Some shit about sex…


What if this is the result1 of DENYING yourself the permission to explore your relationship with your sexual self for many, many years? Not just physically—as in hittin’ up Craigslist’s ‘Casual Encounters’ section tryna see who’s ready-willing-and-able at 2:37AM PST—but intellectually, as in allowing yourself to openly and honestly explore the vagaries of your sexual desires, thoughts, curiosities; free from the burden of shame and/or guilt. Either alone or with someone else.

Purging the contents of your sexual subconscious in safe places like XHamster, Pornhub, YouPorn, Tube8 (come on guys, give me some others) search boxes is fun, exhilarating, but spend enough time there gawking at things that contradict the you that you present to the public and you might start feeling a little paranoid…

“Look, see, I’m married to a woman! I’m no fag! What kinda fag marries a sexy, big-titty girl like this?! Just look at them titties guys! Just look!”

It’s fear. You’re afraid of what people in your either/or, black/white world might think of you. ESPECIALLY if say, you grew up relatively conservative, parents heavily involved in the church, reputations to uphold; just alla that keeping-up-appearances shit. But what happens when you mentally separate yourself from that and wake-the-fuck-up? What if you don’t wake up until damn near 60?! Way past your so-called prime? When you could’ve experimented, learned about who you were? You might be inclined to go to extremes. Overcompensate. I’m not saying this is Jenner’s story. Frankly, I don’t know much about [PERSONAL PRONOUN]’s story, I just used this picture as a cynical shorthand. It’s the kind of pop culture beacon that people rush to and exploit to further their agendas. I figured I could do the same…


The reason some straight dudes (and straight women for that matter) are so ‘weird’ about gay MALE sex may be due to the fact that they are very much aware of the savagery of their own sexual thoughts2; thoughts they rely on women to temper via their discernment—without this temperance two sexually engaged men become an unabashed physical expression of savage perversion. No virtue. Just unbridled sexual pugilism. Here’s why this is bullshit: We have CONDITIONED women to DENY their sexual savagery (it’s there fellas, under all those layers of imposed modesty resides her beastly sexual truth; shit scares the hell outta dudes; I spent most of my 20s and early 30s terrified of it myself). We task them with maintaining the sexual virtue for ALL of mankind. And to do this they must keep themselves covered, limit their number of sexual partners and not appear to ‘generally’ enjoy sex.

I ain’t pullin’ this outta my ass y’all, just peep your favorite religious texts. They are full of pedantically absurd rules regarding women’s bodies; and these texts endure because they can be used against women in a “Hey babe, it ain’t my word, it’s God’s” kinda way3. But guess what? This hasn’t really been working out for ANYBODY. We see proof of this manifested in all the sexual angst-driven bloodshed routinely popping off around the world (everything from religious violence to gang violence has its roots in this bullshit). But interestingly, these rules may be the RESULT of bloodshed. Blood that is shed for approximately five-to-seven days to be exact…

As the noted abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison once said, “I just don’t trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die.” Or was that South Park’s MR. Garrison?… Anyway, point is: Women have to suffer a bloaty, crampy, Jekyll/Hyde-y ordeal to produce an egg cell that if fertilized will lead to a three-quarters-of-a-spin-around-the-sun-long spell enduring varying degrees of incapacitation while an-OTHER life evolves inside of them.

Damn. That’s a lot.

But why do they have to go through ALL that while dudes only have to put up with a few awkward dreams? Maybe it’s a punishment. Maybe they DID something to DESERVE it. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. That’s the only way this imbalance makes any sense. Hell, that’s the only way this LIFE makes any sense. Well……maybe we could see men and women as part of one divinely balanced ‘figurative’ body and that taking care of this body (read: nurturing one another) is tantamount to taking care of our ‘literal’ bodies. Nah, that shit sounds too gay.

Speaking of ‘gay shit’ let’s talk about the ‘grayness’ of human sexuality real quick. Actually, I could just hyperlink to this post, but since folks don’t click the hyperlinks, let me just go ahead and copy-paste it…

    Many things—from early sexualization (read: sexual abuse, exposure) to our relationships with family—factor into how we PERCEIVE not just OUR sexuality, but the NATURE of sexuality itself. I often wonder why we feel FORCED to DEFINE our sexuality based on such a hazy-ass perception. Why are we so damn adamant that people MUST be gay, straight, bi, yada yada? Truth is: We don’t even REALLY know what we like. We only ‘kinda’ know. And this ‘kinda’ knowledge is predicated upon the experiences we’ve had measured against the experiences we’re ‘curious’ about. Our satisfaction or dissatisfaction with this measurement is directly linked to our sexual mental health. Speaking of ‘measurement’…

    Sexuality is a lot more about ‘capability’ than ‘rigidity’ and many of us are more sexually capable than we think. That’s why the minds of MANY people (who call themselves gay, straight, bi, whatever) often betray these labels. Y’all know exactly what I’m talking about. I mean REALLY KNOW (it’s that stuff that you’re scared to search for for fear of leaving a trace). No matter WHAT we CLAIM to be, we wonder…boy do we wonder.

    When we own every last hypocritical bit of ourselves the labels lose their power. It’s hard to be ‘straight’ when men turn you on, however infrequently (or call yourself ‘gay’ when women turn you on, however infrequently). You start to become annoyed with your label, but when you realize it is self-imposed you can strip that bitch off and just live your damn life. This works for all the distinctions: race, religion, gender, sexuality, et cetera.

    And YES, I am speaking from experience. Just in case you were wondering.

When asserting ourselves we may not always be confident in the ‘details’ of our assertion; just with the ‘act’ of assertion itself… Say you’re black and work with a’buncha white people—like the whitest white people (not gonna explain what that means, but if you must know just go watch the parade of hacky black/white comparison humor that was late 90s/early aughts ComicView)—and while at work you suppress your ‘blackness.’ After a year at the job this starts taking a toll. You’re gaining weight, drinking heavily, popping anti-depressants; just an overall mess. One day—fed up with how much suppressing yourself has negatively affected your well-being—you storm into work ‘extra black’ (once again, see ComicView for an explanation). This stuns your co-workers, they say really white shit like… (you already know what to do). Ironically, this ‘extra blackness’ is just as fake as your initial ‘extra white’ code-switching; both are reactions to an-other’s opinion4. Your ‘true’ self got lost in the tug-of-war between acquiescing and revolting. Speaking of which…

I had to take a break from Facebook because I found myself sinking too deep into a reactionary persona. I was becoming proud of this persona too. An Above The Fray™ persona to be exact, but the truth of the matter was I couldn’t shut up ABOUT the damn fray. All of my posts were responses to whatever they were talking about. Angry, snarky, incredibly dickish responses too. But this is the nature of pride. We think it’s pure, detached from those who we think are keeping us down, but in reality we are FEEDING off of them like fucking vampires.

Everything we do and are is a reaction to something. Even if you decide to move to a remote island, the drive to do so would be based on your experiences with other humans and the way they treated you is based on their experiences and so-on-and-so-forth. Even if you take an anarchistic approach where you run around with three blueberry pancakes shoved in the crack of your bare ass while violently masturbating to a picture of Morris Day duck-taped to your face5 you’d STILL be responding to something; in this case the concept of our reaction-dependent existences. There’s simply no way around it. We cannot escape its ironic hold; every time we try to subvert it it quietly and effortlessly subverts US! So what do we do? Seems like no matter what we do we can’t avoid fakeness. We’re synthesized beings that were created via a plethora of pinballing reactions; just lost in a maze of relativity. Shit’s like a game.

Maybe we should just play more and bitch less.

Oh, and for full disclosure purposes: I don’t sexually identify at ALL. After growing up ‘straight’ I tried to force myself to be gay, then migrated to bisexuality and then forced straightness, now I’m just—just—just a goddamn mess.

What I’ve learned from these varied experiences is that sex can be a HUGE distraction. Especially if you are highly sexually capable; mind just bouncing back-and-forth between all sorts of sexual possibilities. I tried to pass this off as some kinda superior state-of-being, but in the back of mind I was kinda jealous of those who kept most of their sexual curiosities in the backs of their minds. They SEEMED so much more happier than I.

You know what?

My jealousy probably had SHIT to do with what they or I thought of sexual identity, I was probably just jealous of their love. I wanted THAT. But all I have are a collection of sexual memories that make for good masturbation fodder, but they’re moments that I cannot return to, people who—even if they were in my presence RIGHT NOW—wouldn’t be the same sexual beings they once were.

I think I’m gonna go ahead and call quits on this one. I have no idea if I accomplished what I set out to accomplish, but then again I have no idea what I set out to accomplish. But I dig it, feels like an old-school Tricky article from back in the day. Back when I would just run around in a stream-of-consciousnesses circle until everything fell outta my head.

1. What if it is an addiction to being ‘pretty?’ We seldom call men past thirty ‘pretty.’ They graduate to ‘handsome’ or even ‘beautiful,’ but it isn’t the kind of beauty that is considered ‘pretty.’

2. Perhaps men fear their sexual savagery because it isn’t too far removed from ‘general’ “I’ll kick a’muthafucka’s ass just for lookin’ at me funny.” savagery. And such a close proximity can make for some tricky intellectual maneuvering. Maybe that’s why dudes ‘need’ someone—a woman (or women)—who represents a complete LACK of savagery to be a ready and willing receptacle for his physicality, in other words: someone to fuck the shit out of. Now if he is constantly denied this opportunity he may manifest it by BEATING the shit outta someone…perhaps her, another dude or a whole fucking nation. Of course she will be blamed for this; admonished for not fulfilling her ‘womanly’ duties.

Although the laying of this existential burden on her is bullshit, she is not without fault. She ALLOWS her fear to be exploited. Dudes know women are sexual savages just like them, they just hope their desire for protection will allow for a compromise… “You be ‘good’ and I will protect you from me and others like me.” And since it’s scary as fuck out there in the world she (begrudgingly) rocks with it.

What we have here is a quagmire stemming from a mutual fear of our own damn bodies…which makes stuff like this seem like works of existential genius.

3. I think the most divine thing about our religious texts is how they expose our long-standing hang-ups and how we have (to this very 7/23/2015 day) yet to reconcile with them.

4. Interestingly, (seemingly) sudden reactionary eruptions are responsible for some of the most celebrated aspects of certain cultures.

5. I would really dig it if people came up with crazier examples of attempts to subvert the reactionary order of things, but I would need readers to do that. Hopefully this cynical-glomming-onto-a-pop-culture-moment will lure some readers. Hasn’t worked in the past though. Just made me feel dirty.


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