Why does Cosmo, a magazine aimed at women, have its' cover stories all about how to please a man in bed, and positions men enjoy, instead of sex tips aimed at well, women, the nominal audience of the magazine?

And why didn't I think of this until somebody else mentioned it? Because that's what patriarchy is, it's not just a matter of evil stomping boots, it's making things invisible too.
Inspired by a discussion over on Tim's forum...

A lot of the problems in the paper comics industry would probably get a lot better if everyone involved (fans, creators, etc) were getting laid more often.

I'm just sayin.
Okay, y'know, maybe this is really a stupid question. But it's been bugging me lately.

One of the givens whenever discussions about porn or information about sex or anything like that comes up is "We've got to protect the children! Keep this away from the children!" Honestly, why? What's the problem if kids see naked people, or even people having sex? Seriously, kids who haven't hit puberty won't care, they think kissing is gross, they wouldn't even believe descriptions of sex. And if kids have hit puberty, then they're going to be able to find pictures of naked people one of many places. And even if they couldn't...

So what? Why are people so set on keeping kids ignorant about sex? Ignorance doesn't protect people, and seeing somebody naked isn't going to scar a kid for life.

Yeah, I'm never getting elected to political office now. And if I ever have kids, maybe I'll get all paranoid about keeping them away from naked people too. But right now, I just don't get it.
Okay, anybody who doubted most of the leaders of the anti-abortion crusades are really anti-sex? How about this little tidbit of new lunacy?

"In the memo released by the FDA, Dr. Curtis Rosebraugh, an agency medical officer, wrote: "As an example, she [Woodcock] stated that we could not anticipate, or prevent extreme promiscuous behaviors such as the medication taking on an 'urban legend' status that would lead adolescents to form sex-based cults centered around the use of Plan B."

Rosebraugh indicated he found no reason to bar nonprescription sales of Plan B."

Mmmyep. Teenage sex cultists are calling for the morning after pill. Because, evidently, teenage sex cultists wouldn't use any of the other kinds of contraception available. Man, why didn't anybody tell me about these teenage sex cults a decade ago?

These people aren't against abortion, they're against contraception, sex ed, and programs that support new parents. They don't love children, they hate sex. They think sex is evil, bad, dirty, and sinful, and if a woman is enough of a slut to be having sex, then she should face the "consequences" (read: punishment) of pregnancy and STDs. If they really were at all interested in reducing the number of abortions, they'd be for sex ed and contraceptives that would make it unnecessary in the first place. Sweet monkeys.

And the obsession about kids seeing Janet Jackson's nipple and that kind of thing, I've never understood at all, really. What exactly is the good of trying to "protect" kids from finding out about sex? Is seeing naked people really going to scar kids forever somehow? I'd say probably not. What's more likely to scar kids for life and warp their views about sex and their bodies is guilt. The constant "Sex is bad! Your body is bad!" chorus has done more to fuck up more kids than any number of boobies at the Super Bowl or online.

It's just another bullshit scare to prevent people from worrying about REAL problems.

(More at Digby, Obsidian Wings, and tristero, where I stole the title of this post from.)

__

Apr. 30th, 2006 12:37 am
A familiar form was sprawled out on my when I pushed the door open. I stopped in half a step as she looked up and smiled at me, then my brain caught up with itself and I walked in and didn't acknowledge her.

"What, not even a hello?" she asked.

"Hello, succubus."

"Aww, what gave me away?" she asked.

"You're not her," I said, "I knew her. She wouldn't be here, she's still in California, last I knew. And you're still wearing the Green Lantern shirt."

"But you like the shirt," she said.

I chucked the stuff from my pockets into my little stuff crate. "That's not the point. And that's not how it works, either. Besides, if you changed your mind and were trying to tempt me, you picked wrong. It's been a long time since I was in love with her."

"Pfft, love," she said, "Like I care about that? You still lust over her, though."

"Meh," I said, "It's not like I really have a lot of other women to lust over. I've never really found celebrities all that hot. What do you care, anyway?"

"It's my job to care. And you're really bad at lying," she said, and flickered through several other people's bodies, but with the same clothes.

I looked away. Not out of embarrassment or chivalry or disgust or disorientation, I just didn't want to deal with her right now. "Are you quite done?" I asked.

"Are you blushing?" she asked.

"No, I'm annoyed. You're not any of them. Besides, it's not just looks that matter. You're still you, and annoying."

"I'm annoying? Do you realize how annoying it is to put in the kind of work I do, and then have you just ignore it? You're annoying, and in denial."

"Probably," I said, "But I don't know what you're talking about."

She plopped down on the bed, back in her "regular" shape. "Sure you don't. If you don't it's because you don't want to know."

"Probably," I admitted, "But what's your point? Technically, shouldn't annoying you be a good thing, what with you being a demon and all?"

"Some enlightened sensitive guy you are, first you're saying how important looks are, now you're making stereotypes?"

I sat down in my scooty office chair. "If I wanted to deal with baseless insults, I'd go argue with the conservative trolls in an IRC politics channel. Are you just here to complain that I'm too boring and you're not going to make some quota or something? And I'm supposed to care because why? I don't even think you're real."

"You said that last time. I've got no worries on quotas, but sloth is such a bloody boring sin. Would it kill you to actually do something once in a while?"

"You know, that would be a lot more effective and a lot less creepy if it weren't for the implied 'Because then I'll have something interesting to watch.' at the end of that sentence. And I'm not really sure I should be taking advice from a demon anyway. You could easily be lying."

"Devil. And what if out interests match? You'd probably have a lot more fun if you listened to me. And since you've got enough pride to figure you know things better than generations of people before you, there's no reason to worry about getting in trouble, now is there? So, next time, give in to temptation."

"Hang on, wait a second, that argument doesn't make any sense. Just because a lot of people thought something for a long time doesn't make it true. Well, unless this was a fantasy story where belief molds reality, but that's getting off track. Generations of people had slaves, that doesn't make slavery right. And yeah, people in the future will probably look back at us and go "Man, did they really believe those crazy things?" like we do when we look back at ancient Greek myth, but that's not really my problem."

She sat back and blinked at me for a second, then shook her head. "Wow. Can you pick any more irrelevant part of that to fixate on? You completely missed the whole point, which was that you need to go out and get laid."

I shrugged. "Probably. I'm not big on just random sex, though," I said.

"That," she said, holding up a finger, "Is probably because you haven't given it a fair chance."

"Um. Okay. Generalities really don't do much good. If you really wanted to help, you could hang out with me and provide a running translation from Girl for me or something."

"Helping really isn't my line of work."

"Yeah, I kinda figured you'd say something like that. Besides, since you're just a personification of part of my imagination, if you could provide a realtime translation from Girl, I could do it myself."

"There is one thing I can tell you," she said.

"What's that?" I asked.

She was already mostly wreathed in pink smoke. "Girl usually doesn't involve computer programming metaphors."

Vanilla perfume and sulfur are two scents that really do not go well together at all.

Before )
There was a girl I didn't know in my bed when I opened the door. This is the kind of thing that happens unfortunately infrequently, so I figured something was up. She looked maddeningly familiar, and was pretty cute, not just because she was wearing a Green Lantern shirt (and other clothes, yes) and flipping through one of my gaming books. She looked up. "Oh," she said, "You're back."

"Yes, I am," I said, dodging around the bed to empty my change into the change basket and the rest of my pockets into my Stuff Box. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Being bored," she said.

"Ah," I said. "So who are you, exactly, and why are you in my bed? Not that I'd necessarily complain, but I haven't been to any parties that involved drinking until I passed out and couldn't remember what was happening in, well, ever."

"Why do you think I'm so bored?" she asked.

She was still lying on the bed, posing in what was probably so long practiced to look unconscious that it actually was. "Ah," I said, and sat down in my scooty chair. "So is the regular guy sick, are you the competition, or am I just losing my mind?"

"Regular guy? Oh, the hippie?" she waved a hand lazily, "Meh. His kind don't like us. All anti-pleasures of the flesh, blah blah blah."

"I figured. Okay, so what kind of succubus are you, then? Like, if we make smooches, do I get negative levels? Suck my soul out into some kind of jar and take it back to trade for trinkets? Lillim from In Nomine, who're special and looking for favors to barter? Freaky kinky Japanese kind? Or the less evil kind that just show up and have sex with guys because... I don't really know why. Probably because Og the Cave-Dude couldn't get Ua the Cave-Chick to do what floated his boat, so he made something up?"
She sat up crosslegged. "You really are a hopeless nerd. You find a woman lying on your bed and your first suspicion is she's a supernatural temptress?"

"Am I wrong?" I asked, crossing my own legs on my chair.
"No, but that's not the point of the thing."

"Whatever you say," I said, "So are you going to offer me nights of unbridled passion in exchange for something or other?"

"No! What do I look like, a whore? Do I look like I'm in seductress clothes?"

I shrugged and titled my head. "Well, that Green Lantern shirt is pretty hot. Plus you're posing. And your smile went 'ting.' I heard it. And now you're arcing your back to show off your boobs."

She stopped arcing and deflated a little. "After a couple thousand years, mannerisms become habit. And you nerds are hopeless. How much plainer a shirt could I have?" she asked, hands raised.

"Honestly, I don't care. You can entertain yourself, if you're not here to try and tempt me with the pleasures of the flesh, I could be writing or studying or making witty on the internet."

"But I'm BORED," she said.

I spun my chair back around. "Okay, fine. How about this. You said you're not a whore, but isn't that kind of the whole shtick of a succubus, demonic ladies, or guys, whatever, who trade mortals really good sex for souls or promises? Isn't that the definition of a whore?"

She sat back and gave me a nasty glare over crossed arms. "It's not the same. Devils work differently than humans."

"How?"

"I'm not going to tell you, you called me a whore."

I sat back and considered this for a moment. She just glared at me. I shrugged and spun back toward the computer and turned it on. "I have better ways to waste time than this."

"I KNOW!" she said, "And that's why I'm so bored!"

"I'm sorry I'm not having enough sex for you to sate your demonic voyeuristic tendencies, but I really don't care."

"It's not even about sex," she said, "But how am I supposed to tempt you to keep you from accomplishing anything that could threaten infernal interests, when you don't do anything?"

Hang on a second. Did a probably imaginary supernatural creature just bitch me out for not having a life? Yeah, sounded that way. That's pathetic, but also funny. I'm not sure which it's more of. I ended up snickering, to keep up an exterior appearance of bored amusement. "Maybe you're just not very good at tempting," I said, "And trying to put the blame on me. Seriously, I haven't noticed any attempts at temptation. Of course, I don't really see sex in and of itself as some kind of evil temptation thing that's gonna damn me to a Hell I'm pretty sure doesn't exist, so maybe you just got a bad assignment."

She snorted. "Please. Dude, you barely seen temptation. Don't get so cocky about how you'd react."

"And yet, you're still sitting on the bed, in shabby clothes, and not even trying."

She sighed annoyedly, and I heard her stand up and step over. "I'm not here to seduce you," she said, "I could have sworn I said that. I'm bored. Because you're not making this interesting. How am I supposed to justify my budget if you don't?"

"Demons have budgets?"

"Devils," she corrected, "And no, but it's a metaphor."

She leaned on the back of the chair. "Would you stop that?" I asked, "It's annoying."

"No," she said, "Don't you know women are like cats?"

I kept several witty retorts back, because they didn't seem to have a receptive audience. "Okay, fine," I said, "A question. I've never met you before, so why do you look so familiar?"

"Because I look like the kind of woman you find hot."

"I find lots of women hot," I said, "Who all look different. And some I've never seen."

She chuckled. A sexy chuckle, of course. "Shapeshifter, duh. Well, that and your limited mortal perceptions."

"Of course, silly me. Or you're just a figment of my imagination, or a projected part of some of my personality so I can babble about things to a metaphor."

"Really, smart guy? If I'm from your head, why am I a chick?"

I grinned and spun around. "Mental eye candy, and 'cause I'd rather talk about sex with a woman. Some things guys just don't discuss with each other much."

She stood back and looked down at me. "We haven't even talked about sex. And well, if you're not going to offer a real challenge, maybe convincing you I'm real will be a little entertaining."

She bamfed away in a cloud of pink smoke, that smelled faintly of brimstone and perfume. Of course.

For Context, see:
Stories from the Rabbit Hole
Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
There's a Buddha on My Bed
A Discussion of Procrastination and Buddhism
Buddhablog
Haven't Seen Him in a While
The Illusion of Pain
Stuff that Binds
The Joy of Scrubdom
More About Failure
Book Reviews with a Buddha
Who's Afraid of a Little Enlightenment?
Special Guest Star Daily Drabble
Conversation
Sacredelicious
I know plenty of bad pickup lines. Especially if you define bad as ones that don't work, but I appreciate them just for their humor value. Because, face it, lines like "That's a nice dress. It'd look really good on my floor." are just funny. When I was discussing it with one of my (female) co-workers, she said she can't take any seriously, because all the ones she's heard have either been tried on her or friends of hers. Her theory was part of why bad pickup lines are funny is the same reason stupid warning labels are funny. Because somebody must have done whatever stupid thing, to make it needed.

I, of course, didn't believe her. Honestly, lots of bad pickup lines are obviously jokes, I figured. So she told me about the time somebody had come up to her at a party and asked her "Are you tired? Because you've been running through my mind all night."

She had to leave the room because she was laughing too hard. Even at this remove of time and not knowing the guy, I felt kinda sorry for him. I mean, I laughed, and couldn't believe he'd tried that, but that's hardly the kind of reaction any guy wants to get.

But that, plus the way too long drive to and from my class let me think up an idea. See, I think there are no good pickup lines. They're all pretty bad. There's a time and a place, though, when they can work. It's all in the context. Even the outrageously bad ones can work, by getting the person to laugh and giving you a chance to talk to them. And besides, staking out a ridiculous position at the beginning is the key to any kind of bargaining, right?
He's been hanging around for a couple of days now. Not saying anything, just sort of there every so often. Occasionally, a toenail spanged off somewhere. Finally, I decided if he was going to hang around, I'd get something useful out of him.

"I have a question," I announced.

"I know," the buddha said.

"Of course you do. Cosmic one-ness and time being an illusion and all that. So if I didn't ask, would you get a headache?"

"I'd wait. Like you said, time is an illusion, whenever you ask, that would be when you ask."

I pointed at him. "That," I said, "Is complete and utter Mystic Bullshit. Of course whenever I ask will be when I ask. That's not metaphysical wisdom, that's a tautology. But that aside, the question. There's a whole bunch of various vaguely new-agey CDs out there called things like 'Buddha Lounge' or 'Buddha bar' or 'Buddha Laundromat' or so on. Are those all approved and do you guys get any royalties from them?"

"Unfortunately, there wasn't anything like the Trademark Office around back then. And by the time things like that were invented, there were already so many competing claims, there would have been no point. Besides, a buddha's not interested in money or the things of the world."
"I dunno," I said, "that kind of cash could buy a lot of saffron robes. And what if somebody does something stupid and slaps your name on it?"

He shrugged. "What of it? Their stupidity would be of their making, not ours. And it would hardly be the first, nor the last, stupid thing done with or for the name of religion."

"Speaking of things done in the name of religion. There's something I started wondering lately. Why does it seem like so many religions, especially conservative ones, have such small and petty and fragile visions of God?"

He perched across the room, on my awesomely ugly retro bedside table. "I'm not sure if asking you to explain would make anybody any less mad at you, but you'll probably go on anyway."

"Yes, I will. Okay, obviously, this doesn't apply to a lot of religions, mostly some of the stripes of Christianity that get on display here in the US, but. Okay. So God is omniscient and omnipotent, and yet, we humans can meddle in God's plans. It just seems like, y'know, if God's all of those things, wouldn't any Plans have a capital P, and be flexible enough to deal with a little meddling? I mean, hell, half the time more interesting things come out of actual interactions than what you planned, you know what I mean? So saying God's Plans can be wrecked by us meddling kids seems kinda weak. Not very Ineffable."

"You might want to investigate philosophers besides Terry Pratchett some time."

"Hush, I'm pontificating. Except I don't have a funky hat like a pontiff. Hang on." I dug around a little and found the Robin Hood hat I'd gotten at the renfaire last year. "There we go. Hat. Now, as I was saying. Yeah, a lot of the stuff I'm thinking is covered in Good Omens, but some of it, actually, I got from C.S. Lewis. Which is why I don't understand the God of the fundies. Any God worthy the name, I'd figure, would care more about what kind of person you are and what you did, rather than if you said the secret words to get out scott free. Of course, that leads to all sorts of fun theological arguments I really don't care about, like if God is infinitely just and infinitely merciful, which wins? Rock, meet object."

"Do I even need to be here? There's things I could be doing."

"Yes. Mad ranting always needs an audience. See, the thing in particular that set me off was sex, which lots of religions seem to hate. But in particular about sex, birth control. The Catholic Church doesn't like birth control, for reasons I've never quite gotten. The Internets tell me it's because Catholics should "always be open to the possibility of pregnancy" and suchlike, and that just sorta baffles me. Okay, so you're telling me, if God wants somebody to get pregnant, God's going to lose to a piece of latex? I don't think making something that thin rip would take any kind of miracleing, you know? It's part of the whole thing I was talking about before. If God made humans, God knows what humans are like, and God would know how people are going to react. And if God knows all that, there doesn't seem to be much room for free will, but that's a whole extra ball of stuff I don't feel like getting into, this was just inspired by the ridiculous idea that an omnipotent God is going to be defeated by a condom."

He perched there quietly for several seconds. "What? Oh, you finished. Part of the problem is you're you. You're not these other people, so you see things through what you've seen and done and think. And a lot of religion ends up being a giant ink-blot, since it's almost by definition about things that the human mind isn't capable of understanding, yes, objection noted, people project themselves onto it, their hopes, their fears, their values, through all sorts of different things. How many different ways do people read any holy book? And you value cleverness, so you figure well, of COURSE, God's going to be clever, if there is a God. Other people look for other things, so those are what they see the most."

"Like the cliched anecdote about blind men and elephants," I said.

"Cliche, but yes. And the other thing you forget is not everyone thinks like you. People don't think all of their values out all the way, to see where they conflict. Not even you, for all that you sit around typing to yourself. Cognitive dissonance isn't a fun feeling."

"Meh," I said, "It's not like I have anything else to be doing."

He tipped gently over onto the bed, without moving otherwise. "So you say, but is there any real excuse for being bored in this world, now?"

I shrugged. "Probably not," I admitted, "But that still doesn't answer my original question."

"Perhaps you should ask the Pope. That might be interesting to see. On the other hand, you made up a world where the plans of the gods can be knocked willy-nilly pretty easily, would you really find the world interesting if things couldn't be hacked?"

He had a point. Which is of course when he got up and left.


Prior:
Stories from the Rabbit Hole
Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
There's a Buddha on My Bed
A Discussion of Procrastination and Buddhism
Buddhablog
Haven't Seen Him in a While
The Illusion of Pain
Stuff that Binds
The Joy of Scrubdom
More About Failure
Book Reviews with a Buddha
Who's Afraid of a Little Enlightenment?
Special Guest Star Daily Drabble
Conversation
Okay. One of the time-tested plots of things is two people fighting over the affections of a third. That's all well and good, classic, completely understandable. Except. The thing I don't get about it. Okay. So the thing is. You lure this person away from whoever they're currently with, for whatever justification (they're a jerk, they don't deserve them, etc, etc), whatever, right? Hurray for the hero, and the jerk gets his comeuppance, right? (substitute appropriate gender terms as available, but I'm a guy, and it's slightly more common to see men fighting over women, so)

For example. Spiderman 2. MJ runs off from the wedding because she realizes she loves Spidey. AWWWW. So kyoote!

Except, here's the thing. If the person could be lured away from someone else, wouldn't that kind of be a sign they can be lured away from YOU, too? You're basically betting you can be more awesome than every other person they meet ever, or that somehow, this time's different, even after you've proved their loyalty has limits. Maybe it's just me, but that sounds stupid and self-defeating.

Now, it may make perfect sense from an evolutionary perspective (after all, sometimes only one time's necessary for genes to get passed on), and maybe you'd only have to be awesomer than the world for long enough for all the pheremonic and other sorts of semi-instinctive pair bonding things to kick in, and I guess that could work, but still. And yes, I know humans are more complicated than I'm going into here, but it still doesn't make sense. Steal someone away from who they used to be with, then you have no cause to be surprised when they get stolen by someone else.

Actually, that might make a good plot point for something. Character A steals character B's affections from character C, then character A is shocked, SHOCKED! when character D steals character C's affections. And character C goes "Well, dude, that you could steal me away really shoulda bee a clue."

I dunno, maybe I'm just cynical tonight.
Fertility rituals. The kind where it's spring and people frolic outside and dance around exceedingly symbolic things.

Sorta like Spring Break, but with more Goofy Tradition.
"So why do succubi, is that the right plural, come to Earth, anyway?"

"To steal the souls of lustful mortal men."

"Well okay, yeah, the souls thing. But that doesn't explain why you're here so much."

The succubus raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever been to Hell? Not really somewhere you want to stay. And don't get me started on demons. They're all 'RAR! Look at me, I have bigger spikes than the others! Watch me inflict suffering!' Which is fine sometimes, but there's times a girl wants some cuddles, y'know? Demons don't grok cuddles."

"I guess that makes sense."
Tonight... Okay, this morning, I'm going to puncture one of the myths near and dear to the heart of many a geek guy. One which most people probably figured out long ago, but while I may be smart, my brain seems to run a bit behind the world. Sometimes five minutes, sometimes much longer.

Chicks don't dig jerks. Seriously. Oh, I'm sure there are some, generalizations are always wrong in specific. But for the most part, it's not the fact they're jerks that interests the women. It's a matter of signal jamming, and something much simpler too. I'll try and explain.

Women are attracted to alpha males. Just look at the kinds of women that hang around celebrities, CEOs, and other guys with fame, power, prestige, money, that sort of thing. It's not their fault, it's genetic and mental hardwiring, the same kind that makes them even attracted to guys in the first place, so not worth bitching about. And it's not absolute, but it's there. Power and social status are aphrodisiacs. And don't start smirking guys, we do the same thing. Though it's generally not to exactly the same kinds of stimulus, it's more visual. It's all a legacy of our East African Plains Ape ancestors, because it's best for the women to have children who share genes with the most successful males, who're best able to provide for said kids. Whereas guys tend to be more picking women for their health and ability to have kids who'll survive the upteen million stupid childhood diseases. But that's all just background.

What, you're wondering, do alpha males have to do with jerks? Jerks aren't usually alpha males, even though lots of alpha males are jerks! And what's all this talk about "alpha males", we're all unique and special flowers! I'll address the first question in a second. Third dude, I totally empathise with you, but there's still social hierarchies out there, and probably will be as long as there's people. Even if they're just as insipid as the local tiddlywinks league. And unlike MMORPGs, there's no floating name and rank over your head, no right click context menu to bring up the person's vital stats. What you see isn't what you get. But it's all you've got to go on. Besides what people say, there's a whole host of other kinds of communication, clothing, body language, etc, etc, etc. And if you're a geek like me, you're absolutely incompetent at reading all of that, which is part of the problem. But back to jerks.

Very few people think they're jerks. Maybe a few more than think they're evil, but maybe not. Evil's got some romance, being a jerk doesn't. But the other thing jerks don't realize is they're not alpha males. If it's stupidity, cockiness, acting, or whatever other reasons, they act like what they think they are, which is usually big badass alpha males. And since they act like it, that's what the women have to go on, at least until they figure out how to tell the cues that reveal jerks. Which, unfortunately, often have to be learned the hard way.

That's part of it. But it's not the main part. Most guys aren't alpha males. Everybody knows that. There's only so much subconscious fooling can do. No, the main reason jerks get the girls is much simpler. Because they act interested. Because they ask them out. Even if jerks are bad at reading women's signals, one of the defining traits that makes many jerks is they're self-absorbed. They don't wait around until they're sure if a woman's interested, they just go and hit on her. And if it doesn't work, they go after a different one. But that's not the important part. The important part is the asking. Even more than alpha males, women are interested in guys who act interested. Just like guys are more interested in women who act interested. Women have egos too. And if you don't act interested, they have no reason to figure you're not. Relationships aren't like nuclear war, the only way to win is to play the game.

Which doesn't mean be a jerk. Because like I said, women learn from experience, and jerks aren't worth it. Even if it fools them at first, they're not going to want to stay with a jerk. That's what Slick's been learning.

So, dudes, it's not that women like jerks, it's just far too often jerks are the only ones who ask women out. Fix that, and you'd be doing a service to the women. Everybody profits!

(Much of this was loosely cribbed from Sex Tips for Geeks, by Eric S. Raymond, which I saw linked off /. ages and ages ago. But knowing something and grokking it are different.)
This is probably one of the least important things I could be worrying about. But what the hell, that's what LJ's for.

There's not really a good term in English to refer to the female breast. There's words that describe it, but most aren't really suitable for general use. Breast is entirely too clinical. Boobies is only good for puns and ironic "I'm six!" things. Tits is only good for puns. Gazoongas is right out. There's the romance novel method of involved slanting metaphors. Is there ANY suitable word, preferably one that won't get you slapped by any females in the area?

And yes, there's the same problems referring to genitals of both genders, but I'm not writing porn here.

A theory

Jan. 13th, 2006 01:05 am
I have a theory. About evolution, sex, and relationships. At least partially about them. It's probably stupid though.

So, scary movies. $Guy and $Girl go to some scary movie. Ohnoes! There's a monster on the screen! Now, everybody knows full well it's just a movie, it's not real. On a conscious level, anyway. But part of our brain doesn't realize that. It sees a big monster. Huge. On some level, you see it, it's real. So, $guy puts his arm around $girl, to "protect" her. And hey! Movie ends, monster goes away. Even though it's not exactly relevant these days in most of the developed world, one of the important things women looked for in a mate for millions of years was the ability to protect her and any spawnlings from monsters. Usually lions or other kinds of happy grassland critters, and not so much zombies, but the principle's the same. And since the monster in the movie didn't eat $girl, then $guy gets some credit for protection. Not on any conscious level, 'cause dudes, it's just a movie. But there's a lot more bits in our brains than the parts that think in words.

Or I could just be thinking too much and talking bullshit. Or all three!

PG-13

Dec. 23rd, 2005 01:45 pm
Matt was perfectly blissful until she grabbed his butt. "Hey, woah, what?" he said, "This was trading backrubs, not trying to get into bed."

"We're already in bed."

"Yeah, but we're dressed. I didn't try to feel you up."

"You sure you're a guy?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I don't know you well enough to sleep with you, either. I know when to say no."

"You don't think I'm attractive?" she asked.

He rolled over, almost knocking her over. "I'm saying..."

She'd taken her shirt off.

"Now that's not fair. You know guys can't say no to boobs."
Well, obviously not all of it, but there's a significant portion of the "pro-life" crowd that doesn't give two shits about children, or women, or anything like that. Well, not protecting them, anyway. All they want is to enforce their medieval sexual morality on people.

From The Washington Post:

""A new vaccine that protects against cervical cancer has set up a clash between health advocates who want to use the shots aggressively to prevent thousands of malignancies and social conservatives who say immunizing teenagers could encourage sexual activity.

...

Conservative medical groups have been fielding calls from concerned parents and organizations, officials said. "I've talked to some who have said, 'This is going to sabotage our abstinence message,' " said Gene Rudd, associate executive director of the Christian Medical and Dental Associations. But Rudd said most people change their minds once they learn more, adding that he would probably want his children immunized. Rudd, however, draws the line at making the vaccine mandatory.

"Parents should have the choice. There are those who would say, 'We can provide a better, healthier alternative than the vaccine, and that is to teach abstinence,' " Rudd said.""

Um. Not exactly, no. Unless you're talking life-long abstinence and ensure nobody ever gets raped. And the argument that ""We're going to be sending a message to a lot of kids that you just take this shot and you can be as sexually promiscuous as you want and it's not going to be a problem," he said. "That's just not true."" is moronic.

It's not about making people healthier, it's about the fact they'd lose their "OMG CANCER!" threats to use to try and scare teenagers out of having sex. Which demonstrably DON'T WORK, anyway.

More at Obsidian Wings.
There is a quote on the wall in the music department, where I work nearly every day. It says "People whose sensibility is destroyed by music in trains, airports, lifts, cannot concentrate on a Beethoven quartet."

I can't help but reflect on the irony as I try and tune out the shitty in-store play music it's my responsibility to keep running. Even though I think the quote is full of it.

--

Things that piss me off about the Christmas Holiday Season, much as I enjoy Christmas:

1: Decorations up at the beginning of October. FUCKING OCTOBER.

2: "A Christmas Story". I hate this movie. It's not funny. At all. But it's a "Christmas classic." Sure. It's about a whole family being dicks to each other back in the 40s, in a setting and era that has very little in common with my anything I have to deal with. Every character in the movie is mean and none of them are likable, not even the narrating kid. Hate.

--

If most people think everybody else is having more sex than them, then there's some extreme over-estimation of the amount of getting it on going on. Admittedly, at least half of a group is going to be below average, on average, but a few sluts and porn stars can REALLY skew the results, even with large sample sizes.

--

Yay for biofeedback. I've noticed being hungry makes most of my emotions exaggerated. Well, the negative ones, anyway. Amazing how much better having food can make me feel. Or maybe most of my problems are but small ones, they're just so close they seem huge.

--

When did Sesame Street turn into The Elmo Show?
From an evolutionary standpoint, I understand the point of playing hard to get. The female wants to convince the interested male he's special and she won't go around getting it on with other males, so makes it difficult to win her affections. This reassures the male about the probable paternity of any spawn, and thus makes him more likely to invest in their upbringing.

However, speaking as a guy, there's a VERY fine line between "hard to get" and "not interested". Yes, yes, "if it's too hard, you're not interested enough" or similar. Sure. Quite. Whatever you say.

Curse you sanitation and perfume, for you have rendered pheromones useless! USELESS I say! And also TOTALLY screwed up human mating rituals.

Chickporn

Aug. 7th, 2005 11:04 pm
Working at Barnes and Noble, I've had a chance to notice things I wouldn't have otherwise. One thing I've noticed is the amount of women writing about sex, or porn for women, or so on that's out there. Oh, I've known about romance novels, but these are shelved in fiction/literature, or on big displays in sci-fi (I'm looking at you, Laurel K. Hamilton), not in the little "romance novel" ghetto shelves. I could speculate about this meaning greater acceptance of women's sexuality or something, but the root reason is probably because it sells. One publisher makes money with it, another hires somebody to write a similar book and there you go. But still, it seems odd to me.

I guess it could be my patriarchal upbringing, threatened by women or something, but I don't really feel threatened. Confused, kinda, since porn for guys isn't sold in "reputable" bookstores, or when it is, it's tame stuff like Playboy, and hidden up on the top of the magazine rack, in the back. (Yes, I know, teh nekkidness, but I've never understood how, exactly, the sight of a naked body is supposed to scar kids for life. Especially in these days of the Internet, when the cover of Playboy is positively tame.) Also, I'm confused because where were all these women when I was a teenager and in college? Or, heck, now? The answer to that, of course, is places I'm not, out doing things. Or they could even be right in front of me, and I wouldn't notice or know, since I wouldn't ask, and I'm unattractive, poor, shy, and uninteresting, so they wouldn't have any reason to tell me.

Technorati Tags: Mindscribbles, Sex

Profile

Forsyth

April 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
232425262728 29
30      

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 19th, 2017 06:43 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios