Needs a little cream.
-Jill
I love the way my new corset blends into the shadows. I love how sultry I feel when I wear it. I hate how empty this bed is. Come join me.
When I was in high school, some guest speaker – a psychologist, maybe – told my class that men can’t be raped, because men do not have vaginas. When men are forcibly penetrated, it is – or at the time it was – called sexual assault. Imagine telling that to a man who’s wrapped in a blanket, fearfully and shamefully telling police through sobs and trembles what happened to him. “Hey, thanks. It doesn’t hurt anywhere near as bad now as it did when I thought it was rape.”
We have no open dialogue on rape in this country. Recently, comedian Daniel Tosh came under fire for a performance in which he said that rape jokes are always funny, and when heckled by an irate member of the audience, said it would be great if she was gang-raped. When I say “came under fire”, what I mean is that he was vilified by sex-positive bloggers and columnists, and then universally defended by his fellow standup comics via Twitter.
I understand the implication: By muzzling a comedian who dares to resort to material that ventures so far beyond the realm of politically incorrect that it can be termed “inflammatory”, “offensive”, and “an incitement to violence”, we chip further and further away at our collective right to free speech until it is just a momory. I consider myself a fan of standup comedy, and in the past I’ve defended the rights of other comedians to say things that I personally found reprehensible. And I defend Daniel Tosh’s right to do the same, even though the tirade in question does nothing to change my opinion of him as a lackluster comedian who somehow got lucky. Much like Dane Cook.
I understand that a clearly fictitious piece of entertainment such as a movie, a book, or a video game is much different than a performer seeming to exhort – even in jest – a crowd to visit an act of unspeakable violence and hatred upon another person. I get that. And while my opinion on Daniel Tosh’s words remains unchanged, I question how what he did is any different than similar outbursts by Michael Richards and Tracy Morgan, both of which resulted in tremendous backlash.
In 2006 Michael Richards screamed racial epithets and threats at an African American heckler (“Fifty years ago we’d have you upside-down with a fucking fork up your ass!”). In 2011, Tracy Morgan said during a performance that he would “pull out a knife and stab” his gay son if he spoke in an effeminate voice. Acting out of anger, one performer advocates lynching blacks in 1950s America. The other ostensibly normalizes violence against LGBT individuals, presumably for laughs. Both comedians were widely ostracized for their words, and both were eventually driven to apologize.
There is no “It Gets Better” project for rape survivors. Instead, our society trumpets an inexcusable, widespread “blame the victim” policy, and seems far too preoccupied with what a rape victim may have done to make the rapist rape her, or him, than it is with punishing, or even rehabilitating, those who rape. That a woman may be hesitant to report an incident of sexual violence for fear that she will be judged, belittled, or even penalized for having been a victim is a set of circumstances that I cannot bear. When someone reports a car theft, the police don’t suggest that this is what happens when one owns a nice car. Likewise, “What were you wearing?” should never be uttered by a detective investigating a rape.
I don’t necessarily blame Daniel Tosh, at least not primarily; while it’s true that unfunny comedians have no choice but to attempt to shock their audience, I believe that he was influenced the unfeeling reactions of an entitled, male-dominated society that has long stopped pretending to care about the rights of women. And I don’t necessarily blame his audience, who I’m guessing turned against the offended woman in the hopes that Tosh would invite them all backstage after his set. While their actions may have been insensitive and even cruel, they are to an extent victims of an all too unfortunate misogynistic standard that society – American society at least – seems determined to retain. But that doesn’t make them any less culpable.
When Dharun Ravi was found guilty in the Rutgers University webcam case that led to the suicide of his roommate Tyler Clementi, columnist Dan Savage and other gay rights advocates cited blame-shifting, likened Ravi to a scapegoat, and said that society as a whole was complicit in Clementi’s death. While having a sexual encounter broadcast via webcam – and being forcefully outed at the same time – was a horrible violation, it was likely a lifetime of adversity that drove Clementi to suicide. The point made by Savage, et. al was that by making an example of Ravi, society could alleviate its own guilt. To an extent, I get the same sense from Tosh’s rape joke. Yes, he said something that I believe transcends poor taste. But he was emboldened to do so by a society that apparently considers rape no big deal.
In the wake of the Tracy Morgan incident, Louis CK, a comedian I highly respect, defended Morgan and lamented the fact that by attacking him, LGBT individuals squandered an opportunity to open a dialogue not only on LGBT issues, but also traditional views of masculinity. He’s right; while offended parties are within their rights to voice their opinion of a comedian – or any artist – and his or her material, engaging in a sensible dialogue will benefit society in the long run as it may reshape long-held attitudes in need of changing. I’m not optimistic, but I hope that Daniel Tosh’s rape joke will not result in a squandered opportunity.
Update, 4.27.20: Obviously I no longer respect Louis CK. Anyone who still does following the numerous accusations of sexual misconduct against women (and the comedian’s subsequent admission thereof) probably stopped reading this post a couple paragraphs in.
Not long before this post was written and published, I’d mentioned my enjoyment of Louis CK’s comedy to a friend, who in an attempt to dissuade me said she’d “heard things” about him but wouldn’t elaborate as to the specifics. As she was a woman of color, I assumed she was talking about his casual use of the N-word – or various other words that straight white guys shouldn’t want to say – as part of his edgy persona, and I’m sorry to say I largely disregarded her concerns as I found his comedy relatable, especially what he had to say about parenting.
I could have googled it, but honestly I had no idea that it was anything more alarming than that. (I admittedly did find CK’s use of such language problematic, just not enough to abandon him.) Granted, I was well aware that masturbation made up as much of his comedy as it does my tweets, but the thought that he was the kind of malformed, inadequate person who needed to inflict himself on women by forcing them to watch? No way. It wouldn’t have occurred to me in a million years.
Except of course it should have occurred to me because less than a year earlier his F/X show Louie featured a scene wherein the comedian faced off against an anti-masturbation activist on a panel discussion show about the topic. Exasperated by her puritanical views, he tells her that masturbation keeps him sane, and enables him to be a good person. “I’m a good father,” he says. “I recycle and I masturbate. And I’m proud of it. And God’s happy.” All rational, salient points with which I certainly can’t find fault.
He continues: “And later I’m going to masturbate, and I’m going to think about you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Cue needle scratch. I get feeling threatened by someone who believes that something that makes you happy, that makes you you, is morally wrong. I get wanting to push back against them. But when you wag your dick in their face, literally or figuratively, that’s when I get off the bus.
Because is it me, or does telling someone something like that come off as assault? Not physical assault, obviously, but anyone who gives the subject any considerable thought must realize that lack of physical contact doesn’t preclude trauma. It’s not unlike the tweets I occasionally see wherein people call out kinksters for, say, performing an elaborate D/s routine on a crowded subway car; if you involve someone in your sex life who hasn’t consented to be a part of it, you are potentially doing harm to that person. And as opposed as I am to the anti-masturbation activist’s position that self-pleasure is harmful – and I recognize that she is a fictional character played by an actor – she didn’t deserve to be harmed. As CK said moments earlier, nobody gets hurt by masturbation. Which is ironic considering the amount of people Louie CK hurt by masturbation.
I’m at a point in my life where I am actively trying to do better. Not necessarily better than other people, just better than I was the day before, or in this case several years before. And part of doing better involves not making excuses for people who do shitty things.
Also, I should point out that the guest speaker to whom I refer in the second paragraph was wrong: Men sometimes have vaginas. Granted, I’ll wager that his ignorance stemmed less from willful transphobia and more from ignorance; it was 1993 or 1994, and though I don’t wish to speak for all cisgender people, I can say with complete candor that as a cisgender teenager who thought he knew everything about sex, I knew little if anything about what being transgender meant.
On a scale of 0 to 10, how satisfied are you with your sex life?
We wrote and scheduled this post on July 2nd. By the time it is published on July 13th, we will have been on a road trip with Jack’s parents for almost a week. We imagine that having them in close quarters for so long will be hell on our sex life, and would probably skew our answer. Therefore we are opting to write it now, in the comfort of our own home, and in the afterglow of really hot sex.
Rather than posting two separate answers to this question, we discussed it and discovered that our feelings are about the same. On a scale of 0 to 10, we both consider ourselves about an 8. Why not a ten? Well, we are realists. While it’s true that we are very satisfied with our sex life, we know that there is always room for improvement, and we strive constantly to do better.
Also, we can’t always have sex as often as we’d like. Various obligations including work and family interfere with our dreams of having sex twelve hours a day and sleeping the other twelve. If we could live that kind of life, that would take us up to 9.5 easily. But we really have little reason to complain. Our desires are regularly indulged, most of our (reasonable) fantasies are fulfilled, and we have pretty much everything we require to truly be sexually satisfied.
Still, there are always going to be new things we want to try, including toys, positions, locations, and people. To some extent these things act as motivation, and keep us wanting more. Thus we remain focused and not complacent. Sexually, we are always on the move.
Despite the joke I made above, I don’t know that anything would really elevate us above an 8. Our attitudes toward sex mean we’re always grounded in reality, and we realize that perfection is hardly ever achievable.
If you want to ask us anything, drop us a line on Formspring, or use the handy Formspring widget on the right-hand side of our blog. We like sexy questions! To see who else participated this week, visit Twitter and search for #FormspringFriday!
Behind the Scenes
I wrote this story in about twenty minutes on Wednesday evening. The prompt photo didn’t exactly speak to me; I found myself scrambling to come up with an idea as I didn’t think I would have an internet connection at all on Thursday. Even when the idea came to me I was convinced that it was the least unique idea imaginable. Still, I went with it. I note that it’s a bit unclear as to what exactly is occurring in my story, though that is due to the fact that the picture itself is unclear. Are they going to actually cannibalize the woman on the table? Or are they, as is stated in the final line, planning to perform cunnilingus on her? If so, what’s with the silverware?
Among the parameters for this week’s Flash Fiction Friday challenge was a word range of 145-149. I always find such a range particularly challenging; anyone can write a story that is 149 words or less, but it takes precision to write a story that must fall within such a tight bracket. Additionally, this week’s required word was “…insinuate…” Not “…insinuation…” or even “…insinuated…” Unlike most weeks, I remembered to include the required word, but found it very difficult to do so. The verbiage about diners and critics being “known to insinuate” was a direct result of the required tense; had the word been “…insinuated…” I could have gone with “diners and critics alike insinuated…”
I realize that the brick structure in the background of the photo is clearly a fireplace, but I chose to make it a pizza oven. Despite the fact that no restaurant that I know of has a pizza oven in a location other than the kitchen, but I thought it drove home the point that this is a very unusual restaurant, and not some sort of BDSM dungeon. Incidentally, “A Very Unusual Restaurant” was the original title of this story.
Deleted Scenes
Despite my story’s lack of substance, I found the 149-word maximum a bit limiting, and because of this I had to trim about fifteen words to make the limit. Additionally, while the story was still underway I pre-emptively excised the following passage in order to make room for the second paragraph containing the required word.
They stared at the empty oak tabletop, anticipating their feast. One of the women impatiently tapped her silverware against the surface. The service wasn’t slow; on the contrary, their waiter was very attentive. But their anticipation was great.
Soundtrack
As Billy Joel is one of her favorite artists, Jill will probably never forgive me for going with “Scenes From an Italian Restaurant”. It was the first song that came to mind.
Programming Note
We’ll be out of town next week, and may or may not have internet access. While I will make every effort to participate in Flash Fiction Friday on July 20, if we don’t it’s because we’re unable, not because we’ve in any way lost interest in the meme.
Jack says that my nipple qualifies for “Sharp” as well.
Go see who else is being naughty this week!
-Jill
Complete the sentences by filling in the blanks.
Jill’s Answers
1. I could spend all day _______ but couldn’t stand five minutes _______ .
getting a massage; around narrow-minded, prejudiced people.
2. I would love to have a robot in my house to do _______ because no one else ever does.
the laundry, sweeping, and vacuuming. These are the three chores that I always seem to get stuck doing for some reason, and I hate all of them. Jack needs to realize that all those blowjobs he’s been getting aren’t free.
3. The older I get the more _______ I get.*
unconcerned about other people’s opinions about me. When I was younger, I was embarrassed to act the way I wanted to. I was so hung up on living up to other people’s expectations that I didn’t think I could be silly and for lack of a better word carefree. I might let go a little bit in my classroom because I was working with children, but there was a huge difference between the way I behaved in a classroom and the way I behaved the second class was over. As I’ve gotten older I find that I have far less time to give the smallest shit about what anyone thinks of how I live my life, and having a baby has facilitated these feelings. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked into important meetings and other serious social functions with stickers stuck surreptitiously to my clothing. To some extent this attitude has extended to my sex life as well, though I can admit to being a bit concerned about how I’m perceived sexually due to the sensitive nature of my job.
4. I want to _______ when I _______ .
have an orgasm; have sex. It doesn’t have to be during penetration, though I don’t complain when it is. I just want to make sure that my needs aren’t forgotten about. Fortunately with Jack it isn’t an issue.
5. My appetite for _______ can never be satisfied.
potatoes. And by potatoes I mean sex. But I also mean potatoes.
Bonus: If I were a hoarder, I would hoard _______ .
thousand dollar bills and private jets. I would also hoard tropical islands with mansions and sexy, well-hung cabana boys with washboard abs. And gold. I would hoard gold in a series of underground gold mines under each of the islands.
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!