So this quarter I am taking a women’s studies course, which I have been lovingly referring to as “I hate men.” I’m very good at hating men, apparantly. Funny, that.
For our final paper- conveniently due on Tuesday- I decided to write about feminism and pornography. I had thought it an interesting topic with lots of controversy.
Now I just feel dirty.
I am well and truly sick of porn. Feminist porn, exploitive porn, all things in between, whatever. I am also well and truly sick of the analysis- “Porn is exploitive!” “No it isn’t!” “It can be sometimes!” now just strikes me as another form of porn- intellectual mastrubation, if you will. I can see all sides drooling over their typewriters with glassy stares.
I think it’ll be months before I can look at porn again. And even longer still until I can look at it without pondering the socioeconomic implications of come shots. I’m glad that I don’t have a sex life anymore- I hesitate to think of how this paper would have impacted it.
Oh, and today I discovered that our library’s shelving system has the books about porn next to the books about the structure of families. I bet the Library of Congress people are still patting themselves on the back over that one.
I’ve decided that regressing back to an innocent time of my life is the best option. As such, I am listening to every Muppet and Sesame Street song that I own on repeat.
C is for Cookie; that’s good enough for me…
(Oh, and I haven’t started WRITING the damn thing yet. Kill me now.)
I’ve been there. Decided on a whim to collect a gigabyte of porn pics. I did it, then immediately deleted it and didn’t look at porn again for several months. Ah, youth!
Of course, I never actually thought about the porn beyond whether or not it was pleasing. If yes, save. If no, delete.
You gotta
put down the duckie
(put down the duckie)
put down the duckie
(put down the duckie)
gotta put down the duckie
if you wanna play the saxophone!
…what?
The Muppet songs thing might not work, I knew a kid in sixth grade who’s hobby was apparently imagining different Sesame Street characters having sex and tell us about the various combinations during lunch trying to see who he could gross out. Tellie and Gordon was a particular favorite of his. You could have some bleed over in your head of Muppet songs and porn scenes.
Milossarian, please tell me you know you’re barking up the wrong tree there.
And you thought dressing up and having sex was relegated to Halloween…oh no, oh no no no no no, you are mistaken. Touch that part of your soul! Learn to scream “Fore-claw! Fore-claw!” with Robin Williams and LOVE IT.
Oops, the link goes to the feedback from last weeks article where he discusses the kink known as “Furries” where people dress up in costumes of animals and have sex. My ‘Savage Love’ is delivered a week late, it seems, in Europe.
Carry on…
(Can I add one thing to the OP: I rented a porn for the first time in awhile and there was a scene directed by a woman of a woman masturbating (Director coaching her on from the sidelines). And lordy, that was one of the most erotic things I’ve seen, because, GODDAMN!, she gave herself one heck of an orgasm. It actually left me feeling not as guilty? bad? uneasy? as some porn where it is obviously just play-acting. (Seemingly) There was such a world of difference between what I saw and what I had seen in the past. So, I’ve recently seen something that actually makes me want to watch more, in hopes of seeing more fo what I had seen. Ya see?)
Sick of porn?! to me that’s like being sick of eating or sleeping. And hat’s off, or something off, to the poster with the 12 gig collection. I feel like a piker with my 'lil ole 2 gig file.
Well, something to shoot for. I guess that could be a pun, huh.
Oh, lord, I took that class too. I took deep and abiding pleasure in excoriating Catharine Mackinnon so deeply that there were viscera on the floor around my writing desk. I got an A, but I had to have the carpet steamed.
