidency, his position was suddenly abhorrent and a black mark on the prestigious prize.

I have to say what amused me most was an article posted on CNN.com that quoted top Taliban officials.  The Taliban was, of course, appalled.  They said the prize was a joke given Obama’s promise to send more troops to Afghanistan.  One couldn’t expect them to say otherwise, but the most amusing detail was that the article said that the Taliban called from a private number in an undisclosed location?

Who, upon hearing this morning’s news, decided to call the Taliban?

Seriously?

What did CNN think they were going to say?

Who had their number?

If the Taliban contacted them, why?  Why would they call CNN to express their horror?  Wouldn’t it have been easier to just make a video and post it online? It’s odd that the inherent non-violence of a casual phone call is only ever used when warring leaders wish to call each other stupid via major news outlets.  Perhaps people should reach for their secret phones to talk about real concessions and solutions.

In ironic news, the Taliban and the Republicans are officially in agreement on something other than the necessity of widely imposed religious orthodoxy.  Someone needs to rewrite their argument.

I suggest opponents of Obama’s award go the “the Nobel Prize is stupid!” route.

I’m Worried

After class this past Friday I happened to catch the last half of the The View (my mother PVRs it regularly).

I enjoy The View from time to time.  It’s entertaining more than enlightening, but still a fine way to pass an hour or so.  Things are said that I disagree with (and find stupid), but most political discussions are usually enthralling in these paranoid and hysterical times of clashing ideologies and wild conspiracy theories.

Last week, that woman who (I think) is famous for having a fight with her friend and marrying some sleazy camera whore-turned born again Christian, was co-hosting.  Her name is Heidi Montag, and she said something that I could hardly laugh at I was so appalled.  She, along with fellow (but permanent) co-host Sherri Shepherd reacted positively to a stunningly ignorant political ad made by Christian media darling Kirk Cameron decrying the atheist takeover of post-secondary education.  Cameron claimed that non-religious professors were brainwashing students to abandon faith and embrace, well, godlessness.

Shepherd praised him for telling the public that God is, indeed, being cast out of schools.  Montag agreed that Cameron was speaking truth to power and reminding the public that there’s discrimination brewing against faithful folks.  Shepherd said she was horrified to learn that a friend was told by a college professor that she couldn’t use the bible in a research paper.

I’ll bet you dollars to fucking donuts that that friend wanted to use it for a science or history class.  If that’s the case, then the bible should not have been used as supporting evidence.  The bible should never be used to prop up an academic argument unrelated to theology.  The bible could be helpful in the analytical discussion of historical literature, particularly medieval material, but it would not enhance a discussion of politics or history or science.  Just as one could not reference King Lear in a physics paper, the gospel of Matthew is not relevant to a discussion about biology.

Montag said that creationism should be taught alongside evolution.  Others, shockingly, nodded their heads in agreement (not Whoopi or Joy Behar or Barbara Walters).  Walters responded by saying that the debate has been going on for a long time.  Whoopi Goldberg said that science is science and creationism is religion, and religious studies can be pursued on any college or university campus.  No one said, outright, that Cameron, Shepherd, and Montag were talking nonsense.

Creationism is the Christian belief that God waved his hand and created one man, one woman, the planet, and the animals in seven days.  It has no basis in fact, it’s not scientifically sound, and it doesn’t resonate with billions of other people who subscribe to different theories (some of which are actually upheld by facts).  It does not belong in a secular class.  Keeping it out of a post-secondary science curriculum is not discrimination.  It’s not a scandal or a thumbed nose at intellectuals desperately seeking balance in their studies.  It’s a way to preserve logic.

There seems to be reluctance to tell ridiculous people “no!”

All of those fringy conspiracy theorists who blog about Obama’s communist/fascist/muslim/Kenyan background? They’re mocked on Comedy Central and HBO, but not in the mainstream media, and certainly not by the politicians they seek to discredit and, quite possibly, endanger.  We’re told that they’re just angry and misinformed, that they represent just the tiniest minority of the GOP base.

However, conservative websites that are politically active and influential are posting or linking to far-right websites with articles “confirming” the right’s greatest fears about Obama.  Concerned Women for America frequently links to WorldNetDaily, a site that calls upon “experts” to show “new” evidence that Obama is, indeed, an African rebel usurping the now-denigrated White House throne.

CWFA also links to “respected” websites that prove, somehow, that the health care reforms are secret ploys to destroy the elderly and disabled and cripple America’s economy so the czars can rise and recreate the glorious Mother Russia of the Stalin years.  They also have an unflattering picture of a scowling Obama that’s accompanied by rolling text that reminds viewers that he kills babies (and probably eats them in the same hut where he practices Islam-inspired witchcraft).

A conservative website recently removed an inflammatory article that said that a military coup to remove Obama might not be so bad.

How long has this been going on?

Some say that this is a consequence of lingering racism.  It probably is, but I think it’s about more than that.

In 2004, anti-Bush sentiment was on the rise and conservative supporters were getting their backs up about criticism of their president.  He was protecting them from another terrorist attack.  He was taking WMDs away from Saddam, and even if they weren’t there, well, they were giving oppressed people a chance at American prosperity.  He was a good, God-fearing man with the best interests of good ol’ America in his heart.  He was narrowing contraceptive rights, pushing back progress on sexual education and stopping the gay marriage movement in its tracks.  He was feeding antibiotics into a bloodstream poisoned by Clinton-era liberalism.

Ah, those liberals.

In Europe, liberal often means right of center.  In Canada (my neck of the woods), liberal means center.  In the U.S., liberal (to some) means criminal and depraved.

Perhaps some traditional types see America as an untouched, slender young white woman.  She’s blonde and fair and delicate.  She goes to church with her parents, babysits the neighbour’s children, pets dogs, helps her mama cook and sew, reads the bible with her pa, wears a pink ribbon in her hair and never, ever thinks about boys.  One day, while she’s gathering flowers in a meadow, a hulking, snarling, drooling liberal wolfman emerges from the forest in torn jeans and fucks the ever living shit out of her.  He fills her pristine body with lecherous semen.  He makes her want to destroy free enterprise and poke fetuses in the eye with paperclips.  In a few short years, she’ll covered in tattoos and spending way too much money on tofu and sex clubs.

Perhaps some of the vitriol aimed at Obama has to do with his supposed liberalism, not only his race.  He’s the embodiment of that feral monster threatening to destroy a noble land from the inside.  He’s going to turn people away from their values, and he’ll laugh and dance while churches burn and capitalism falls (nevermind that Christ probably never envisioned Wall Street when he praised the Golden Rule).

When will someone – someone powerful – say that this president is not out to get the working class? When will he or she say that this outrage is nonsense, this childlike impudence abhorrent, and this online flame-fanning unacceptable? When will people admit that sometimes one “side” is wrong and should be shunned by silence until they’re willing to play nicely?

I like compromise, and I like fairness.  Letting these people trample debate by giving credence to their cause is counterproductive.  Don’t take away their right to express themselves, but counter their arguments with stern assertions that their ranting and raving is illogical.

This is worrisome period in time.  Not as bad as others before it, but bad enough that something needs to be said about honesty, integrity, and worthwhile debate.  No more shrieking about police states and white men concentration camps.  Seriously.

Fat Politics

I’ve long been a loyal and devoted follower of Dan Savage (a great sex columnist, and an even greater writer).  I came upon his column while perusing a Now Magazine during an unbearably long lunch break.  

Being a life-long suburbanite, I never had access to an alternative weekly before.  At home, the only papers to hit my doorstep are the Toronto Star and Mississauga News.  Neither publication spends much time discussing obscure sexual fetishes, or advertising for strip clubs and escort services.  I also went to a Catholic high school, where no such reading material was readily available.  So you can imagine my delight when attendance at a notoriously liberal university led to the discovery of salacious material embedded in innocuous newsprint.  

I fell in love with Dan instantly, and shared his divine insight with everyone I knew.  

One day, he wrote about complaints from disgruntled readers.  He had angered them by saying that larger girls look bad in too-tight pants.  Specifically, he was referring to the roll of fat that hangs over a snug waistband.  More specifically, he was commenting on the phenomenon of size 8 women trying to wear size 4 pants, and looking like ruptured sausages because of it.  Now, the sight of strangled skin struggling to free itself from the confines of hip-crushing pants is loveably referred to as “muffin-topping.”  The consensus of the people (fashion experts, casual observers, my mother, etc) is that this trend cannot continue.  Fashionable attire is supposed to make you look better, not worse.

However, the argument was not about what looks good, but rather the “right” to feel good in unflattering outfits.  It seems like that excess flesh is political, a “fuck you” statement to a world that values women’s bodies rather than their minds.  It’s not terribly out of line to wave the finger at the media.  Hollywood likes its women dirty-skinny (and it likes to deride them for it, too).  No two people are built the same, and not everyone is meant to slither underneath closed doors or have legs the width of a man’s wrist.

However, we must be able to agree that a 5′2 person should not weigh 400 pounds.  Yet we can’t.  According to outraged Savage Love readers, being fat is just like being gay – a permanent, unchangeable aspect of one’s being.  To advise a torn man to gently confront his wife about her 90 pound weight gain is to encourage hate and discrimination.  

People counter these arguments with offensive remarks.  They decry the existence of disgusting excess weight, and demand that the whiny fatties hit a gym and stop eating gallons of ice-cream.

Why, I wonder, can people not be reasonable?  Why must things become so political?

It seems to me like excess weight (as in weight that’s close to double what it should be) is not always a product of laziness (God knows that they’re are lazy and inactive skinny people), but rather a product of a culture that’s lost touch with basic health principles.  Our portions are enormous, our cheap food loaded with fat, and our favourite gourmet lattes filled with sugar.  A lot of jobs require nothing more than the use of fingers to punch numbers into a computer.  

It cannot be denied that obesity is linked to health problems, but not a lot is done to curb the problem at a national level.  People would be horrified if the government taxed sugary pops (or sodas, for any American people reading this) like it does cigarettes, or forced restaurants (fast food ones included) to abide by pre-determined health standards (and they wouldn’t, because franchises are generally good for the economy).  Instead, we (sort of) encourage people to make healthy choices.

“Eat an apple,” we say.  ”Go for a walk.”

There’s nothing wrong with making a personal decision to eat less and move more, but it seems like some people don’t know how much they truly eat or how little they actually move.  North Americans have grown so accustomed to platters of pasta and buckets of fries (I’m only using mild hyperbole here) that some would find anything smaller dissatisfying.  Also, does everyone know that one can of Coke contains up to eight teaspoons of sugar?  Do people know that a venti white mocha from Starbucks has almost as many calories as a quarter-pounder with cheese from McDonalds?  

When people hear the word “diet,” they think of deprivation – of raw vegetables and tiny cuts of skinless, boneless chicken breasts.  Really, it can be hard to tell how much is too much, and it’s harder still when the fries that make your hips swell seem to melt off of your skinny (but perhaps more sedentary) friend.  

So, if there was less fast-food, less pop and smaller portions, would people be smaller?  Yes, they absolutely would.  A plump figure was considered attractive in the 18th century because everyone was thin and hungry.  Now we’re more than satiated, and we have the muffin-tops to show for it.  

Instead of arguing over what looks good, and what should look good, and why thinking a certain person doesn’t look good is akin to a lynching, we should be trying to figure out why this debate exists.  Why do some people need two seats on an airplane?  Is it because they’re lazy wastes of life?  Drains on the medical system? Inconveniences in crowded areas?  Or is because we’re a culture that consumes and consumes and consumes?  A culture that wants more food and more TV shows and more electronics?  We want big houses and big cars and big walk-in closets.  We want instant food for low-prices.  We’re too busy to cook and go grocery shopping.  

It’s not right or just or fair to make a thicker person feel like a lazy slob – he or she is no such thing.  However, we cannot, as a culture, over-consume something and incur no ill effects.  Too little food will kill, and it seems too much will too.  

What’s to blame isn’t bigotry or intolerance, but rather ignorance.  It seems we don’t know why we are the way we are.  We’re bigger than we want to be (and much bigger than we’re told we should be).  It’s hard when you’re tired and busy and want a quick burger before bedtime.  It’s hard when every restaurant serves you a meal that could easily be shared with two other people.  It’s hard when high-fat foods are delicious.  It’s hard when many jobs require that we just sit and stare at a computer screen.  

The problem has more to do with a culture obsessed with size and convenience.  Perhaps we’d all be benefitted by caring less about both.

So, It’s Been Awhile…

Those of you who check this defunct collection of ramblings have likely given up on me.  I don’t blame you, I’ve been gone awhile.  Six or seven months, give or take.  I haven’t been terribly busy, just terribly uninspired.  

I’m torn on the concept of blogging.  I like it, and I like doing it, but sometimes I just don’t feel like it.  I try to talk about greater issues, so as to interest a greater number of people.  No one wants to hear about my mom or my homework or my dwindling bank account.  People might want to hear about my scandalous sexual escapades and wild fantasies, but I feel weird sharing them because a lot of people who read this would know who I’m talking about.  Sharing that sort of thing would be rude, and in poor taste.  That said, I can still say things that are in poor taste.  So here is a random collection of my most obnoxious opinions.

But before that, I should welcome 2009 to…Earth.  

I had a good 2008.  It had its sad moments and unhappy hours.  It had its tears, but it had many, many joys.  On a serious note, I can honestly say that this was one of the best years of my life.  I learned so much, and accomplished things (little things, but things nonetheless).  I outgrew some bad habits and developed some good ones (and a few more bad ones, perhaps).  I met an incredible guy, and made many new and wonderful friends.  I may have lost some too, and I won’t forget that either.  

I lost that 15 pounds I’d be whining about since high school, I got over a startling personal disappointment, and I went back to school.  I wasn’t always in the best of moods, but I was in the best of places.  I spent 2007 nursing disappointments and grievances, and 2008 made up for all of it.  I can only hope that this year as good as the last.

Here’s to good times, good friends, good memories, and great loves.  

As for my obnoxious opinions, here they be:

I hate people with dumb “artistic” opinions.  These people tend to be young, but they can be old.  They can even be me, at times, but hopefully not often.

While traveling on a streetcar back in October, I heard two 15-ish year old girls talking about Hedley.  They were discussing that, “we’re putting out fires and changing car tires” song – things no members of Hedley do or will likely do…ever.  The great top 40 summer hit about being a working stiff reminiscing about high school, it seems, is deeper than meets the…ear.

“I don’t really like the song that much,” said one girl, “but, like, I really like the message, you know?”

No, I don’t know.  There is no “message” in that song.  None.  It’s about nothing.  

None of the members of Hedley are old enough to mourn their youth, and I’d wager that their lives now are far better than the ones they led in high school.  Oh, and they don’t put out fires, nor would they likely have to change their own tires.  

Onto Barack Obama…

I like Obama.  I was glad when he won.  In fact, I was overjoyed.  You don’t need to be American to celebrate this change in American political winds.  He’s young, he’s black, he’s charismatic, he’s eloquent, he’s interesting.  

He hasn’t given anyone reason to believe that he’s a communist, fascist, dictator, child molester, satanist or, as Jon Stewart said, witch.  He’s not even particularly revolutionary as far as American politics go.  He has a relatively socially liberal voting record, but social liberalism isn’t viewed by most first-world nations as all that radical.  A lot of countries pay no mind to abortion and gay marriage, and those countries haven’t been struck by God-sent meteors, nor have they been swallowed up by hell.  I bet you $2 that they won’t be (I’d bet more, but I’m broke, and broke people must be frugal).  

He said, “spread the wealth,” not, “impose upon the people a system that will guarantee no one makes more than $10 an hour, regardless of whether or not he/she sells coffee or operates on hearts.”  

Are these people serious?  Honestly?

I suspect that those who deal with little oppression crave it, just so they can protest and feel heroic – Like Sean Penn or Clint Eastwood.  I’d almost be willing to bet a sum larger than $2 that should real war, violence and oppression settle on North American soil, all of those nationalists would flee, if possible, to the libertine cesspool across the Atlantic.  

Also, that study that linked sexy TV shows to teen pregnancies?

No, the correlation between such things needs to be examined more closely, and other factors need to be taken into account.  The most damning argument is the fact that the teen pregnancy rate in the Netherlands is 5 per 1000, while the United States boasts a 50 per 1000 rate.  The Netherlands is home to the city of Amsterdam, a tourist hotspot with legal brothels, live sex shows, and stores that sell the most disgusting and horrific pornography ever made (women with horses, horses with men, women with armed rapists, women with open wounds, etc).  

Why the disparity?  If a sex-saturated culture guaranteed young parenthood, why aren’t European countries overrun with teenage mothers?  

Because people aren’t as uptight about sex.  They don’t shriek about the dangers of comprehensive sex-ed (which does not include teaching five year olds how to give blowjobs, trust me), they don’t call bare breasts “obscene,” and they don’t promote puritanical values while using erotic ads to entice people to buy drain cleaner.  The hypocritical disconnect between actions and theories, and the denial of the importance of supplying teens with adequate knowledge of contraceptive options leads to teen pregnancies.  Let’s not blame HBO.  

Speaking of pop culture, here’s my take on quality entertainment:

Good TV shows:  I’m flighty about TV, I have a hard time committing to shows.  However, my favourites for this year were True Blood and Summer Heights High.  One’s a vampire drama (one with hot and graphic sex scenes) and the other a hysterical satire of life at an Australian high school.  It’s not as over-the-top as it seems, and that’s what’s great about it.  Everyone has met a Ja’mie or two…or three.  

I don’t have much to say about movies, but I will say that this year re-invigorated my interest in literature.  I read a lot, which was nice.  I didn’t read much upon graduating from university, probably because I was temporarily tired of learning.  My favourite book(s)?

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen.  An entertaining and engaging look at circus life during the Great Depression.  It has cliche dramatic elements – an affair, a cruel husband, a gang of tough workers hailing from the school of hard knocks, betrayal, suspense, etc.  It also has insight into an exciting industry struggling to thrive during tough times, and those who survived and those who did not (and those who did not deserve to).  

As Forrest Gump would say, that’s all I have to say about that.

Enjoy the New Year, everyone.

Muurrrdeer Hiiiiimmmm!!!

So, I’ve been thinking about social politics again.  Social politics are probably the only politics I think about, because I’m a shallow and superficial person.  I articulate myself well (sometimes), but I’m not overly intelligent (a fact I’ve come to accept).  I have a limited understanding of complex facts and figures, and I still count on my fingers.  What’s 10 per cent of 127 dollars?  I don’t know, I stopped doing math after grade 10. 

However, I do like a hot discussion about a hot topic – like, say, an attractive politician’s affair with a sultry blonde subordinate.

I moreso like reading people’s reactions to it.

There’s a lot of indignation regarding politician’s sexual indiscretions.  A lot of titillation and fascination too, granted.  Still, when news of an affair breaks, people decry the immorality and some (not all) lament the decline in family values and God-fearing personal integrity. 

In the case of John Edwards, a certain degree of disappointed head-shaking is called for.  His wife is terminally ill and has been battling cancer since 2004.  A woman who has lost a son and her health is now being forced to deal with the humiliation of having the world know her charismatic husband fucked around on her with a woman he may or may not have impregnated (the jury is still out on that one).

I feel for her, we all feel for her. 

However, what’s most fascinating about this incident (and others like it) is that in the United States, sexual dalliances – when revealed – are always career-killers (unless you’re Bill Clinton).  However, to be fair, Clinton suffered a fair bit once the world found out about his little on-the-side BJ.

I’m not defending people who cheat.  Cheating is hurtful, harmful and destructive.  It is not, however, a political issue.  It’s a personal one, involving several people – not millions or billions.   Some would argue that infidelity is indicative of poor character (and it can be), but it probably doesn’t affect how a person does his or her job.  People behave differently in their interpersonal relationships than they do in their professional lives (generally speaking, anyways).  Also, there’s probably no one cause of unfaithfulness.

In the case of Edwards, living with a terminally ill woman may have compelled him to seek carefree sex elsewhere.  That’s not to say what he did was excusable, but it puts the situation into perspective.  What he did was probably more careless and weak than malicious.  People seek different kinds of sexual fulfillment for vast reasons, most of which cannot be understood by themselves, let alone a gossipy public. 

I’ve become inclined to think that the public prefers to focus on small, scandalous issues because they’re easier to understand and discuss.  Understanding economics and public policy can be trickier. It requires more study and concentration, and a deeper understanding of the subject matter.

Any asshole can spout opinions on matters of social significance.  Even politicians will choose to debate frivolous issues that affect small pockets of people instead of major issues with world-wide implications.

Why talk about a failed war, plummeting economy and escalating environmental damage when you can incite rage by shrieking about the grave danger inherent in allowing the state to sanction and condone men marrying men?  People are more likely to get uppity about trivial issues that affect their emotions rather than their lives.  The idea of gay people marrying disturbs some people psychologically.  Yet, when these marriages start happening, the lives of numerous naysayers won’t change overmuch.  They’ll work the same jobs, make the same salaries, eat the same foods, live in the same houses, etc.

People will rally against things that, in the grand scheme of things, don’t matter all that much.  Similar logic can be applied to the abortion debate.  The idea of abortion causes emotional unrest, but doesn’t affect people all that much.  Abortions are, at the end of the day, between women and their doctors.  No one ever need know that a fetus was unable to develop.  The world hasn’t spontaneously combusted, nor will it. 

Over-the-counter availability of the morning after pill?  That chaps the ass of a few people – and why?  Because the knowledge that people are having sex outside of the confines of a child-wanting marriage bothers some people.  Yet, that pre-marital sex isn’t a world issue.  It’s a personal issue all around. 

STDs – well, most are preventable and almost all (with the exception of AIDS and herpes) are curable.  They’re social problems in so far as they’ll be dealt with by certain individuals at some point, much like other diseases.  In fact, STDs are less problematic than cancers, which are prevalent and far more difficult to treat and cure. 

I’d even go so far as to say that HIV is not a crisis in the West.  It  was a crisis back in 1987 when no one knew what it was or how to prevent it.  People know more now, and can – if they choose – protect themselves.  Condoms and routine testing are easily accessible.  Collective social crisis averted, I’d say. 

Still, it’s easier to dismiss someone based on their sexual proclivities or tolerance of sticky social subjects.  It’s harder to think of big issues, issues that can and will affect the world at large.  Issues that will, inevitably, affect one’s life.  Instead, people debate subject matter close to their hearts.  There’s nothing wrong with passion or thoughtfulness, but it shouldn’t dominate political discourse.  In the end, a lot of hot topics don’t really matter. 

Gay people getting married?  A good thing, because nothing particularly bad can come it.  It can make you uneasy, but everyone has to deal with things that make them uneasy. 

It’s easy to call for someone’s head when he does something wrong in his personal life, but it’s not particularly healthy or affective.  Someone else’s blowjob is someone else’s blowjob.  Your life wont be any different tomorrow because of it.

$10, 000 or More for Sex?

Seriously.

There’s no sex act - nor sex partner - worth 10 grand.  There are so few things in life that are free.  Free things are generally cheap things, and cheapness often leaves one feeling unfulfilled.  Sex can be done for free, and still be vigorously enjoyed.  That’s one of its many charms.

Yes, I understand some men’s (and perhaps some women’s) desire for prostitutes.  Some people are awkward, ugly and devoid of social graces.  Some cannot form long-lasting relationships or pick up at bars.  Some fail at acquiring a desperate or curious partner via Craigslist. 

For these people, sex is $20 – $50 away.  I won’t condone or condemn prostitution, but rather point out that it does serve a purpose.  Sex is a highly sought after entity, and some people simply cannot get laid by enthusiastic volunteers.  Do I think monetarily-influenced, back-alley intercourse is pleasant?  Not really – but I haven’t had it, so perhaps I’m mistaken. 

While I understand the (dare I say it) “need” for sex workers, I don’t understand the need for monstrously expensive prostitution rings that run wealthy clients upwards of $10,000.  What do these women do?  What do these men expect?  What kind of outrageous acts are being committed in the penthouse suites of the Washington Ritz-Carleton?

Furthermore, why agree to spend such a staggering sum on sex?  Sex can be obtained relatively easily by rich and powerful men.  Power, even when wielded by a portly,  balding man, can seduce almost anyone.  People crave prestige by association.  People love being embroiled in hot scandals.  Well, some people do.  Others are truly content – and happy – to live cautiously (and yes, such a thing is most certainly possible). 

The point is that rich and powerful guys – particularly rich and powerful public figures – can have sex with hot, young things for free.  Or for the price of a steak or lobster dinner (and to be fair, she’s probably just going to order a Greek salad anyways).  They don’t need to import foreign women like furniture, they don’t need to join high-end organizations dedicated to fulfilling the sexual fantasies of bored socialites, they don’t need to drop thousands of dollars on pussy.  Period.

There must be a motivator at work here, a deeper motivator than mere the desire to fuck hot women.   A man like Eliot Spitzer could sleep with a hot woman without spilling the contents of his wallet into her $5,000 panties.  Easily.

Perhaps the acquisition of wealth and status carries with it a heightened sense of sexual entitlement.  It makes sense, really.  People who have a lot often want more, such is the nature of the beast.  In a way, a constant need to strive for betterment is a positive thing.  Sometimes, however, it grows exponentially larger than it should or ought to. 

I suppose that, for some, there comes a point where sex itself becomes a status symbol.  The best sex, some must assume, costs a great amount of money.  Sex with a hefty price-tag is top-notch and of exceptional quality – like Dom Perignon and Persian carpet.  It’s completely removed from the emotional spectrum of human experiences.  It’s not about genuine passion, but rather detached lust that transcends base sexual desire. 

That seems shallow to me, empty even.

Sure, one might witness extreme spectacle bordering on Olympic sport.  That, however, could probably be witnessed in Amsterdam for 50 Euro.

Risking marriages, jobs and reputations is dangerous.  I can only hope that the over-priced fornication is more than worth the potentially devastating consequences.  The sex had best be akin to a religious experience, rendering one a deeply enlightened being capable of breaking glass with the intensity of his multiple orgasms.

Somehow, I doubt that’s the case.

Casual Sex Makes People Kill Themselves

Heath Ledger’s possible cause of death.

I like to stop by CWFA every once in awhile.  I like to see what topics have those ladies so concerned.  What, I wonder, is plaguing the steadfast souls of the devout women of America today?

Sometimes their pet issues are valid ones, such as sex trafficking.  Few people actively and consistently work to raise awareness of the plight of foreign (and sometimes local) women forced into prostitution.  That’s a serious issue that I (and hopefully many others) can get behind. 

However, most of the women’s (and one man’s) concerns are frivolous and petty.  The website consistently attempts to wage war on things it cannot (and should not) defeat – birth control, Planned Parenthood, homosexuality, anal sex, etc.  However, social politics are often complex, and vehemently defended by those who devote themselves to them. 

When you have a pet issue, you’ll promote it any cost. 

For CWFA, one of those pet issues is pre-marital sex.  It ruins lives, they argue.  It contributes not only to societal decay, but to disease, depression and, well, failure at life.  It’s something spoken about with sad eyes and pursed lips.  A ”sad shame” - much like poverty. 

Apparently, one writer theorizes, it may have been one of the many straws that broke the camel’s back and led to Heath Ledger’s shocking and sudden death.  Heath was obviously depressed because he was unmarried and sexually active.  His heart, too fragile to withstand the horrid strain of giving his body to women outside of the matrimonial boudoir, withered away to nothing. 

If only – if only! – he’d said “no” to sex and “yes” to traditional, conservative family values.  As if the only time one’s heart can be broken is if he/she engages in pre-marital sex with his/her partner.  As if no one has ever been hurt - deeply and irreversibly – by platonic friends, relatives and non-sexual romantic partners.  As if depression isn’t about a great hopelessness or sadness caused by a vast number of factors. 

Mental illness is not directly related to sexual activity, though irresponsible or unsafe sex can become a symptom. 

Oh, if only every broken man or woman had just kept their pants on.  If only they drank less and went to church more. 

Depression and anxiety can plague even the purest of virgins.  They can manifest themselves in God-fearing, sermon-attending folk with nice spouses and beautiful children.  They affect the wealthy, the successful and the beautiful.  Broken relationships – be they sexual or non-sexual – damage people.  Abandonment hurts, regardless of how much sex was involved. 

Depression is bigger than sex.  It is bigger than personal politics.

Yes, it’s a terrible shame that severe sadness (and perhaps associated excess) caused the death of a young, promising actor with a blooming career and two-year old daughter.  What’s a worse shame is using a tragedy to push a puritanical political agenda.  The death of a troubled man is just that – the death of a troubled man.  It is probably not the result of indiscriminate fornication or a “liberal” lifestyle. 

A lot of people live liberally, and not all of them are found dead in their friend’s apartments before the age of 30.  A lot of people have various sexual partners, and find happiness still.  A lot of people have few to no sexual partners, and experience crippling sadness and depression. 

Hopelessness transcends personal politics. 

No one will ever know exactly what killed Heath Ledger.  Perhaps it was a broken heart.  Perhaps the break-up of his relationship with his fiance left him devastated.  However, that relationship was anything but “casual.”  I’m sure that, upon learning that his girlfriend was leaving him, Heath’s first thought wasn’t, “I feel so cheap and used because we had sex several times before marriage.”

Broken emotional bonds can be devastating.  Broken hearts are hard – impossible, at times – to deal with.  Like any physical injury, they require healing. 

However, there are most likely many contributing factors to Ledger’s reliance on prescription drugs.  It’s simplistic and disrespectful to throw “pre-marital sex” into the mix.  These concerned ladies – like most of us - did not know Ledger.  They cannot know what pain he endured, emotional or otherwise.  It was unwise, callous and irresponsible to atttibute his untimely demise to something as vague and personal as sexual choice.  It was merely a way to say, “see, see – sex kills talented people with great potential!”

I can’t say I’m surprised.  Forcing their politics into stranger’s personal lives is what conservative think-tanks like them do best. 

Hot Slutz!

There’s a nightly process your mind performs to dispose of mental excess.  It’s kind of a psychological elimination of sorts, I think.  It’s commonly referred to as “dreaming”, and everybody does it (and those who say they don’t are either lying or forgetful). 

I think dreaming works as a trash-removal mechanism, condensing your daily thoughts into non-sensical images and playing them one last time before firing them from your psyche.

Last night, I had an incredibly strange dream in which I was aggressively fooling around with another woman – only I was a short, brown-haired man.  She was tiny and meek, with a kind of kitten-ish cuteness about her.  She didn’t know what she was doing, and relied entirely on me to lead and initiate.

I don’t think this dream was about gender confusion or control issues, but rather about a book I saw at Chapters earlier that evening when I was shopping for a birthday present for my mother (the most non-sexual thing one can do).  This is a bit of a roundabout segue, but hear me out. 

For one of my classes last year, I wrote a slapdash feature on porn.  It was rushed, and therefore not the magnum opus of my academic career – but it did get me thinking, reading and researching.

A lot of the literature I found on porn worked to condemn or sternly criticize it. It’s a topic that cannot be objectively addressed, mostly because it deals with sex (and we know how objective people are about that).  More specifically, it deals with selling sex as a forbidden but commonly desired commodity (which it is).  Porn consists of “dirty” pictures, stories, videos, etc.  It’s designed to arouse – and somehow this is problematic for a vast number of social groups.

No one cares that food is designed to satiate hunger, but people do care that porn is, more often than not, designed to quench (temporarily, of course) sexual thirst.  Though sex is dealt with constantly in the mainstream media, it’s still a paradoxially taboo topic. 

How much is too much?  Are girl’s clothes too scandalous? Are strip clubs bad for marriages? Is sex on TV causing teen pregnancies? Is raunchy pop-culture fostering misogyny in men and low self-esteem in women?

Everyone has a socio-political opinion about porn.  Some feminists say it encourages rape, battery and chauvinism.  Some pro-family groups say it’s responsible for adultery, sexual dysfunction and broken marriages. Some church groups say it taints the mortal soul. Pro-porn advocates fall back on First Amendment rhetoric – it’s merely titillating art, and should be protected under anti-censorship laws. 

The book I found at Chapters, though short, dares to say that porn is exactly what you make of it.  It looks at the hysteria surrounding the genre, and examines what attitudes and ideas contribute to making porn what it is today. 

I’ve always thought of a porn as a manifestation of societal attitudes about sex.  If it contains misogyny, it’s not because it has a vested interest in woman-hating.  It contains misogyny because there’s a prevalent social attitude about women who have and enjoy non-traditional and/or indiscriminate sex.  If porn depicts sex as dirty, it’s because it exists in a world that sees it as such. 

There’s a lot of porn out there, and it caters to every kink and fetish you can imagine.  However, it’s designed to titillate people into masturbating – its purpose is purely sexual and self-serving.  It’s a leg up for one’s existing fantasies.  It fleshes out arousing ideas, albeit in an exaggerated fashion. 

It takes common cultural fascinations (large breasts, large penises, submissive partners, dominant partners, ridiculous lingerie, etc), exploits the “forbidden fruit” appeal of each, and immortalizes them on film or in print.  People then respond – often enthusiastically.

Still, sexual material isn’t something people are entirely comfortable with – even though many consume it.  So people talk about it being addictive, detrimental and dangerous.  Perhaps, in the hands of the wrong creator and consumer, it can be.  It can be violent, distasteful and obscene.  It can also be playful, funny and amusing.  Some people have inherently harmful attitudes about sex (including misogynistic ones), therefore some porn will reflect those beliefs.

Porn cannot be “fixed.” Strictly regulating or outright banning it won’t end violence against women, infidelity, divorce, or sexual dysfunction.  That said, porn that displays actual non-consensual (or otherwise coerced) abuse should be monitored (if such a thing is indeed possible).  But negative attitudes about sex and sexuality pre-date the rise of Internet pornography, and they’ll continue to exist should every XXX site cease to exist tomorrow (perish the thought!). 

Last night, I thought about porn.  I thought about porn and feminism, and porn and religion, and porn and relationships, and porn and fantasy.  Despite my critical approach to the subject, I still had a fucked-up dream about being a man dominating a coyly submissive young thing.  At the end of the day, you just can’t rationalize desire or one’s conception of it.  You can only hope that you and others will express it in an ethical, dignified manner.

Perhaps if attitudes about sex were more ethical and fair (not irresponsibly hedonistic), porn would reflect that. 

 Until then, well, enjoy your facial you dirty whore .

Naked Pictures? Oh Boy!

I’d like to think that, if I were someone’s prospective employer, I’d accept that he or she has, like everyone else, a life beyond the office.  That life probably includes drinking and sex.  Most lives do – with some exceptions, of course.

 One must conduct him/herself with decorum while at work, but outside of it?  Activity that isn’t dangerous or illegal is none of my concern.  As an employer, you must ensure that your employees are meeting your company’s standards.  That’s the extent of your duties. 

I’m perplexed by the warnings I’ve received pertaining to my relatively quiet and generally obscure online playgrounds – namely this blog and my Facebook account.  I’ve heard tell several rumours that potential future bosses are probably Googling my name, looking for evidence of untoward behaviour that would make me a poor candidate for a job.  I’d understand them wanting to ensure that I’m not affiliated with a White Power or Neo-Nazi organization.  If they want to make sure that I don’t operate a website dedicated to illegal sexual proclivities – child molestation, bestiality, necrophilia – I get that, too. 

However, if someone were to stumble across a picture of me sitting on someone’s lap with a drink in my hand, I’d take issue with him or her deeming me an undesirable employee.  Most people – many of whom are employed – have engaged in informal behaviour, some of it less than austere (to say the least). 

But my opinion aside, the fact remains that employers can seek out background information not present on a job candidate’s resume and make a ”to hire/not to hire” decision based on their research.  While I may think it’s unwise to screen workers using Facebook, it happens.  Since that fact is clear – and out in the open – people must guard their privacy appropriately. 

If someone is passed over for a job due to scandalous Facebook/Myspace/Livejournal, etc photos, that person cannot blame the website on which his or her pictures were discovered.  All of the websites have “Friends Only” options that hide page content from casual surfers.  If you aren’t friends with your boss on Facebook, he or she cannot see your Cancun vacation pictures.  Nor can they see the people you’ve dated or hooked-up with (not that it’s their business or concern to begin with). 

If you want to blog and share pictures with your friends, take care to manage your privacy settings accordingly.  Don’t shriek that “Stalkbook” lost you your job.  Privacy settings – bless ‘em – were invented so you could casually socialize with people you know/trust.  If you choose to make your profiles public, you’ve chosen to subject yourself to unexpected (and perhaps unwanted) scrutiny by anonymous third-parties. 

Let me reiterate – I’d hire you despite your party pictures.  In fact, I might hire you because of them.  However, I’m not hiring anyone, so my principles matter very little in the grand scheme of things. 

Now, what to do when there are nude pictures of you kicking around cyberspace?  That’s a difficult subject to contend with, as there are ethical concerns associated with it.  Is it unfair to punish someone if the pictures were originally entrusted to another person who took advantage of said trust? Is it ethical to dismiss someone’s contributions to a company over photos taken outside (hopefully) of the workplace? 

Can you no longer trust an employee to work diligently and efficiently now that you’ve seen her nipples? Is a member of your team suddenly less helpful and intelligent because you’ve witnessed his (perhaps impressive or not-so-impressive) erection?

Nude photos are (for some people) a source of great shame and embarrassment.  The fact that anyone they pass on the street may have masturbated to (or laughed uproariously at) pictures of them is punishment enough – especially if the photos were distributed without his or her knowledge or consent (which is sometimes the case).

However, there are many instances where people have freely distributed photos or videos of themselves lounging around naked or performing sexual acts. 

What’s unfortunate is that, should these materials be found, people can lose the respect of their employers and co-workers, thus requiring a change of occupation.  If society were more open-minded about sex and nudity (not simultaneously averse to and obsessed with it), perhaps a naughty picture/video could be laughed about and – eventually – forgotten. 

However, in North America, a scandalous image could bury you personally and economically.  Or make you famous.  Or infamous, rather.  Regardless, it wouldn’t be the most desirable kind of fame, for few people would take you seriously (and no one dare argue that the media takes Paris Hilton seriously, she’s one of the biggest – and yes, richest – running jokes in contemporary pop culture).  

So what’s the best way to deal with less-than-appropriate photographs? 

Think about them before you take them – because seriously, someone might find them.  In a perfect world, their discovery wouldn’t be a huge deal.  In an imperfect world, well…you know how it is. 

Me?  If I felt compelled to do something salacious and immortalize it on film, I’d do it right.  No grainy images of me bent over a guard-rail.  No unflattering angles amplifying “problem” – re: fat – areas.  No tangled hair, no smeared make-up, no unsightly expressions.  And most of all – no poor lighting.

I’d go for something deliberately artsy (so I could decry people’s ignorance of fine art and the beauty of the unclothed human body).  The pictures would have to be black and white, or perhaps sepia-toned.  I’d look like I was freeing my mind and spirit, and indulging in the joys of creating subversive material meant not to shock, but rather engage and enlighten. 

People wouldn’t say, “Wow, look at that pale whore with a cock in her mouth.”

They’d say, “Wow, look at that daring couple with great taste in decor and a genuine, tangible passion for one another.”

They’d be titillated, yet enthralled.  Scandalized, yet impressed.  Aroused, but thoughtful. 

Should the masses disapprove of my taste in erotic art, I’d call them out on their closed-mindedness.  I’d discuss the unnecessary and oppressive taboos surrounding sex and nudity – taboos that damage sexual expression rather than refine it.  I’d claim that I was re-conceptualizing pornography, and infusing it with dignity and grace.

I’m 3/4 serious, here. 

If you’re going to do it, do it right.  Do it with class, and sensual ambiance. 

“There’s a feeling I get, when I look to the west…”

That title has no real relevance to this post, I just heard Stairway to Heaven in the car today.  It’s not a song I often hear while driving, mostly because it’s old.  It’s classic, yes, but it doesn’t get a great deal of airplay.

It seems to me that current rock music, though occasionally soulful in its own right, is lacking the abstract passion of the songs of decades past.  It’s not all bad, nor is it all shallow, but it’s not as…prolific, dare I say?  It doesn’t contain as many long guitar solos and abstract allusions to metaphors you’d find in romantic era poetry. 

 I have no idea what Stairway to Heaven is about.  I don’t know what feeling I should get  when I look to the west.  I don’t know why there’s a lady standing on the road that I’m supposed to wind down on.  I don’t need to know to appreciate the song - and it’s a song I appreciate on more than an auditory level.  I’m a fan of most catchy beats, but they don’t hold any long-term fascination for me.   Stairway does, and I wasn’t even alive in the 70s. 

I suppose this entry’s title is relevant  . 

When I started this blog, I promised myself that I’d try to write once a week.  However, I’m not one to talk about my day.  Trust me, you don’t want to hear about it.  Almost every blog turns into an essay, albeit an “I” essay.  One occassionally laced with tasteful profanity – yes, profanity can be tasteful. 

One thing I’ve noticed is that most of this site’s hits come from people sifting through entries with sex tags.  I don’t judge, I do the same thing.  If I see a tag that says “anal sex”, I click – even though I’m not all that interested in rectal intercourse myself. 

So on an inappropriately sexual/mildly political/deeply controversial note, allow me talk about drunk sex - or rather sex had while a woman is drunk.

Some friends bought me The Guide to Getting it On for my birthday.  It’s a book about, yes, getting it on.  It’s long, intelligent, helpful, open-minded and appealing.  It touches on every subject associated with sexuality – kink, fetish, porn, biology, society, psychology and assault and abuse. 

Sexual assault and abuse are serious subjects.  They’ve been very real realities for an astounding number of people, male and female alike.  However, it would be unrealistic to say that adult men are at as great a risk of sexual battery and assault as adult women. 

The Guide is sympathetic towards victims, and rightfully so.  However, it declares women who have had sex under the influence of alcohol – willingly and enthusiastically – as much of victims as survivors of short and long-term sexual abuse.

That’s absurd.

If a woman consumes alcohol willingly, she’s made an adult decision.  If she chooses to leave with a man and proceed to have (or perhaps even initiate) sex with him, she’s made a choice, albeit one spurred on by imbibing potent liquids.  If her drink was drugged, or her protests to “just kiss/cuddle/sleep” etc were ignored, then yes, she was raped. 

However, if she consented to sex, she consented to sex.  Perhaps its sex she’ll regret, but her regret and embarrassment is less serious (and life-altering) than his potential imprisonment and life on a sex offender’s registry. 

Also, the book mentions that it’s a man’s – and only a man’s – responsibility to determine the extent of sexual activity when the woman has had more than one drink.  It is his duty, drunk or not, to err on the side of caution and refuse the woman’s advances.  This is a noble principle in theory.  However, in a situation where sex seems evident, it’s hard for some people (male and female, drunk and sober) to cease activity that is, in fact, consensual. 

And to be fair, some women get drunk in order to feel more comfortable initiating sex.  It’s common to consume at least a few drinks with a date/partner/fuck buddy/whathaveyou on any given evening.  Consuming some alcohol – even a lot of it – does not render most people immobile or unconscious (that said, no one has any right to initiate sex with someone who has blacked out).  It lowers ones inhibitions and leads to hasty decisions, yes, but it’s drank with those effects in mind. 

It is true that sleeping with a person far drunker than yourself could constitute you taking advantage of another’s altered state.  However, there is a difference between taking advantage of someone and brutally, maliciously assaulting them.  It’s not necessarily right and/or ethical to desire a woman simply because she’s drink and therefore more likely to engage in sexual activity.  But as long as that woman participates, willingly, in sexual intercourse, no legal recourse should follow the events of the evening. 

Yes, being used can leave one feeling vulnerable and upset, but these are feelings from which can gain some degree of wisdom.  But it’s not fair to have a man arrested for having sex with a conscious woman who said, “yes”, just as it would be unfair to prosecute a woman for having sex with an intoxicated but conscious man who said, “yes.” 

Just as you can’t blame a beer company for making you run naked through a suburban park at 2 am, you can’t blame a horny partner for your feelings of regret following a night of voluntary drinking and fucking. 

I’ve had sex while drunk.  I’ve had sex while very, very drunk.  I’ve felt compelled to do and say things during drunk sex that I might not do or say during sober sex.  However, I’d never dare accuse any of my partners of anything close to rape or sexual assault.  I’d expect actual rape/sexual assault victims to loathe me if I did.

Anyone can put down a bottle and go home at any time.  You know before you buy that drink exactly how you’re going to feel at the end of the night. 

Better to be the one experiencing a little morning-after embarrassment than two to 10 years in prison.