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.

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. 

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. 

My New Project

Blogs are self-indulgent, but there’s nothing particularly wrong with indulgence in the self.  Last night, I watched a TLC show called “Jon and Kate Plus 8,” a light-hearted (but harrowing) look at the rewards and difficulties of raising eight children.  Eight screaming, yelling, fighting, running, jumping, shrieking children.  The mother decided to spend the day at a luxurious spa, indulding in all manner of vain pursuits.  She said – during her spiritually comforting facial – that spa days made her a better mother. 

 I don’t doubt that for a moment. 

Everyone needs a little, “this is for me and I don’t care about you” time.  Blogs are figurative podiums, surrounded by anonymous commenters masquerading as the new world’s free press. 

 Since I’m not a real writer yet (and may never be, who knows!), this will have to do.

I’ll try to make it interesting for you, should you care to stop by again.  Maybe there’ll be a video (perhaps a pornographic one).  It might contain your mom, possibly your sister, and definitely your spouse or significant other.