In lieu of a blog post today, here’s my letter to Sex Criminals #3, on the subject of “porn in the forest” stories.
By the way - if you’re not reading Sex Criminals, you’re wrong.
Next week on “boys and penises,” more stuff about boys - and their penises.
Evan Rachel Wood goes off on the MPAA for deeming cunnilingus worse than seeing heads blown off. [applause]
“If you can find those things in the man we know as Will Riker, accept them. Accept the love.”
Not only is “The Host” a fairly kickass Dr. Crusher episode and one of my favourite love stories on the show as a whole, and a really intriguing science fiction premise to boot (which would go on to become one of the key pieces of Star Trek worldbuilding undertaken in its decade, with the introduction of the Trill), but give Gates McFadden a standing ovation, folks: she did the whole thing seven months pregnant. And whatever love scene gymnastics were required on set to accomplish this, McFadden’s condition does nothing but enhance the story: our nominally gorgeous doctor is literally glowing throughout – a fact which Deanna remarks upon in-story, when she runs into a giddily lovestruck Beverly getting a covert facial in the Enterprise’s beauty parlour. (And thus coincidentally answering the question of how the women of Star Trek keep looking like the women of Star Trek.)Read more
When you’re 14 years old, the game is pretty much up, Hallowe’en-wise; or so I discovered, on or around the 31st of October, 1990, when I was - in fact - fourteen. I think we can all agree that I hit puberty when I was 13, depending on what you consider to be the advent of boy-puberty (I have my theories), and sometime between dressing up as Batman in the fall of ‘89 - because 1989 was, in all regards, Batman - and finding the most kickass mask ever to dress up as the Phantom of the Opera in 1990, I went over the ledge, hormone-wise, and consequently trick-or-treated in ‘90 looking absolutely nothing like a kid and way too much like an adult in the opinions of pretty much every parent who opened every door on St. Leonard’s Avenue that night.Read more
"There’s a piece of twaddle going around FetLife called 10 Rules For Dating My Daughter, which is packed with “funny” threats like this: ‘Rule Four: I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilising some kind of barrier method can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.’ All of which boil down to the tedious, ‘Boys are threatening louts, sex is awful when other people do it, and my daughter is a plastic doll whose destiny I control.’"
"You’re not me. Nor are you an extension of my will. And so you need to make your own damn mistakes, to learn how to pick yourself up when you fall, to learn where the bandages are and to bind up your own cuts. I’ll help."
"I refuse to perpetuate, even through the plausible deniability of humor, the idea that the people my daughter is attracted to are my enemy."
"It doesn’t lessen you to give someone else pleasure. It doesn’t degrade you to have some of your own. And anyone who implies otherwise is a man who probably thinks very poorly of women underneath the surface."
"In the abstract, darling, go out and play."
"The recent government-funded ‘abstinence only’ programs have been found to actually increase teen pregnancy and STI rates in states where they’re implemented, proving, yet again, that teenagers will always do exactly what you tell them not to, and screw themselves up in the process. Nope, purity rings don’t do a damn thing. Biology wants what biology wants."
"A huge component of this is consent. Consent in sexual situations is usually taught as, ‘If a woman says no, it means no.’ That’s nice, but it completely glosses over the complexity of the issue. It continues to frame sex in a ‘Women get to decide, you have to convince them,’ perspective. This reinforces the perception that men must somehow prove themselves to women and women must somehow be ‘won over’ by a man to have sex with him. This isn’t consent, it’s mutually reinforced manipulation."
"And yes, we screw to make babies, too. Although in the developing world, that’s rarely the primary motivation these days. So why is it all sex education focuses on?"
"Men and women have innate differences in how they experience their sexualities; This should be obvious to anyone who’s ever looked at naked people; These differences, despite existing, don’t really mean anything. The truth is that trying to cram an ideology that men and women are exactly the same in all ways down people’s throats is just as fascist and shitty as forcing the ideology of conventional gender roles and stereotypes on everyone as well."
"5. Where the damn clitoris is and what it’s for - Seriously. Do you know how old I was when I finally figured this out? Come on!"
In which I write the piece that has been scratching at the back door of my brain since I saw Blue is the Warmest Colour at TIFF ‘13: one, the prosthetic vagina thing is bullshit; and two, the prosthetic vagina thing is bullshit. Read more
“They really knew how to party back in those days.”
There are two types of people in the world: people who think “Qpid” is unbelievably stupid, and people who think it is the greatest thing that ever happened, ever. I am of the latter. Since this episode is going to be nothing but one long “SQUEE!” from me from start to finish, I have no choice but to liveblog it.
Picard is at Tagus III indulging his inner archaeology geek, which is an amateur side of him that I much prefer to his amateur Dixon Hill geek. He’s fretting about how to modulate his keynote address to the archaeology council when Counselor Troi shows up and orders him straight to bed. The Counselor has no idea what a favour she’s done him, because no sooner has Jean-Luc arrived at his quarters and turned down the lights, when he notices a horga’hn sitting idly on the desk – the Risian symbol of fertility – and then Vash, Picard’s playmate from his Risa adventure in “Captain’s Holiday,” emerges from the bedroom, claims to have climbed in through the window (a delectable image in and of itself), and bangs the captain.Read more
Having never had a fuckbuddy, I don’t know how true-to-life Hollywood’s strange fuckbuddy double feature is (No Strings Attached / Friends With Benefits, which arrived within months of each other in 2011). I can say that Friends With Benefits comes within striking distance of being a pretty good rom-com, while No Strings Attached has a script so hacky and dull that it renders anything else about the movie that might have been working (lead performances, particularly) fairly useless. I do enjoy these random confluences of attempted zeitgeist, though, especially when both instances pretty much fail. Just like the two Die Hard at the White House movies this summer, no one wanted the Fuckbuddy movies back in ‘11. And why not, I ask? Fuckbuddies! In movie form! If this dents Hollywood’s enthusiasm for trying to slalom the romantic comedy mold around post-Facebook sexual games, I will be… well, not affected in the slightest, really, but surely someone could come up with a good movie about sexting - right? Couldn’t they? Nah.Read more