April 18, 2006

Survey: Straight Men

How many gal-pals do you have? How many female friends you've never had sex with? How many women who are just friends, but you've spent the night with once or twice?

I'm doing research that will further the cause of Science.

All answers will be kept confidential—other than being published in a blog that anyone in the world can check on if they Google your screen name, or the phrase "fuck buddy."

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March 04, 2006

So, I'm Eating Greek Food at Lunch

. . . with Hog Beatty and his friend, Zeke. Hog was at this restaurant last weekend with another buddy of his, and today we sit outside near the Venice "boardwalk" (no, it does not contain boards). It's a beautiful day by the beach.

The waitress, Mona, remembers Hog and calls him by name. We order, and she comes up to chat with us a bit. I ask her what part of England she's from, and she fills us in on her background, her upcoming travel plans, and what it's like to be an emigre in the States. She doesn't spare the eye contact with Hog. She goes back inside the restaurant.

"You should come here more often," I tell Hog, who still appears oblivious.

"What? You mean, so I can get in Mona's good graces."

"'Good graces' isn't how I'd put it," Zeke remarks.

Mona comes back out and chats with us some more, confiding that she's going to be working a lot of late shifts this week so she can fly back home. Then she excuses herself to go to another table.

"It's like money in the bank," I remark to Hog, and Zeke smiles. Hog appears to think we're making it up, but his antennae are up now, and when Mona shows up to collect the check and chat a bit more she holds the eye contact a bit longer.

"We're going for a short walk along the boardwalk," Zeke informs her.

"I envy you," she tells us. "It's lovely along the beach."

"What time did you say you leave work?" Hog asks.

"Midnight."

"I'll be here," he tells her, as Zeke and I grin into our water glasses.

Hog may start out slow, but he certainly catches up in a hurry.

Zeke is married, with a child. I'm married, with a mortgage. We're having fun watching the kids play the game—never mind that Hog is older than both of us. He's divorced, and free, and getting hit on by a waitress from Nottiingham. And, you know: hitting back.

We walk along the boardwalk just up to muscle beach, wander back, and get into Zeke's Honda. We take Hog back to his apartment and tell him to rest up.

'Cause, you know. It might be a long night.

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February 27, 2006

Ohio Debates Gay Adoption,

and Goldstein recommends that they keep it civil.

Though I must say my reaction to the idea of barring gays, bisexuals, TS's, etc from adoption was that it truly was "homophobic."

Still, Jeff has a point: debate the thing on its merits. Engage.

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Dreams

I don't mind sexy dreams, and I don't mind violent ones, but I hate it when the two happen at the same time.

And the tenor of the sexy dreams has changed so much that I wonder if the alterations in my hormonal cocktail, post-40, have some bearing. In particular, I wonder whether my testosterone levels are going up. As a chick I associate estrogen low points with bitchiness and the desire to snipe at those around me. Sex is usually the farthest thing from my mind at such times.

Then the estrogen comes back, life is beautiful, and I have that "happy, horny" week.

With Prozac in the mix I can weather that estrogen drop a bit better. But there are moments that I'm convinced my dreams are giving me a vision of a more masculine sexual drive than I ever had when I was young. As a kid (teens, 20s, 30s) my sex dreams featured individuals. Now there are, um, more individuals. And not all have such distinct faces, characters, and identities. They feel like the dreams of a 17-year-old boy.

And I know hormonal interactions are a lot more complicated than estrogen vs. testosterone, but I slept late that week in physiology class, so I don't remember them all and I'm operating on yin-yang caricatures.

Still: a friend of mine had a daughter who went through a gender-identity crisis, and eventually elected to become a man. As she started the testosterone shots, she—he—called dad up to say, "I had no idea what you've been coping with all these years. I am unbelievably horny and restless."

Bottom line: by the time I'm done with menopause, my male characters will be the envy of my writer's group.

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February 18, 2006

What Emancipation Proclamation?

It was like a train wreck on paper. I read every disgusting word.


Via Ace.

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January 20, 2006

Be a Man!

There's a fascinating book out by a woman named Norah Vincent, about her experience cross-living [dressing as a male, and taking on a male persona] for some months. It contains tremendous insight into some of the issues men cope with day after day.

Insty plucks out some of her observations on the heterosexual dating scene from "the other side," and receives e-mail from some tired veterans of the gender wars.

Male, female, gay, or straight—we've all just got to be nicer to each other.

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January 16, 2006

As the Old Man Would Say,

"what an uppity gender."

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January 15, 2006

The Varieties of Machismo

There are endless variations, really:

• Among my high-school crowd, it had to do with how many digits of Pi one had memorized;

• Within my evangelical crowd, it's a matter of how quickly one can come up with a chapter and verse from Scripture, given its content;

• When I'm with my husband's friends, the goal appears to be coming up with that one line of the evening that has a roomful of jaded people laughing out loud;

• Some men appear to think it has to do with how much money they make, and this is the dullest kind of macho out there;

• With my gay male friends it's often "who has the nicest home?" (And, please: do not tell me gay men aren't macho. That's an urban myth. It's just a bit subtler: men are men, whether they're gay or straight.)

• Among bloggers, it all comes down to 1) traffic, and 2) whether you've actually made a dollar or two off of this bad habit, or might be likely to.

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November 25, 2005

Over at Pillage Idiot,

Cousin Attila points out that the definition of "abstinence" may be changing.

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May 07, 2005

Had You Noticed . . .?

The FDA is run by self-hating closeted gay men.

If they all just got boyfriends, the problem would solve itself.

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April 04, 2005

On Marriage and Social Tinkering

Megan McArdle makes a case for being thoughtful when we consider changes in our laws that could create social upheaval. Her essay is nominally about how we should approach the question of gay marriage, but it is also a sound defense of conservatism in general.

The piece is written by a libertarian, for libertarians. It warns us to walk soft, intellectually and legislatively.

McArdle (aka Jane Galt) actually appears quite sympathetic to the cause of gay marriage, but she points out that any construct we don't like should be looked at in the light of "why is this here in the first place?" In the case of gay marriage, we have to be able to answer the issue of why marriage has been so relentlessly het over the milennia—before we begin our tinkering. (And, no: "because society has always comprised homophobic bigots!" is not the place to start.)

My impression is that marriage started as a way to get property from one generation to the next in an orderly fashion, using children as the vehicle. It's become a lot of other things over the past few hundred years (including the idea beginning in the 1920s that people should be friends with those whom they married—that was new and different). But it's primarily concerned itself with property and with children.

Now that there's no consistent relationship between marriage and having kids—the two seem independent of each other, to tell you the truth—I'm not so sure it isn't time to look into this.

But get some states to do it first. Have them iron out all the complex legal issues it entails (e.g., custody battles and the like) before the whole country plunges into this.

Let's do it right. And let's remember that we need to find out what that is first.


Via Insty.

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January 26, 2005

Sex in the Morning

Turns out there's a huge controversey about it. I just mentioned it in the context of someone I was going out with when I was just out of college, and suddenly the "pro-morning sex" people were lining up against the "anti-morning sex" people. I was fascinated, since I hadn't realized any females at all fell into that first group.

Questions:

1) [for women] How long does it take you to switch gears to get interested in sex in the morning? Is coffee/tea required? Do you need to shower, or at least brush your teeth?

2) [for men] Is sex in the morning the whole . . . gamut, or is it just taking care of your own side of things? That is, if you have sex in the morning can you really get the woman all the way to the Shining City on the Pillow? How? [I'm sure there's a way to be delicate about this.] Or is it just understood that this one is for you, and you'll do something nice for her later on?

3) [for women] If there's been some policy misunderstanding and you wake up in the middle of a congress, what's the etiquette?--"Um, you seem to have your dick in me"? Is there a tactful way to say "no" at that point?

4) [for women] Are you ever tempted to wake the man up for sex, say in the middle of the night? Ever do anything about it?

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September 29, 2004

I've Never Quibbled, If It Was Ribald

Via Christophe comes this rather alarming piece in the Baltimore Sun, which suggests that the Bush Administration is going to be cracking down on smut. Now I would love it if they were planning on tackling smut spam, which is a different issue entirely: I despise the thought that my college-age neice and my grandmother in her 90s are to be subjected to disgusting mailings that promote kinds of sex that they don't even know exists . . . and all couched in such a way as to make sex appear really dirty, and to imply that eroticism degrades women in a way it doesn't men. Women being, I suppose, broken by their desires at the same time men are lifted up by same to become almost godlike. If the spammers are right, the best way for married boy-girl couples to resolve arguments is to simply have sex. This way the man wins, because the woman has betrayed the fact that she has a libido. At the same time, he's proven himself to Have! A! Libido! The man wins, and the woman loses.

That's not quite how it works in my household, oddly enough.

Anyway, my point is that the sex spammers must be crushed, because no one should be subjected to words and images in their in boxes that suggest they, their bodies, their urges—and all women—are ugly. Not unless they seek it out, in which case they should have a good time.

We need to remember prohibition, and the contempt for law that came about when laws were passed and enforced that ran against people's philosophies and expectations.

For the most part, this is a terrible use of precious resources. I see that it's a genuine crusade for Ashcroft, but I hope Bush keeps him on a leash. And I pray that it's only window dressing, like the ill-fated constitutional amendment that was supposed to protect marriage from change—but really protected the President against the charge that he wasn't fighting the culture wars he has little or no interest in.

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August 03, 2004

On Masculinity

Via Michelle Malkin comes this rather idiotic essay reprinted by Jen Martinez. The original is here; it's by Gramaugus of Frizzen Sparks, and contains a lot of hand-wringing about how men just aren't masculine enough any more:

Ok folks, I have had it. I've taken all I can stand and I can't stand no more. Every time my TV is on, all that can be seen is effeminate men prancing about, redecorating houses and talking about foreign concepts like "style" and "feng shui." Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, trans-sexual, metrosexual, non sexual; blue, green, and purple-sexual-bogus definitions have taken over the urban and suburban world!

Real men of the world, stand up, scratch your butt, belch, and yell "ENOUGH!" I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture wars, the Retrosexual movement.

Of course, those real men who want to publicly belch and scratch their butts may find it more difficult to behave like heterosexuals . . . unless heterosexuality is only a matter of reading skin magazines with one hand. Or resorting to Jen Martinez. Of course, Martinez won't be interested; she's hopped into her time machine to look for a cro-magnon.

Some characteristics are given for the ideal male, a "retrosexual":

A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged in a serious healthy relationship - i. e., hunting, boxing, shot putting, shooting, cigars, car maintenance.

There's some sort of masculinity point system in play here; men must have lots of macho in the bank, so that they can take the "acceptable manliness decline" it takes to get married. In contrast, my husband gets more masculine with each passing year. Of course, some of us see real masculinity, done right, as a mature shouldering of responsibility, rather than a cheap conglomeration of superficial traits.

Apparently, real men are also adept at dealing with snow:

A Retrosexual man can drive in snow (hell, a blizzard) without sliding all over or driving under 20 mph, without anxiety, and without high-centering his ride on a plow berm.

There are therefore no Real Men in the entire South or Southwest. Unless they moved from somewhere else. If such men do drive in a snowy region they should do it drunk, so they can be free of "anxiety."

Naturally, I was reminded of this stupid chestnut by Kim du Toit, "The Pussification of America," in which he essentially tried to tell me that my brother and father weren't masculine because they don't work on cars, and that my husband is only masculine enough because he owns guns—and barely so, as I understand it. When I first read it I was astonished that someone would actually attempt to dictate to men what their hobbies should be:

Men shouldn't buy "self-help" books unless the subject matter is car maintenance, golf swing improvement or how to disassemble a fucking Browning BAR. We don't improve ourselves, we improve our stuff.

Beautiful, I remember thinking at the time. So if you're an asshole, you get to stay an asshole, because that's more manly. Damned convenient. Character, apparently, never enters into the du Toit conception of masculinity.

HereÂ’s another way of looking at it: a real man doesnÂ’t need to be told by any idiot blogger what hobbies he may or may not have.

My husband got shot while serving his country, and in fact he does like to get together with his best guy friend and watch Westerns. But if he were cooking or knitting or gardening or buying clothes for himself—or, yes, figuring out how to improve the feng shui in the house—heÂ’d damn well have earned the right to do that.

IÂ’m really fed up with people—men and women—who purport to tell us exactly what Real Masculinity should look like, in every particular. They are not liberating us from the stultifying realities of modern life. They are simply dictating, Taliban-style, what society should look like.

Good God, Jen. Find yourself a nice caveman, by all means. And all of you: leave my husband, my brother, and my father alone.

UPDATE Jen apparently didn't write the essay; she reprinted it (without making it a blockquote; hence my [and Michelle Malkin's] confusion). I've re-written the opening paragraphs as best I can and added a link to the original.


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