Cosmo and Stuff

I got my hair done last weekend, and with every haircut comes a new Cosmo magazine.  I buy one because my hair appointments are long and I need something to read.  I don’t bring books because I don’t want falling hair getting trapped between pages.  That’s, like, gross and stuff.  

Cosmo is a standard women’s magazine that contains articles about “new” sex techniques that aren’t really new and common sense relationship “wisdom” (i.e. don’t talk about your ideal wedding on a first date).  It’s also less about empowerment and more about fulfilling social obligations (having minimal to no body fat, buying fashionable clothes for the gym, being a key player in work “projects,” etc).  

The magazine assumes its readers are high-income, business-savvy hot chicks with big-dicked boyfriends and downtown condos.  No fat married ladies with kids or  20-somethings with shitty part-time jobs and sexless, martini-free weekends.  

Anyways, one article was about losing seven pounds in seven days without radically altering your diet.  

I’m not a doctor or nutritionist or personal trainer hired for my hot, muscular physique, but I know that you can’t lose seven pounds in a week without radically altering something.  Sure enough, the diet requires women to cut out carbs, sodium and sugar for one week and rely solely on small portions of grilled chicken and plain vegetables.  Also, the dieter must do 30 minutes of “hard” cardio each day and have a half hour of vigorous woman-on-top sex each night.  

Perhaps I’m ignorant or unlucky, but I don’t think 30 minutes of nightly sex is feasible.  Also, a half hour of uninterrupted bouncing is unrealistic.  

Well, it is for me, anyways.  I get tired easily, and I don’t like it when my leg muscles ache.  Also, constant thrusting can get tedious for both partners.  And really, how much calories does flexing your thighs really burn? 90? 100? 150, maybe? That’s less than a Weight Watchers whole-grain bagel.  It’s even less than one medium-sized oatmeal raison cookie.  

To be fair, I guess people on the quick-fix Cosmo diet shouldn’t be eating cookies anyways.  

The point I’m trying to make, I think, is that the article is telling readers how to shed water weight in preparation for a big event (wedding, birthday party, a night out at Boston Pizza with friends they haven’t seen in 6 to 8 months).  What the piece doesn’t take into account is that the minute the woman consumes a beer/pizza slice/fry/crouton, all of that water weight comes back and leads to bloating and vicious gas pains.  

I’ve done mild crash diets like that, and nothing ruins the feel-good vibe of super self-control like renegade air ricocheting around your large and small intestines.  It’s both awkward and painful, and forces you to make funny expressions that puzzle other partygoers.  

The next morning you’re 10 pounds heavier and 30 times more  depressed than you were when Cosmo first called you fat and told you to reward yourself for a hard day’s work as a partner in your prestigious law firm or PR agency by eating a low-fat, gluten-free cupcake with the icing scraped off.  

You want to lose a few? More vegetables and less treats.  Oh, and a few long walks and a run here and there.  Don’t hunt down a partner for 30 minutes of work-filled, unsatisfying nightly intercourse had solely to tone your ass.  An ass that, God willing, won’t be seen by fellow party guests anyways.  

I’d rather have random mid-morning sex that has nothing to do with shaping my gluts, and I don’t believe in fat-free cupcakes. Treats aren’t supposed to be healthy, that’s why they’re treats.  If you’re that concerned about losing weight, end your awesome day at your awesome downtown office with an awesome slice of cucumber.

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.

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. 

It Appears that the Devil is Talking out of Your Ass Again

I understand that it’s unwise – unacceptable, even – to make giant blanket statements about complicated social issues.  In life, there are few absolutes.  In the end, it’s all about context, theory and rhetoric.  If you can argue a point well enough, you’ll get supporters in your corner.  Someone else will get other supporters in theirs.  Then you can argue forever, which will make your life more interesting (if not exhausting).

 However, there are some arguments that cannot (and should not) ever hold H20.

 Such as the argument that God – yes, God – wants you spank the ever-living shit out of your wayward, irrational, child-like wife. 

Behold:

www.christiandomesticdiscipline.com

A site dedicated to affirming that it’s perfectly all right – desirable even – to institute an authoritative, dogmatic hierarchy in your household and allot one person (the old male person) the right to physically assault those who, like, give him dirty looks and refuse to smile when he farts at the dinner table. 

This “lifestyle” is for two types of people.

1) Kinky people

2) Abusive people

There’s no in between, make no mistake of that.  If you long to slap the naked ass of a grown woman for hours at a time, you’re either a run-of-the-mill S&M enthusiast or an asshole. 

If you’re a woman who loves the feel of a hard hand against your ass for hours on end, you’re a run-of-the-mill S&M enthusiast or a passive victim of domestic violence. 

If a woman feels that bad moods are manifestations of demonic possessions (or ungodliness) and decides that she needs the beasts expelled through a little over-the-knee “tough love”, she’s a kinky girl into submission.

Spanking is a common sexual practise (I wouldn’t even call it much of a fetish anymore).  People, generally fearful of finding themselves in humiliating and demoralizing situations (like corporal punishment), sometimes cope with their discomfort by eroticizing it.  If you like what’s being done to you, you haven’t relinquished your autonomy.  You’ve requested seemingly inhumane treatment, and therefore it’s titillating rather than mortifying.  Women are not the only people who do this, men do it too (that’s why there’s such a thing as a dominatrix). 

For most (I hope) of these spank-happy couples, their means of keeping the peace is probably more about obtaining sexual thrills – and there’s nothing wrong with that in and of itself.  What’s wrong is the pitiful, misogynistic posturing.

“God wants female subjugation, and the only way to achieve it is by instituting blatantly (but not admittedly) erotic punishments for derelict wives/girlfriends.”

I haven’t read the bible from cover to cover, but I doubt God, Moses, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John or Jesus every said any such thing. 

Religion is notoriously good that shaming its followers for having sexual desires, especially desires that stray off the rigid and narrow path of “normal.”  Though S&M (lighter aspects, of course) has become more and more popular, it’s still a fringe movement, practised in different ways by different people.  It’s not something everyone – particularly those closely associated with Christian denominations – would readily admit to dabbling in.  So how does a devout follower of a pure deity come to terms with his or her taste for painful foreplay? 

By cloaking their fetish in theological rhetoric.  They justify their kink by claiming it’s not inherently sexual, but innately spiritual.  Spanking is the best way a man and a woman can maintain the “natural” power imbalance in their marriage.  However, those intent on dominating their spouse would probably choose physical and emotional coercion over a relatively well-known sex act.  

Another argument could be that, in a case where one or both partners is not getting hard/wet at the prospect of a thorough “punishment”, the dominant partner is instituting a troublesome power imbalance sustained by genuinely painful “corrective procedures” that provide the abuser with a false sense of comfort.  If the punitive measures are approved by Christian domestic discipline enthusiasts, then they can’t be manifestations of one partner’s very real desire to threaten, frighten, and abuse the other.  So for people afraid to risk the legal/moral/philosophical/spiritual repercussions of routinely assaulting their spouse, they have some wiggle room with “consensual” anti-egalitarian power dynamics. 

Either way, there’s no pure motive for needing or wanting a defined and continuous sub/Dom relationship within a 21st century marriage.  You’re either kinky (which is cool), or you feel entitled to abusing your partner/feel you deserve abuse (not so cool, I don’t think). 

Perhaps this “lifestyle” has provided a safe haven for good Christian girls to act out desires they’ve had since adolescence without fear of social reprisal. I’ll bet a lot of them like to accidentally spray their husband with the garden hose when he’s on his way to work, and immediately blame Satan and claim they can feel him coiling up inside their pulsating nether regions when all they wanted to do was tend to their beautiful, feminine rose garden under the warm morning sunshine.  I’m sure they enjoy the warm morning sunshine beating against their bedroom windows while they promise to be “good girls” while rubbing against their godly man’s thigh. 

Their godly man no doubt likes his wife’s naked ass, or he just likes giving someone bruises.   

I hate to make a blanket statement, but there probably isn’t much in between. 

In case you think I might be mistaken, and that a desire to be closer to God is what compels couples to commit to spanking-filled marriage, check out this website:

http://lovingdd.blogspot.com

Once you sift through the user comments about the benefits of “forced” nudity, genital slaps and nipple pinches, you’ll see where I’m coming from.

“Kinky” Stats.

I don’t read magazines.  I used to, back when I craved light and superficial reading material and lacked Internet access.  Now, magazines are for dentists appointments and, I’ll admit it, bathroom breaks.

This past Saturday, however, I needed something mindless and glossy to entertain myself with during an extended hair appointment (I’ve never had one conclude at anything under the two hour mark).  Feeling indulgent, I picked up a Cosmo. 

I dislike Cosmopolitan magazine, I really do.  It’s a frivolous rag that replicates the same material every month under varying headlines.  It offers advice that is, at best, worthless.  At worst, dangerous.  Each and every article dedicated to helping readers enhance their sex life (Cosmo is a profoundly depressing read for the young, single, and involuntarily celibate crowd) simply advises women to grip a man’s testicles and pull them – hard –  away from his body right before he comes. 

I don’t know if that always goes over as well as Cosmo thinks it does.  Personally, unless asked, I’d never yank the boys in an unnatural direction to “enhance ‘our’ sexual experience.” 

You can’t provide “one size fits all” sex advice.  That’s why I loathe the “this position – and this position only – will get you off in 30 seconds” stories.  If there was a magical position that worked orgasmic wonders for every woman, no woman would ever have any need for a boring rag like Cosmo.  Yet it still flies off the shelves each and every month – and not for its insights on fashion and celebrities.

However, Cosmo headlines are cleverly salacious, and therefore intriguing.  I was intrigued by “The Shocking Thing 48% of Women do in Bed” headline. 

What was it? I wondered.

The article in question was a collection of “kinky” statistics that showcased the erotic proclivities of Cosmo readers.

Cosmois all about encouraging readers to be daring and sex-positive, so I expected to find a decent listing of illicit activities – all paired with percentages suggesting high participation rates, of course.  Imagine my surprise when the daring modern woman’s magazine showed that a mere 20-40% of readers engaged in mutual masturbation, bondage-play and anal sex. 

Ever since anal began sweeping the porn world several years ago, it’s become the new oral.  What once elicited gasps and shrieks and dropped-jaws is pretty low on the list of shocking sexual taboos.  Really, you need to reach pretty far to genuinely shock people these days. 

A penis in an asshole? Not that shocking.  It’s not even considered an exclusively ”gay” practice anymore.  It’s simply a new hole to play with.  Some like it, some don’t – much like any erotic activity.  Even if a sizable number of people haven’t made it a regular part of their coital repertoire, surely most have toyed with the possibility of incorporating that orifice into, at the very least, foreplay.

Cosmo, the magazine that encourages women to expand their sexual horizons, boasts of a very average, non-experimental reader demographic.  It looks like it’s mostly plain old missionary/cowgirl/doggy-style for fun, fearless Cosmo girls.

Other genuinely “alternative” publications actually ask their readers questions about traditionally “abnormal” sexual practises.  When I fill out surveys for The Stranger or Now, I’m asked if I’ve participated in activities that I probably wouldn’t even consider (or have never heard of). 

Not only does Cosmo fail at being a worthwhile read, it fails at being provocative and – by anyones standards – daring.  Call the world a sad and sordid place if you must (I’ll respectfully disagree with you), but assplay and handcuffs just aren’t shocking anymore.  That’s not to say people shouldn’t allot themselves time to consider whether or not anal sex or bondage are right for them, but the concepts themselves aren’t scandalous.

Cosmo certainly doesn’t represent a massive portion of women, but it does reach a hefty chunk of them.  Despite the fears of some conservative writers who work for sites like www.cwfa.org, it seems like today’s common grocery store “smut” magazine isn’t encouraging women to be all that deviant.

Lay your fears to rest concerned ladies, not every 20-something female is a serial-fellating, self-loathing trainwreck.  Some still like it on the bottom with the lights off, just the way God intended…or something.

A Man is arrested for, well, fucking a bicycle

Observe:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/glasgow_and_west/7095134.stm

So two hostel cleaning women walk in on a man fornicating with a bicycle and run, terrified, to their equally uptight manager, who consequently calls the police?

The hostel guest – who was no doubt paying for his accomdations – was masturbating, privately, in an unconventional manner.  This is somehow considered worthy of legal intervention? Legal intervention severe enough to land this man on a sex offender’s registry?

A bicycle is an odd object to use for self-stimulation purposes, no question.  However, the shocking miscarriage of justice aside, why aren’t these people acknowledging the absolute hilarity of the situation?

People commit no shortage of strange sexual acts in hotel/hostel rooms.  Now, hostels are a little different from hotels in the sense that many of their rooms house, on average, 2-20 guests.  Sexual activity in a non-private hostel bedroom is riskier than such activity in a hotel, as others may be subjected to viewing something they never agreed to witness.  However, the bicycle-fucker was alone – and in a locked room, no less.   Also, despite the fact that hostels generally house numerous travellers (most of whom are strangers to one another), they probably see their fair share of enthusiastic couplings.

I can’t believe this poor guy’s luck.  The middle-aged dude faces legal recourse after dropping extra Euros to ensure a private bedroom for him and his bicycle – a bedroom guaranteed to be free of North American 20-somethings.  He didn’t wander back, drunk or stoned, at 3 am to engage in loud sex with the Spanish girl he met earlier that night at the pub.  He found a little haven for him and his bike and went to town, only to offend the fragile sensibilities of cleaning women who didn’t have the decency to turn away, close the door, and spend the night three years of their lives in hysterics.

If I walked in on a man fucking a bike, I’d be enthralled.  I wouldn’t stay and watch, mind you, but I’d be glad I witnessed something so strange and, yes, story-worthy.  I’d no doubt tell everyone.  I’d tell co-workers, friends, family members, acquaintances, and strangers.  I’d regale the crowds at cocktail parties (if I ever found myself at one)  with the tale of the time I’d innocently walked into a hostel bedroom and found a half-nude man rigorously riding (in every sense of the word) the sparkly blue metal of his 26″ Schwinn.  People would gasp in shock.  They’d cover their mouths in horror.  But ultimately, they’d end up throwing their heads back in laughter.

When I was staying a hostel in Nice, France, two (sober, might I add) Canadian boys (from my neck of the woods, actually) attempted, in a fit of key-related frustrated, to break down the door to the room.  That was a disturbance. 

Had I walked in on one of them privately masturbating with an inanimate object,  I wouldn’t even have thought to get angry, let alone call the police.  I’d be entertained, if not initially embarrased.  However, my embarrasment would be no match for his own, and I’d acknowledge/accept that.

OMG!PENIS!

While I work, I scour the internet for the purpose of mental stimulation.  Actually, that’s a lie – I use it to fuck around on Facebook.  Well, most of the time that’s what I use it for.  Sometimes, (like I did today) I use it as an educational tool.  A tool to educate myself on interesting matters.

One of my favourite websites belongs to James Dobson’s conservative think-tank Focus on the Family.  Dobson said, a year or so ago, that fathers exposing themselves to their sons prevents homosexuality.  Upon hearing that luscious pearl of wisdom, I became fascinated with the good “doctor” and his ministry. 

In fact, you can find it (and him) right here:

http://www.family.org/

Once I arrived at my destination, I began looking for the latest tidbits on morality (sexual morality, to be exact).  I decided to forego the gay-bashing articles and instead settled on a little “why sex is bad for you” fare.

I found a rather thorough Adobe article on the effectiveness of abstinence-only education.  The article cites various studies (partisan ones, perhaps), and concludes that safe sex is an oxymoron, and that those who believe in/practise it are destined to suffer diseased genitalia and unwanted offspring.  The article itself is worth a look, so here it is:

http://www.citizenlink.org/pdfs/fosi/abstinence/take_12.pdf

I won’t dissect it here, but will instead draw attention to a particularly memorable (and telling) line:

“My 16 year-old daughter came home visibly shaken after sitting through a film in her co-ed sex-education class; the movie had a graphic scene of a man putting on a condom! What can I do?”

What can you do, concerned mother?  Tell your daughter that a naked penis in a sex-ed movie is nothing to get shakey about. 

I’d understand being shaken after viewing a graphic documentary about the humanitarian crisis in Sierra Leone.  That film, after all, shows a mentally disabled child (probably under 10) being beaten by a group of adult male soldiers.  I’d understand being visibly shaken by news footage of, say, a large-scale terrorist attack or tragic school shooting.

Visibly shaken by the sight of a condom-convered penis?

Calm the fuck down.   

If the sight of a nude body part can traumatize someone, that person (and perhaps society at large) needs to rethink its position on nudity and sexuality in general.  There’s nothing wrong with safely and ethically familiarizing people (yes, even older teens) with nude bodies and how they work in a sexual context – especially if the purpose of the display is educational (which this clearly was).  The girl in question wasn’t forced to review objectionable pornography, she was granted the opportunity to witness a helpful demonstration on proper contraceptive use.

The article, downplaying its puritanical slant, focuses on building a “Reefer Madness” case against contraception.  Namely, they accuse it (and by “it” I mean condoms – and only condoms) of being ineffective and inherantly harmful in the way its existence subtly encourages people to have sex.  The article does not mention (in any real or helpful detail) hormonal birth control, STI testing, or typical cures for non-serious infections. 

It talks about damaging the “natural” modesty that exists between boys and girls by educating them on the sexual functionality of one another’s bodies.  To one girl (real or not) the sight of an erect penis was  somehow as frigtening as, like, the aftermath of a car-bombing…or something. 

Many moons ago (when I was seven or eight), I was unexepectedly exposed to the sight of an erect penis – a large one, no less.  Oh, and it was in a woman’s mouth. 

Like most families, mine had a collection of home videos (this isn’t going in the direction that you think it is, don’t worry).  One day, my younger brother and I decided to view one.  My mom, also craving a light-hearted stroll down our lane of memories, picked a random video and put it on.  I can’t remember how it started (probably at a birthday party or some such occassion), but I do remember it ended with disrupted tracking, static, and a blonde woman fellating a well-endowed man.

It was a shocking moment, but not one that had me cowering in a corner, shaking and sobbing.  My mom may have wanted to react in such a way (and looking back, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she did), but she held back.  The tape was ejected, and me and my brother’s brief foray into cinematic dick-suckery was never mentioned again.

My second unintentional descent into the dark world of uncovered private parts?

An accidental look at an earlier volume of The Joy of Sex.  The man in the pictures (who often had an erection) bore a startling resemblance to Jesus Christ (a fact that never really shook my fragile Catholic soul as much as you’d think it would).

In fact, rare glimpses of nudity and sexuality (all viewed in media, not real-time) served to, I think, broaden my mind and peak healthy curiosities at a younger (but not inappropriately young) age.  I didn’t have a plethora of lovers at the tender age of 14, I can tell you that much.  I was simply harder to scandalize, and therefore less inclined (perhaps due more circumstance than choice, to be fair) to seek illicit experiences before I was able to properly deal with and conceptualize them.

I wonder how the good “doctor” would respond if I told him my adventure with home videos.  He might claim I was – indirectly, of course – sexually exploited by irreponsible parents.  He’d shake his head sadly and attribute my current habits (none of which are bad, trust me) to an unstable, sex-saturated childhood.

Some people fail to realize that a little knowledge (obtained by a little experience) shapes behaviour better than dogmatic instructions on the perils of dropping one’s pants.