Porn Perspectives

I know this is an old item but in case some have missed it, I felt the need to direct readers to Chelsea Summers' enlightened pontification on the moral manwhore. As my friends have heard me tirelessly reiterate, I am all for full disclosure in dating. People need to treat each other well.

Feeling lonely this holiday? Have yourself a drink! Scientists have proven it gets you laid!

A recent study shows that people who drink significant amounts of alcohol are more likely to have multiple sex partners. The news gets better—the more one drinks, the more partners one tends to have.

The only potential downside of having multiple partners is that it makes you more likely to not have a high school diploma, be male, be black, and have sex before you’re 14. If you’re cool with the above, then have a drink and enjoy!

I’ve made little headway into Prude: How the Sex-Obsessed Culture Damages Girls (and America, Too!), and I already hate it. 

Which is tragic. I’d had high hopes for this one, what with its provocative (to me, at least) title. You see, in many circles I’d be considered a “prude.” My mother would agree, as evidenced by our somewhat overdue birds and bees sex talk when I was 18 in which she advised that I “loosen up a bit.”

My hope was that this book would be the smart feminist critique I’d been craving of drunk sorority girls, UGG boots with mini skirts, and Lindsay Lohan. I had hoped it would expand Ariel Levy’s progressive (and interestingly borderline conservative) argument in Female Chauvinist Pigs. I don’t know whether to blame the author or the publisher who I’m sure anticipate big bucks from the Christians, but there is no excuse this waste of paper. 

Prude spends the first few chapters citing example after example after example of scandalous behavior among juveniles. WE GET IT. Young girls are giving blowjobs at heretofore unforeseen levels. Yes, how terrible.

Liebau never manages to draw a more compelling conclusion beyond “girls who are sexually active too soon are proven to have higher rates of depression and suicide.” While I would hesitate to argue with such rock-solid evidence (how exactly does one quantify “too soon”?), this is BORING. The more important point here, which Liebau completely misses, is that this sort of behavior might interfere with feminist goals. Which begs the question of why young girls are flouting the feminist triumphs of previous generations. Which would lead to an interesting book. Which Prude is not.

As I emerged from my local California post office, triumphant after dropping off another set of six 40 lb boxes full of books in what I can only describe as potentially the most epic transcontinental sex book relocation project undertaken thus far this century, a wave of appreciation washed over me.

Why, you ask? One would think that mailing 19 boxes (so far) of books to oneself in New York would be nothing but a royal pain in the ass. While my back is unlikely to forgive me for several months, my heart is nonetheless warmed to think of the years of incarceration I would be facing should I have attempted such a feat a mere century ago. (Or, you know, in another country today.)

The Comstock Act, enacted in 1873 (and declared unconstitutional in 1936 thanks to Margaret Sanger), aimed to cleanse America of vice through a restriction on the distribution of obscene material--including information about contraception--through the mail. While the contraception ban was declared unconstitutional, the remainder of the laws restricting the distribution of obscene material remain to this day. What has changed (and what keeps changing) is the definition of "obscenity".

Despite the persistent vestiges of this ludicrous act, I am nonetheless able to send these books (which span such topics as feminist theory, histories of sexuality, analyses of sexual behavior, and so forth) with little fear of the law. And for that, I am thankful.   

It's about time I be a good sister and plug Rachel's fantastic blog Pop Feminist. Not just because I strive every day to be the best sister possible, but because it's an amazing blog.

Feminism can (and should) be FUN. If you would like to discover your inner stiletto-heeled, lipstick-wearing, martini-spilling drag queen (and believe me, she's there), then Pop Feminist can help.

Go check it out and have a dance party or two. Really. Do it.