Susie Bright's Journal

Herpes Not So Confidential

Hi Everyone! My name is Susie; I have herpes— and you probably do too!

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Listen to the rest on Audible:Herpes Not So Confidential

Don't laugh! 

Okay, you can laugh, but this is no ordinary confession. HSV and HPF vie for being  the most popular STD in the world. There’s more people with herpes than all the other viral STDs combined.

In fact, after the common cold, herpes is THE most common virus a human being can have. 

You'd think a fact like this would make people treat it like a public health concern instead of some dreadful sexual secret.

But oh no!— there's so much profit and fear to be gained by keeping everyone in turmoil.

The fact is, herpes, like the common cold, can be passed through sexual contact, but that's the "sexual" extent of it! Sexual shame has demonized this virus beyond all scientific recognition.

I decided to devote my In Bed audio show to herpes this week, because I'm blown away by the number of my own friends, who I thought "knew better," have been suffering deeply with chronic outbreaks.

Herpes is not life threatening, it's as common as dirt— but it sure is a drag if you don’t know what you’re dealing with. 

Last week I talked to two old friends who broke down crying because their relationships have in part, fallen apart over this issue. I’m going to share with you what I told them:

Get Educated— and get treated. These two steps are going to remove virtually all of your herpes-related problems and your're going to kick yourself for having wasted ONE minute before you got wise.

My story today, is mostly for people who already know they have herpes, 'cause they've had the outward symptoms.

However, for those of you who are puzzled by all the fuss, here's the deal:

You can carry the virus for years and years without having an outbreak. You can be "shedding" it, that is to say, contagious, without noticing symptoms, because you either don't know what the sensations are, or you've never had an "attack" that aroused your suspicions.

Since we're all going to the doctor for one thing or another these days, ask your doctor for the specific herpes antibodies test. Then you'll know, and you can make a HUGE difference with that knowledge. If you haven’t been tested for the herpes virus, you don’t know if you have the antibodies or not. So don’t be smug. If you are sexually active, (i.e, not life-long celibate) find out. 

If you participate in sports with a lot of sweaty body contact, you're another likely candidate. Herpes is a big issue in the wrestling world-- and every playing field where athletes have frequent skin contact.

Notice, that the puritanical shame that envelops "sexy" herpes discussions does not infiltrate the sports arena! No one says, "How dare you didn't tell me you were a wrestler the first day we met. You slut!" The Olympics continue without being accused of depravity.  

I suppose the biggest myth about herpes, which I believed most of my life, was that  getting a "cold sore" on my mouth was just some childhood nuisance, but "herpes" was something you got from sex.

Nope. Herpes is an equal-opportunist. It spreads fairly easily; it's not like HIV.

There is no substantial difference between mouth and genital herpes, it’s the same family virus.

Some conservative in the medical PR Dept. gave lay people different names for the virus above the waist (Herpes Simplex 1) and below the waist (Herpes Simplex 2). But in terms of the scientific documentation, herpes is herpes. In fact, it's part of the same family of virus as chicken pox and shingles. You can get herpes anywhere on your body, not just on your genitals or face. 

Once you have the virus, it's a touchy little thing. Stress of all kinds can initiate painful and distressing herpes symptoms.

Sunburn can give you an outbreak.

Having a cold or any other illness.

An emotional upset.

More women than men have it. It's worse for women because our periods trigger it. You’re not dreaming, sweetheart, that HSV attacks like clockwork once a month!

The other nonsense about herpes, which everyone knows who's had more than a couple outbreaks, is that the whole thing is nothing but a skin lesion.

No Way! Some of the worst herpes symptoms are the flu-like symptoms. You ache all over, especially in your joints. Your glands swell up. You have a headache that's killing you. Your skin just "hurts." This is all before the famous "sore" even turns up.

You may have had intimate relations of any kind to be exposed to herpes, (just like a flu) but after that, herpes will be triggered by all manner of things.

Like most people coping with herpes, I tried every "natural" and "alternative" remedy there is to stop it.

PAY ATTN: There is NOTHING that universally stops the outbreaks, except one specific viral-suppressant drug, acyclovir, that is available only by prescription.

It makes me mad that con artists give people hope that snake oil will cure the virus, because it won't. 

The ONLY drugs that, without fail, foil herpes attacks are Famvir  and Valtrex.  Period. They're both forms of "acyclovir," the generic name. They don't eliminate the virus, but they stop it from getting into motion. They keep it dormant. 

That may sound like a disappointment, but it isn't.

By foiling the virus's action, you will feel herpes-free, for all practical purposes.

With generic acyclovir, you have to take it a couple times a day, and it's cheap. Valtrex is once a day and more expensive. They both should be over the counter, and free to anyone who needs them!

I used to take my pills every day because I din't want to ever have another outbreak. Ever. Again. The prophylactic effect was exactly what I wanted. 

Nowadays, I know my symptoms so well that the moment my arm or leg feels sore, if I'm out in the sun too long, if I get ONE sniffle, one scratchy throat moment, if I've stressed my body in any special way: BOOM. I take a pill. Virus is squelched! 

If you haven't tried these drugs, you are going to be floored when you do. They work the same on everyone, and are tolerated well by everyone.

You, too, will be like the happy people in the Valtrex ad, dancing all around as if they didn't have a care in the world. You are going to stop feeling like you are sick with the flu all the time.

Do you have a responsibility to tell your sex partners you have herpes? This is a red herring question. It implies sexual guilt and confession— that you're harboring a secret because of your promiscuous past. 

Start from this point instead: Assume everyone already has herpes. Assume that it could have been contracted any number of ways. You will be far closer to the truth than thinking you're something special.

If you're like most herpes sufferers, you're in a regular relationship, and your partner has it too.  Welcome to the world of HSV statistics. Married couples pass it back and forth, driving each other nuts until they discover they both need to be treated.

The question is, what have you done about it? What ARE you going to do about it? Does your lover know what's up with herpes and their own self-care?

I use condoms/safe sex precautions with new lovers whose health histories I'm not familiar with. Duh!

I'm use acyclovir regularly, and I have not had an outbreak since I started the drug.

When I feel the slightest of flu symptoms, I stop kissing people and start washing my hands. 

These actions are more critical than anything I could "say." 

With my behavioral precautions, it's virtually impossible that I could "give" someone herpes— it's been reduced to a theoretical rather than actual possibility.

So no, I don't "talk" about herpes the moment I get asked out on a date. It's more important to do the right thing than to wring your hands and "confess."

As you get to know a new lover, of course your history is going to come up— a variety of issues. Treat it as commonly and calmly as you would anything else. I know, easier said than done. Print out this story and start leafleting. 

This shouldn't be a one-man, one-woman, campaign. It's a political scandal that a PANDEMIC is treated like an individual failing.

Herpes info and treatment should be free.

Acyclovir should be OTC— you can't get high from it! LOL!

Doctors across the board should have up-to-date info on the virus. Herpes is still being treated like some nasty nymphomaniac disease that we’re all supposed to be shocked to discover. What baloney. The more people start speaking openly about it, the sooner we’ll have public health policy that addresses it with sanity. We need a vaccine, not an abstinence lecture.

I want to reach out to any of you who have herpes, or who have a lover/family member with herpes... don't keep suffering. Dry your tears!  Listen to my broadcast, check out my links above, get an appointment with a STD clinic or sex-positive doctor. Get your 'script and start the happy dance.

Note: Many links I've provided above are connected to HerpesDoctor.com, which I think has fantastic, comprehensive information for the layperson.

However, they also run "Google Adsense" ads on their site from all the phony herpes cure providers, which directly contradict the solid medical information they present! Ignore them.

 

Winston, Welcome to the Show

 
The eagle picks my eye
The worm he licks my bones
I feel so suicidal
Just like Dylan's Mr. Jones

Video of John Lennon on Mick Jagger's shortlived 60's British TV show, The Rolling Stones' Rock and Roll Circus. Performs scorching "Yer Blues" with Eric Clapton, Keith Richards, and Mitch Mitchell. Yoko puts a black sack over her head. Audience goes wild in yellow ponchos. Priceless.

5 min 14 sec, from Google Video

The Domme Who Packed It Up When W. Got Elected

L. Elise Bland is the author of "Every Good Boy Deserves Favors," one of my new stories in BAE 2006. She is also a self-identified "sadistic Southern Belle."  I suppose some would venture, "Is there any other kind?"

I loved her story of an fed-up piano teacher who has a recalcitrant student on the bench. After all, how many strangled covers of "Stairway to Heaven" can a person be expected to endure?

"Play," I ordered, ignoring his obvious erection. [Bent over], with his hands reaching awkwardly over the keyboard, Vito started the song:

"There's a lady who's sure..."

In no time, he missed a note. I swung my arm back and gave him a loud, stinging slap on the ass. A bright red hand print emerged on his butt cheek.

"Hey, that hurt!" he said.

"If it hurt so bad, then why do you have a boner?" I reached around him and stroked what I had pretended not to notice before. It felt slender, firm, and smooth.

He had such a nice cock— but he played the worst piano I had ever heard. He couldn't go one measure without faltering, and he had to be punished. For his many errors, Vito received an entire symphony's worth of smacks: fast, slow, loud, soft, dolce, andante, allegro, fortissimo, and, of course, conbrio. He rushed through the piece to escape my hand, but his haste only created more mistakes and more spanking...

Southern belles are supposed to be sweet as honey, but also manipulative charmers....  so is a "sadistic southern belle" more straight forward? What would Scarlett think?

I'm originally from Alabama, Deep South. I first called myself "Sadistic Southern Belle"  so when subs called me on the phone for an interview, they wouldn't mistake my charms and accent for weakness.

Southern women don’t put up with any nonsense and can definitely whoop some ass. Think: “Get out in the back yard and pick you out a switch. And make sure it’s a big one!”

And Southern women can be sneaky without even meaning to be. We are so polite that people often don’t really know what we are up to.

I don’t think about it so much since I’ve been this way all my life, but some people enjoy the stereotype.

"What would Scarlett think?" I think she would be proud that so many Dommes across the country have named themselves after her!

What perspective as a sex worker do you possess when you contemplate writing a sex scene?

I don’t have "sex" with my clients, although I have witnessed a gazillion orgasms and I’ve participated in many extreme activities.

What's inspired me most is the variety of sexual preferences and personalities that I have run across in the biz. I love when I find subs with interesting fetishes for starched white shirts or frying pans. That’s what gets me going.

I have also found that the more erotica I write, the better my verbal skills are when I play.

Your humor in your story is perhaps its irresistible quality... the exasperation of a teacher's dignity at the expense of a "lazy" schoolboy. What was your inspiration? Do you find your sense of humor is appreciated by your submissive clients, or do you have to put on a more serious face?

My inspiration for the piano story was partly my husband, because he is a pianist. I like my stories to be physically plausible, so while I was writing it, I put him in all sorts of positions over the piano bench to make sure the mechanics worked. He enjoyed it all until I started spanking him.

The other part of the inspiration was a Yankee Italian-American guy I met on a film set who just happened to look like my brother-in-law. We were extras in the film and my role was to lap dance for him.

I named the character after one of my high school friends, Vito, who runs a hot dog shop in Alabama and drives a Corvette.

I also have a sassy sub who plays piano. I have done many a session as “exasperated piano teacher” with him. I love to play teacher. I worked as a French and Italian language teacher for five years, so it comes naturally, reprimanding difficult students.

Some of my subs have not appreciated my sense of humor and that’s fine. I’ve always done what I wanted as far as play goes, even if it cut into my bottom line.

If a pro Domme tries to put on an act during a session, it usually becomes obvious to the subs and they aren’t going to come back anyway. “No fake players,” as they say. I am stern and brutal when I go into teacher mode, but can be very playful when the mood is right. I laugh a lot.

I mean, after all, watching a red butt bounce around is funny, especially if the guy is wearing frilly pink panties. Sexuality in and of itself is entertaining. It’s quirky and surprising. We don’t need to take it so seriously.

You wrote to me once about being  frustrated that you have "Republican clients who don't see what politics has to do with their sexuality." Why do you think that is? '

Oooh, don’t even get me started with this topic! Now things do get serious. I am very frustrated with the conservative politics right now, most recently with the affect it’s having on adult-oriented websites. I have taken down much of my pro website so I won’t be a target and, for all practical purposes, I am retired. I saw the conservative wave, or should I say Tsunami, coming about two or three years ago.

Little by little, liberties were slipping away. Sometimes the breeches in freedom have been blatant, and other times so subtle that no one can really point a finger. But it’s always there. I have survived in the sex industry because I have always worked off my gut, and my gut has told me to haul ass out of Dodge.  

I told my subs (most of whom are Republican) way back when that I might not be operating in a few years.

“You’ll always be around,” they said. “You’re too kinky to quit.”

I told them that yes, I would never go vanilla, but I would be so underground, they wouldn't’t be able to find me.

“It’s all behind closed doors, consenting adults,” they argue, but what they don’t understand is that there are no closed doors anymore. I quit taking new clients the day W. got re-elected in 2004. I cried when I posted my announcement on my website.

I wanted to protect myself, but as much as I love my subs, I had also gotten tired of spanking Republicans. I didn’t like that they could have their cake and eat it, too. I wanted them to understand that their vote counted—against sexual freedom. •

Note from SB:  If you are toying with the idea of buying Best American Erotica 2006, may I suggest that you plunge ahead? Get that perfect Valentine for yourself and everyone you've ever taken a shine to!

I'll tell you why timing is everything: the publisher looks at the first few weeks of a book's sales figures to judge its future. I want to keep this collection going and thriving— and sad to say, I can't rest on our laurels. (God, I'd love to literally lie on a bed of laurel leaves.... must look into that).

I've been coaxing you on the blog with excerpts from some of the new authors in this collection..  but it also features John Updike, David Sedaris, Tom Perrotta, Helen Walsh, and Lynn Freed. They're all brilliant, and I really hope you get a chance to read the whole thing and let me know what you think...

Hooked on Dirty Phonetics

Can your caterpillar say cunt?  Well, what are you waiting for?

Hurry on over to Amazon and pick up that hot new kiddie toy, the Alphabet Pal — it phonetically "sounds out" words as you press different letters of the alphabet.

Of course, the manufacturers anticipated our vulgar little minds. According to the painstaking research performed by Victoria at De Stilj, the caterpillar pull-toy will not voice any words that include the "-uck" of fuck and suck, or the any sound at all that  approximates shit. 

If you try to get it to pronounce a censored word, it giggles like a obsequious Catholic schoolgirl.

Still, the phonetic phun cannot be so easily nipped in the bud. Victoria got it to cry out all sorts of naughty things, including nearly every racial epithet she hurled at its keyboard. As with so many mainstream media products, it embraces violence and bigotry while maintaining a prim facade about s-e-x.

Tip o' the hat to Eric Albert!

Blogging My Ben Wa Blues Away

Welcome to my behind-the-scenes blog gossip for regular readers. If you're bored, go read Molly Ivin's column — a fabulous kick-in-the-ass for anyone to scream or steam over. I love her.

1. As some of you noticed, I turned on comment approval for the past couple days, which meant you couldn't see your comment published until I gave it my nod. Very annoying, I know, but I was being hit by a wave of trolls/spammers.

I will occasionally turn on the delay when we're getting flooded with troll-pies here, but I will turn it off when things die down. It's amazing how indifference drives them away.

1A. "Wow," you may ask, "What awful things did they say that I missed?"

They don't bear repeating. It would be like asking someone to fart one more time so they can clear the room.

Trolls tend to be mean, and specialize in personal insults.You couldn't imagine anyone saying this shit to your face unless they were plastered.

The spammers are either robots, or crazypeople hawking their jujubeads du jour.

2. I have posted on a comment policy on my right sidebar. Those of you who bother to read it are probably already the soul of courtesy, but I had to give it a go. If it inhibits one emerging bully or self-advertiser, it was worth it.

3. If you want to talk back to me about what I write here, I encourage you to comment on the blog. I get a lot of email from people who write me amazing things, and I wish  you would post it right here in the comments! You're good enough, you're smart enough, and doggone it, the editor likes you! Besides, lurking is boring. And I won't let the trolls bite you.

For example, I got about 50 emails about JT Leroy, and every single one of them would have been great reading for everyone here.

Sure, maybe it's hard to admit you got down on your knees to give JT a pedicure and the last of your coke— or fucked Savannah Knoops last summer and never told her you had herpes— but who cares? Use a pseudonym! This is a understanding group! And everyone has herpes!

Your comments elicit a good conversation, and I enjoy jumping in and sharing my reaction with everyone too. As it is, I haven't caught up answering all the emails individually, and I don't know if I can!

I partly started the blog  because I couldn't keep up with email. I'd have a hundred different people writing me about the exact same issue, ("My ben wa balls were screened in my vagina at the airport...")  and it seemed crazy to have them all be apart from each other, or sending out a form letter each time: "Dear Ben Wa Terrorism Victim..."

4. Thank you so much for all your donations to this blog. I so appreciate it.  Further more, I need them. Blog or Bust, baby. My dream this year is to cover my overhead and maybe earn one penny per hour for writing. It’s good to have goals!

4a. Also, you may not realize how darn cheap it is to advertise here. Your manifesto / product / life's-work deserves nothing less.

5. I'm closing down my old static site next month— the original susiebright.com I started in 1996!  It will still be available to stare and giggle at in the Wayback Machine, but it will be gone from the live web. I will transfer my domain name here, so everyone will land in the right place when they look for me.

I'm going to salvage and rewrite some of my favorite stories that I posted at my old site over the past ten years. —Like the FAQ, for instance, which is hilariously out of date. If there is anything over there you are concerned about losing, please let me know and I'll bring a copy of it over here.

6. Yes, I will be wearing overalls to read my Dworkin memorial at the SF Library. But nothing else. And thank you for all your suggestions, I have some really great material and I just hope they don't drag me off with a cane.

The Camwhore Chronicles

 I've been fuming ever since I read "Through His Webcam, a Boy Joins a Sordid Online World," Kurt Eichenwald's recent investigative piece in the New York Times:

Just the headline alone gives you a taste of what's to come, doesn't it? It's all about how an ace reporter rescued a Internet-scarred teen for his own noble motives! He doesn't quite fit the Upton Sinclair role model, though.

This is the subject of my newest In Bed audioshow,  #233.

At the top of Times' story, we view a sexy picture of the teenage subject, Justin, posing provocatively for his webcam. —This, in a story about child exploitation!

The last photo of the article shows James again, in choir robes, singing in his Christian choir, SAVED AT LAST.  You see, you can be born again—  all the effects of child abuse and homosexuality can be cured by prayer and a witness protection program.

(Note: my link to the story does not contain the photos, because I am NOT going to  perpetuate this shit).

As far as I'm concerned, the Times is another enabler and exploiter in the "sordid" story. At this point, they're the stinkiest part of it, since they're the only ones not copping either a plea or any responsibility! They've scared ignorant parents out of their wits about their kids using computers, and exploited their victim to sell papers. They should be ashamed of themselves.

If you read the whole saga, you'll find out some second-tier "details" that I find more telling than than the bandwidth connection. Justin's parents are terrifying examples of physical abuse, pimping, and neglect. The father beat his kid senseless into the hospital, and then disappeared for years. The mom "never knew" her son to have any friends, and had "no idea" why he went on long trips with strangers or hid in his room with his computer.

When Justin eventually found his father, and confessed that he was an online prostitute,  his dad decided to get in on the profits! None of this family picture is analyzed by our brave reporter. The reason the Times believes James went down the wrong path is because he had a fast DSL connection and one thing just led to another. Sure, his parents were awful, but he got great grades in school until  that computer made him turn bad!

We've seen these stories before, but this example is the worst. They've created fear and titillation instead of explaining how young people are put at risk for abuse and exploitation— cycles that can't be stopped by simply pulling a plug.

There are thousands of kids who suffer incest, beating, and profound neglect. 99% of them aren't on a web cam. No one gives a damn— the Times hasn't called in the calvary.

The extra sicko twist is that this story came out during the Christmas holidays. It was published right after the Times had been disgraced for the Judith Miller Credibility Gap. This was supposed to be their big uplifting redemption! "Sordid" doesn't even begin to describe it.

I'm proud that my teenager, and so many of her friends, know how to navigate the Internet. She is not at any more risk of being conned on the Web than she is taking the bus to school... in fact, I think our local bus system possibly has MORE trolls and predators than the internet.

Of course this confidence comes with knowledge and preparation... but that was a pleasure. I loved turning her onto computers the same way I loved reading to her when she was little. Her computer literacy is just another part of life now.

I like talking to her about music, movies, politics, and professors— the stuff that we found online yesterday, or the day before. It's one of the few things that young people get to do these days that makes them feel powerful and independent.

If you can teach your kid to "look both ways before you cross the street" you can do the same for them online. But it's not rules and cautions that makes the difference... it's who you are as a family.

Anyone can learn how to use an umbrella— or a filter— but you can't snap yourself out of an abusive home. The loneliness, desperation, and self-loathing this kid Justin lived with is indeed heartbreaking. If he hadn't "acted out" on his web cam, you can be sure he would self-destructed in one of the more old-fashioned ways.  But then... Mr. Eichenwald wouldn't have taken such a interest.

This coming year we are going to hear more than ever that online pornography is the most serious and profound problem the world faces. Witness the government's recent grab for Google's records in the name of investigating "child pornography" — cough, cough. They've rendered these words into nothing more than pulp novel manipulation.

Meanwhile, the ice caps melt, the war rages on, and kids all over the world are living in poverty, violence, and disgrace that boggles the imagination. Sexual ignorance is killing people. But "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" —There's a web cam on the loose! 

Let's name this con when we see it.

The CamWhore Chronicles

Aside my rant on this topic, in this In Bed episode, I also answer a letter from a young woman who wonders if she's one of those females who simply can't have an orgasm... and I read a gladdening story by a grandma who's bored to tears with her daughter's polyamory. If you've never heard my audio show, and would like a free coupon to listen, email me with the words "Golden Ticket" in the subject line, and I'll send you one right over.

Putting the Wow Back in Maoism

This is the inspirational photo of the year, and it's only January.

kennethinshanghai's photos, via BoingBoing.

MILF's Be Damned...

Kweli Walker is beyond MILF. Her story, "Drunkie's Surprise," is not for the lavender-tea set— unless they want it spiked. Ms. Walker may grow old and wear purple, but somehow I think feathers might be involved, and maybe a little coconut oil.

Put aside your preconceptions, and see what a way-older woman has to offer...not to mention her own discrimination's. Let me share a bit of her BAE 2006 story with you:

At fifty-something, Missy Jenkins decides to solicit the help of an older stripper to seduce handsome young drunks as they stagger away from The Chocolate Bar, a strip club across the street from her house.

Every day when she passed my place, Atlanta would yell over to my porch, "What you cookin'? Sho' smell good!"

I'd yell back, "Fried chicken!" or "Pork chops!" Or whatever I was cooking. We done like that for months until I got the idea to take her a plate and ask her 'bout all them fine young men that be comin’ to The Chocolate Bar.

When it got close to the time she came to work, I dished her up a platter of fried turkey thighs, potato salad, mustard greens, and two big fluffy scratch biscuits. When I handed it to her, I said, "I need to ax you some'n!"

She lifted up the foil and said, "Ax!" I told her what I needed and she told me how to get it. Later that night she brought a handsome little drunk over to my place.

Well, while he was passed out on my sofa, she asked me what I thought about him. I told her he was handsome, but I really like big men. She told me that she'd teach me how to come to the bar and pick the ones I like.

She said she picked a short man, 'cause short men try to make up for being short… in bed. When he come to, she went to work on him while I watched. When I got the hang of things, I jumped on in.

I was right in the middle of tryin' to give my first head job, when my teeth come loose and started to wobblin'.

Atlanta said, "You got false teeth?"

I nodded.

She said, "You need to pop 'em on out, girl. Don't be shame! This mutha fucka's drunk. He don't give a fuck what you look like. Try it with 'em out!" I spit 'em out and started sucking him like I saw Atlanta do.

"Un-unh! Missy, you goin' too slow! she said. "That'd be okay, if he wasn't so drunk.You got to suck fast and hard to get the blood down there, on a drunk."

So, I speeded up and Atlanta goes, "Awww, yeah, now you suckin' dick! See it's getting' hard again. He's almost cummin' too. You better stop while you can. When he get where he can talk, that's when you ax for your dick."

I go, "Just come right out and ask?"

"You better, or you can just keep suckin' until he cum in yo mouth. What do you get outta that?"

"What if he too drunk?"

"Sometimes that's even better. When they drunk like that, you just lay his ass out on the floor, get that dick hard as you can, and slap a cock ring on it, and ride it while you get yours."

"What do I do when I'm through?"

"Shit, wake that fool up and get him out your place. You don't want no strange man up in your house, while you sleep, do you?"

I shook my head.

"Then, you don't want him there when you wake up, either..."

Kweli Walker, excerpt from "Drunkie's Surprise," from Best American Erotica 2006.

Young people often have a hard time imagining their "parents" getting it on, let alone Grandma. How did you make the leap?

As I got to be Grandma's age and my libido didn't take the 'predicted' dive— and in fact strengthened— along with my sense of adventure, I figured, "Ha! Another fuckin' myth about women."

I know many women who are aging who have strong desire. In "Drunkie's Surprise," I wanted to playfully explore the adventure of an older woman who was confronted with an 'off the chain' libido.

You wrote an interesting side character, the stripper who found good marks for your horny heroine to make her moves on. Do you think women, in real life, do enough for each other to help find good sex?

Unfortunately, many women, because of religion and capitalism, highly restrict themselves to the idea of one mate/per woman. Capitalism doesn't lend to the idea of sharing.

Oddly enough, as the STD statistics display, many of us are sharing out of both panty legs, just in the least dignified and principled ways imaginable. Go figure.

What we really should be doing is first taking all our partners to be tested, and insisting on very real communication between all involved partners.

When women openly share quality men, as an alternative to traditional marriage, it cuts two apples with one knife --  everyone gets what they crave without so much friction of daily life. This gives everyone involved more time to pursue other aspects of their lives -- like writing books,  doing art, reading, social volunteering, research, exercise, etc. I am currently writing a novella called, Delah's Day, that explores the many advantages of principled mate-sharing.

Ten years ago, it was unthinkable for black women to write their erotica... Women confided to me that they'd love to do it, but they didn't want to shame their family and friends, or have a larger (white) audience  come to unwarranted conclusions about black women's sexuality. One writer said to me, "I'm already exoticized enough, just flippin' burgers."

It's a legitimate concern. Black women are often viewed in strictly sexual terms. I believe this is the vestiges of African enslavement where we were raped and bred on the whims of white men. When we were allowed to read, it was the Bible.

These two occurrences alone are responsible for many black women being deeply out of touch, and in the closet about our actual sexuality. It will be a long process to stop from seeing ourselves  as eternal whores or asexual saints, or as people who must prove to the dominant society that we aren't strictly sexual.  But the journey to our 'real' selves is soooo worthwhile.

I hope that as we (blacks) become more in touch with our actual sexualities, we will become more accepting of ourselves and the wide sexual diversity in the larger society — more experimental and less judgmental.

Kweli, your advice is well-taken by anyone... see ya at the Chocolate Bar, cher!

After Andrea

My introduction to this year’s Best American Erotica 2006 is a memorial piece, titled “After Andrea.” 

I'm referring, of course, to Andrea Dworkin, who died last year, leaving many mixed feelings behind her.

I'll be reading from Dworkin's work— yes, you read that right! — on Jan. 28th, at the San Francisco Public Library, at an event in homage to writers who died the past year:

Writers Remembered 2006
A Celebration of the Writers Who Died in 2005
January 28, 2006
1 - 4 PM
Koret Auditorium, Main Library

Dworkin and I had a history as political adversaries, the opposite ends of radical feminism. Still, I always thought we had some unique things in common. She had to be the only other person in the world besides me who would step off a plane in any country and say, “What does the pornography look like here?” We both found porn to be a prescient cultural lens.

When I looked at BAE this year, I wondered... how many of the authors in this story collection were directly influenced by AD? How many were inspired to 'roll their own' after sampling her wares? I looked at their names and saw that at least half of them must remember rather vividly being on the wrong end of the AD's firing squad.

I decided to ask all of them, "What— if anything— of Dworkin's influence made a difference with you?"

Sera Gamble: “The Clay Man”

Here’s the thing:  I don’t remember the days. AD's first book came out before I was born.  While you were facing the firing squad, I was teething.  I guess I have inherited your legacy.

For a time, I was “stripping my way through college,” as they say.   Most men were polite, the occasional man was rude – but the ones that really bugged me kept sitting me down and trying to explain to me that I was being exploited. 

Every couple of weeks some earnest guy would lay it out for me. I didn’t believe I was being exploited at all – I was setting my own hours, making decent money, and my boss supplied a giant dude who watched to make sure my physical boundaries weren’t violated. I felt like I was having a big adventure. 

I kept asking these men – where are you getting this? And they didn’t know where they got it.  They’d just heard this “theory of sex work” and done their part to assume it was gospel. 

Finally, in a Women’s Studies class, I read Dworkin.  I was like, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.  But obviously she wasn’t.  Those earnest guys?  They thought they’d help, maybe even educate me by spouting the “feminist” view to the confused young stripper.

I grew up not really understanding why older people, of my parents’ generation, were so dismissive of “feminists.”  I assumed they were struggling with the basic idea of gender equality, but what they were struggling with was this one loud woman’s view of things.

Dworkin represented so radical an opinion that most people could barely relate to it beyond feeling attacked.  But somehow she came to define the whole idea of feminism for many people.  Sadly, as often happens, the shrillest voice in the room got heard by the most people. 

My copy of Whores and Other Feminists is dog-eared.  I read as much of that “sex-positive” stuff as I could find – and then I started writing my point of view.  I got up on my own little soap-box and let loose: that all this victim-y talk was offensive to me, and that trying to “protect” women by limiting their sexual freedom was such a blindingly bad idea that the only truly shocking thing was that we were even still talking about it.

I’m older now, and I’ve climbed off the crate.  But I am still interested in these issues, still trying to figure out what feminism really is, what it means, if I even am a feminist, why it matters so much to me.

I guess this means that Dworkin had a whopping effect on me.  Sometimes the journey of a lifetime begins with one lady pissing you off.

 

Tom Perrotta: “Little Children: A Novel”

Andrea Dworkin gets a direct mention in "Little Children." My main character, Sarah, was a feminist in college, and wrote a paper called "The Normalization of Abuse: Patriarchy and Marital Rape" under the influence of Dworkin and McKinnon.

The irony is that, for all of her hard-line feminist training, Sarah finds that she still clings to certain romantic fantasies about love and sex that her college self would have laughed at.

I'm not sure Dworkin had much of a direct influence on me, even as someone to be challenged. If you were a straight man, it seemed like you had to basically give up sex to get on her good side. As with joining the priesthood, that seemed like a pretty high price to pay.

 

Stephen Elliott: “Bad Education”

You know, I don't think Dworkin affected me much. As a former sex worker I've always been pro-sex work, pro-pornographer, pro-prostitution. So I've been on the opposite end of her. I believe in freedom first, then ideas, then legislation.

 

Peggy Munson: “Fairgrounds”

I was fortunate to start writing erotica after the infamous pornography wars had died down, so the biggest influence on me was the explosion of erotica anthologies that fed my newfound desire to write smut. 

Would this explosion have happened without such a heated discussion about sex, what it is, what it means?  I did not have the visibility at that point to be on any end of a firing squad, but I loved watching the cultural shit go down -- like a really hot mud-wrestling match between tough-ass women.

I think any analysis of violence owes Dworkin, no matter how much people agree or disagree with the specifics of her argument.  I love that I have to  trouble myself about the dark sexuality and pseudo-violence in my work: to ask where it comes from, what it feeds on, what it feeds, if it's going to engender bad things. 

What I sincerely appreciate about Dworkin is that she never dropped the bullhorn about how heinous rape and sexual violence are, when our culture continually encourages a bystander syndrome about such things.

 

Vinnie Rose, aka Mr. Sleep:  “Beatings R Us”

Hahaha....you're kidding right? I do a site that's a paean to unrestrained degeneracy... what would you think I'd think of Dworkin? In response to her comment that every act of heterosexual sex is an act of rape, I usually said then as I say now: And...?

 

James Williams: “The End”

I found Dworkin's political stand offensive, threatening, and repellent. It's dangerous to women as well as to men, dangerous to free speech and free thought, dangerous to intimacy, dangerous to trust, dangerous to individual liberty, dangerous to creativity— dangerous, in fact, to the lives and well-being of me and nearly everyone I love, value, and respect.

I see a similarity between Dworkin's positions and those propounded by Janice Raymond in her infamous 1979 book The Transsexual Empire. Raymond was (is, I suppose) also an intelligent women who seemed to have been born on the wrong side of the bed and had it in for a whole population of people she neither agreed with nor made any serious effort to understand.

In her book, she asserted that transwomen were merely men who were so antifeminist and determined to take over women's lives that they were ready to sacrifice their genitalia to do so; that medical and psychological professionals who helped them were in on the conspiracy or abetting it; and that transmen were simply traitorous women.

Though some of her manifesto was justified by the infant state of transgender identity studies at the time (The Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association was formed the same year her book was published, and Benjamin's own seminal book The Transsexual Phenomenon had been published only a decade earlier), she retracted none of it when her book was reissued in the mid or late 1990s.

Both Raymond and Dworkin took some highly individual concern they could see expressed somewhere in society— and generalized so broadly  they ended up talking in cartoon terms about cartoon issues.

They became radical social fundamentalists and missed the moon for their self-interested fascination with the finger. In Patrick Laude's terms, they replaced "the awesome depths of the Mystery with a flat surface of barren forms," and found such fault with opinions that differed from theirs, that in excoriating tolerance and diversity they became self-idolators. By solidifying and identifying with their egos they became merely brutal fanatics.

Again, quoting Laude, "The enemy of fundamentalists is always 'outside,' never 'within,' which allows the soul to 'play God' and judge and destroy whatever resists its totalitarian reduction."

 

Gwen Masters: “15 Minutes”

I was first introduced to Andrea Dworkin's work about ten years ago, when I wrote an article on feminism in college. I was completely taken aback by her.

It took quite a bit of research to get past what was being said about her versus what she actually said. That was an education in and of itself, when I learned the depth of how words can be taken completely out of context, and how those with the power of the media can flip a story in whatever direction they please.

I came to respect Andrea Dworkin, even if I did not agree with her on many issues. I respected her for having the fortitude to stand up for what she believed in, even if it meant she would be vilified for it. I think she knew that was happening, weighed her options, and decided speaking out was more important than giving a damn about mudslinging.

By attacking her, her critics simply proved her points. How satisfying!

The best thing I took away from her work was this: It is more important to be relevant than to be popular. I try to remember that when it comes to my own work. Do I want to say something? Or do I just want to be popular? I've decided that I want to say something. And it is a harder road to walk, but it is a much more satisfying one.

 

Bianca James: “Paradise City”

Dworkin was before my time.  I came of age in the bay area reading books by people like Susie, or Carol Queen, in lieu of Dworkin. My first paid sex-writing job  was writing fiction for Barely Legal when I was twenty, thanks to  my mentor who'd held a job at Hustler in the early nineties. I never faced any resistance from my friends or family for doing it- even my mom thought it was funny.

 

Bob Vickery: “High Risk”

I’ve only had a nodding acquaintance with Dworkin’s writing. Her issues about the exploitation of women in pornography don't have much relevance to me as a writer of gay male erotica.

However, the relevance comes in when her issues of power imbalance in porn are given a wider context.

Before I first started writing erotica (in the early 1990's), I noticed that most of the gay stroke stories I read revolved around power imbalance (the cop and the criminal, the jailer and the prisoner, the sergeant and the raw recruit, the executive and the mail room clerk, etc.).

The common thread was one (weaker) character being coerced, physically or psychologically, into having sex with a more powerful character. Stories like that generally don’t do anything for me.

When I started writing my own stroke stories I set up scenes where the characters usually were pretty evenly matched; there may be tension in my stories, but there is never coercion. The characters enter into the sex for a variety of reasons, usually with gusto and enthusiasm, and in almost every instance, the power balance is evenly distributed (or, if not, at least it doesn’t become successfully exploited by the more powerful character).

I wrote a story once, "Driving," that of all my stories, most played with the issue of power imbalance. An out-of-work construction worker (I seem to have a thing for those guys) is forced to take a job as chauffeur to a wealthy older man. The older man tries to use his money and power to pressure the chauffeur into sex. The chauffeur refuses, quits his job, and later meets his ex-employer in a gay bar. Only when the two can meet on the chauffeur’s terms, where he’s riding in the back seat of the car issuing orders to the other man, will he let the situation become sexual.

 

Rachel Kramer Bussel: “The End”

I find it hilarious that I’m even answering this question. When I was a teenager, I’d certainly have given you a very, very different answer, from today. You can still find my name on the Andrea Dworkin supporters’ website—I did some coding or something for them when I was in college at UC-Berkeley in the mid-90's.

When I was growing up, I read a lot of Dworkin’s work and it made so much sense to me. I wanted to go back in time and be a 70's feminist.

On the other hand, I was just starting to come of age and hadn’t discovered sex or porn yet. When I did, it complicated things. I couldn’t see how you could live with the perpetual anger of an us-against-them mentality— meaning men versus women.

That being said, some of the things I learned from her and MacKinnon, the critique of privacy as a safe haven for women, the ways women are objectified across the board, were and are fascinating and important.

In the end, AD became a caricature of herself, in part because of her extreme divisiveness. There was never a sense of trying to form a common ground among feminists, which I think could have fostered a greater understanding of her work.

There’s a generation now of post-Dworkin feminists who’ve reclaimed so many arenas of sexuality, from burlesque to stripping to porn to erotic writing, and I’m honored to be a part of that.

 

Donna George Storey: “Ukiyo”

I’m forty-four now, which puts me at the end of the baby boom generation. I’m old enough to remember the excitement of “women’s liberation,” but not lucky enough to have been in the thick of it. 

I consider myself a feminist, but I always felt a little behind the curve. I picked up a copy of Dworkin’s Intercourse in Japan in the mid-eighties (which was probably stocked for English conversation study and I’m sure most of the guys who bought it were pretty disappointed!)

I remember being impressed at her boldness, although I did not agree with all of her points, as I was just learning to appreciate the enjoyable parts of intercourse.  Dworkin, Kate Millet, and Robin Morgan and all  the feminist writers who pushed the envelope gave the rest of us an exciting sense of possibility of what we could think and say.

The repressive anti-porn phase, where Dworkin climbed into bed with Moral Majority, was useful in a different way because it helped me to articulate, at least to myself, why I wanted to be part of an open dialogue on the erotic. 

I believe that the only way for women to become empowered sexually is for them to take an active role in creating the images and the fantasies that express our desires and experiences—that is, talking back to the traditional porn industry. 

The other day at a holiday party I was telling someone about my forthcoming story in Best American Erotica 2006 and he said, “Well, I hope you don’t get type-cast as an erotica writer.”  I was dumbstruck because this seems like such an outdated response.  The existence of BAE, going strong after more than a decade, is itself proof that erotica is taken seriously as literature. 

But to be realistic, I’m sure many more people out there still consider sex as unworthy of intelligent and serious (which can also be playful) attention.  I disagree, and that’s why a nerdy, voted most-likely-in-the-class-to-become-a-librarian, good girl like me feels inspired and compelled to write on sexual themes.  Whether Dworkin’s ghost would allow it or not, I believe any man or woman who “speaks the unspeakable” and tests taboos is carrying on the spirit of feminism.

Susie's Postscript:

I haven't actually decided WHAT to read at the library memorial event. Some of AD's poetry? Her fascinating stories about being mentored by Allen Ginsberg? Her super-violent, Sadeian passages from her novels?  I'm not looking to do something mean or comical; I want it to be incisive, and powerful. I'm looking for the double-edge. Add that to the fact that we only have three minutes each! Any of you close readers of AD who have a suggestion, let me know!

Open Your Mouth and Say What?

In Bed, Show 232

I'm back on the mike!— my first new audio show of 2006.

Have you seen the recent Business news-stories about Viagra taking a dive?  The reporters note that after years of steady growth, sales of Viagra and other erectile dysfunction drugs have leveled off.

I have a pet theory why such a popular drug would go flat: Given the opportunity to have "x" number of orgasms,  or to have sex a guaranteed number of times of week, with whatever floats their boat, people inevitably discover that their initial desire does not match what they really want. It's the "eyes are bigger than your stomach"  sensation.

Viagra has been flogged to men of all ages as if it was a necessity, dating insurance, the only way to have a sure-fire sex life, an instant party in a pill, etc.

Yet in real life, people found it didn't work that way. And it's not because it's a technical failure, it's because it doesn't take in account people's emotional relationship to their sexual desire, why they want sex in the first place.

Of course it's been wonderful for some men, with some partners, at some times in their lives, but the Pfizer hype has been much more than that. I've heard from so many people saying they have a bottle in their cabinet but they just don't find themselves using it as they thought they might.  One woman wrote me to ask how she could "make" her husband take his Viagra, and here's the thing: you can't. I don't care how many Superbowl ads the pharmco's take out.

What do you think?

I got some great letters in my New Year's mailbox, too. The first one is from a woman who says her boyfriend just won't open his mouth for anything - literally or figuratively. I offer my schemes on how to loosen his tongue...

Don't forget, you can send your confidential questions and feedback about the show to [email protected] If you've never heard the show before, or have a "virgin" friend, send me your email, and I'll send you a "golden ticket" that gives you two free programs or books. Just put "Golden Ticket" in the subject line...