Every Season of "In Bed With Susie Bright," 52 Episodes in 1 Audiobook!
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Betty Dodson wrote this letter to me today— grieving Albert Ellis, the revolutionary psychotherapist, who died last week at 93.
We have lost a great man.
David Hersh sent the Times article to me below. I want to share it with all of the sex educators and therapists on my list.
If we could all "Get Over Ourselves," it would be a far more glorious world...
During my difficult years of being scorned or laughed at for promoting masturbation, Albert was always a supporter of mine.He was the only sex therapist who gave my book, Sex for One, a positive statement back in '86. He said, 'Sex for One" proves once again that Betty is a pioneering and outstanding authority on masturbation. Read this remarkably honest and liberating book.'
I thanked Albert at the time, and I thank him again. I'll miss his brazen honesty.
Here's an excerpt from the "Sex, Love and the Scolding Psychotherapist," the NYT story by Mary Jo Murphy that Betty sent me:
ALBERT ELLIS, sometimes called the Lenny Bruce of psychotherapy, had a different use for the phallus from Freud’s: action, not analysis. Or, action! he might say, adding his favored punctuation mark and maybe italics, too, lest the emphasis remain undetected. Freud’s methods were simply too glacial for him.
Dr. Ellis, who died last week at 93, laid out his prescriptive calls to action in more than 75 books. Mostly the books deal with his pioneering and extremely popular and influential rational emotive behavior therapy, and how it can rid you of your neuroses (stop moping), but among them are a handful of sex manuals. Here’s a sampling from the Ellis oeuvre.
From How to Stubbornly Refuse to Make Yourself Miserable About Anything: Yes, Anything!:
Not all emotional disturbance stems from arrogant thinking. But most of it does. And when you demand that you must not have failings, you can also demand that you must not be neurotic. ...
Will insight into your emotional problems help you overcome them? ... Conventional insight will help you very little. For it says that your knowledge of exactly how you got disturbed will make you less neurotic. Drivel! It will often help make you become nuttier!
From How to Keep People From Pushing Your Buttons:
The second type of screwball thinking is called absolutist thinking, another 10-dollar term. ... Some of us walk around all day long getting on our own cases: “I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to do that. I should have said this to that person. I need to be more that. I ought to be more organized. I should be more attractive, intelligent, witty, popular and personable. I ought to be more assertive. I need to be less aggressive. I’ve got to speak up more. I really need to keep my mouth shut.” ... Some of us “should on ourselves” all day long!
From Is Objectivism a Religion?— in which he takes on Ayn Rand:
Objectivisim ceaselessly talks about the necessity of our accepting the facts of reality — that because A is A and existence exists, we’d better face these facts and live according to empirically observable happenings. In regard to life in general ... and to capitalism in particular, objectivism is just about as unrealistic and antiempirical as it can be. It remains in a world of “rational” fictions and it invents innumerable fantasies about capitalism and refuses to admit its fantasizing.
From The Art and Science of Love:
Where one mate has strong prejudices in favor or against certain sex practices, the other partner should try to be unusually understanding and uncritical, even if the practices that are favored or disfavored seem to be outlandish. If the presumably more reasonable mate will at least give the “outlandish” procedures an honest try, he or she may find that they are really not as bad as they seem to be.
Dr. Ellis aimed darts at Freud in much of his work. From Anger: How to Live With and Without It:
Changing your life involves your willingness to separate yourself from the childish concept that your parents still can make you act and think today. It also involves your attending to your present and future situations, not to your infantile ones.
This week on my audio show I talk with author and blogger Jessica Cutler.
Jessica was a bored, envelope-tossing, congressional staffer when the online sex diary she shared among her friends got some unexpected notoriety— and snared a few pious policy-makers in its revelations.
Jessica's short-lived blog, The Washingtonienne, turned into a "Who's Who" D.C. sex scandal, and got her canned— with fireworks.
Did she crawl away and hide under the bed, enroll in a 10-day rehab, issue a nondenial denial?
No— as Jessica quotes from her own father, she understood "you gotta paddle your own canoe."
In Bed with Susie Bright 302: Capitol Hill Sex with Jessica Cutler
Listen to our interview: LINK
Get a free month of my audio show: LINKRead the transcript of our chat at Zen Monkeys: LINK
Jessica and I talk about the hypocrisy of Capitol Hill's Christian conservatives, the difference between prostitution and getting paid for sex, and the best drugs for getting it on.
Then, in the "Try This at Home" mailbag, Susie responds to one woman's dream blowjob, in which small is beautiful.
Bill Wadman's photo of Jessica was taken a couple hours after our interview, on Coney Island, for his "365" Project of taking one portrait every day.
Don't forget, you can send your confidential questions, feedback about the show, and requests for girly cards to [email protected] (Episode 302, July 27, 2007)
I recently attended a potluck picnic of slow food gourmets and wine snobs.
We gathered around one particular potato dish which was causing a sensation, licking our fingertips and screaming for more.
When pressed for the recipe, the woman who brought the casserole burst into blushing tears. She begged our forgiveness, and then told us the secret of Mother-In-Law Potatoes:
Mother-In-Law Spuds
1 32-oz. package of Ore-Ida Frozen hash browns (Don't defrost them!)
1 c. cheddar cheese
1 c. jack cheese
1 stick butter, melted
1 carton sour cream
1 can cream-of-whatever soup
(Campbell's cream of chicken, mushroom, celery, etc.)
1 bag of potato chips
Place the frozen potatoes in a 9 x 13 baking pan. You can break it up, but don't defrost!
Put all the other ingredients in a bowl, except the chips, and mix them up. Pour and slather the mixture on top of the hash browns.
Crumble about two cups of chips on top.
Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 1 hour and 15 min.
It's soooooo yummy. And I'm sure we could figure out a "slow" alternative if we wanted to!
What's your favorite irresistible dairy/potato confection?
The Potato-Eaters, Van Gogh, Nuenen, April 1885
"Grow-Your-Own Viagra Craze Hits Britain's Garden Centres"
By David Randall at The Independent
"A chance discovery by a Berkshire allotment-holder that a plant widely available in garden centres has the same effect on men as Viagra has been confirmed by experts at one of the world's leading botanical institutions.
"The plant is winter-flowering heather, and botanists at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh, many of them heather experts who have recognised the source of its active ingredient, now expect it to be the next must-have plant in British gardens. Demand is already high. Nurseries and garden centres in some areas are having trouble finding sufficient supplies as word spreads of the plant's unexpected properties..."
Read all about it: LINK
This is all quite thrilling— but would someone get on it, and tell me how to grow my own Valtrex?
At the gateway to every internet sex site, we see the ubiquitous "underage" link:
"Are you under 18? Go away and click over here!"
Most of the links that porn sites offer for minors are a fop to satisfy legal nitpickers: "See, we sent the tots away to the Barney page."
They aren't in the business of sex education; it's all a cat and mouse game with the D.A.'s office. Joe Francis isn't doing community service at the unwed mother's home.
However, some porn webmasters are altruistic— they may have their minds on making money with "Beaver Hunt," but they'd like to do a good turn if they have the opportunity. They're the types who think, "Hmm... maybe a teenager really is looking for a place where they'll find age-appropriate discussion about their issues."
I notice that many sites "trying to do the right thing" in this fashion have suggested the excellent Scarleteen as a worthy alternative. You know their heart is in the right place; they gave it a second thought.
Well, stand back— there's a brand new Sex Ed referral site that has even MORE to offer.
This page is so good, that the resources it offers go way beyond beyond teenage Q&A.
After all, why should kids get all the good sex information? Adults in this country are starving for it!
Let me present:
That title cracks me up. But I'm not kidding you; the links here are The. Best. Free. Sex. Information. You'll. Find. Anywhere. It's better than the contents of most public libraries.
My favorite links include:
Breathtaking. Their site comes in English AND Spanish editions. If I was sixteen today, I'd apply to be on their editorial staff. Serious, funny, sex-positive feminist-kick ass youth with no apologies!
Who else is giving Transgender health info like this? And does flirting online count as cheating? There's plenty of 40-year-olds who'd like to know the answer to that one!
This is where I go when I get seriously stumped. Columbia U. Health Services started this service fourteen years ago, and they are always right on the money no matter how eclectic the request— Is there a graceful way to take off a condom? My girlfriend gags on oral sex! Is going from bisexual to straight a black hole? Inquiring minds want to know!
San Francisco Sex Information (SFSI):
SFSI is a telephone hot-line where anyone can call, whoever you are, whatever sexual topic is on your mind, and ask ANYTHING about sex. For free, and anonymously.
The number is (415) 989-SFSI, seven days a week.
I'm a veteran SFSI phone volunteer myself. Twenty-five years ago, I would have been one of the people who answered you call, and took you seriously.
As you can imagine, volunteers got a lot of heavy breathers and jokers who don't have anything to say... they just want a volunteer to say "breast," so they can ejaculate and hang up. Feh!
The great thing about SFSI is that despite all the bozos, it persists, because every day, someone sincere does call who needs help, information, a non-judgmental ear. I will never forget the people I helped on the phone at SFSI... this is a service that should be part of the federal Human Health and Resources Department.
Go ahead, recommend the GoodVibes youth page to all your friends under 18.
But speaking from my vast maturity, (COUGH) I'd save this page for myself, because it's simply the best sex info, for ANY age, that exists anywhere. Thank you, GoodVibes!
Photo: One of many fantastic downloadable posters at the Coalition for Positive Sexuality.
On this week's audio show, I make a big announcement: money can't buy you love— except in Illinois, where you can at least get damages.
An Chicago-suburb husband begged his wife to have sex with other men, so he could watch. At first she was nonplussed. Then, when his wife fell in love with the boytoy, hubbie successfully sued the man... under a quaint "alienation of affection" law, for $4,800. I'd love to know how they came up with that number.
The Marginal Revolution parses the tricky question of the matter:
"[The Husband] surely does not have a right to his wife's affection— he can't sue her if she doesn't love him— so if another man steals what Husband does not own, how can Husband have a claim against the other man?"
The main event in my episode of In Bed this week is my latest New York City interview, with the writer and sex blogger known as Chelsea Girl.
Chelsea and I discuss the nature of oral sex and "viscous porn-starry spit," scholarly interest in Victorian kink, what kind of dirty talk falls flat, and Chelsea's always-eloquent blog, Pretty Dumb Things.
She also explains to me how Howard Stern can get anyone to take their clothes off, despite their best intentions.
In Bed with Susie Bright 301: Sex Blogging with Chelsea Girl
Listen to the interview: LINKGet my audio show free for a month: LINK
Finally, in the "Try This at Home" mailbag, I ponder: How soon do you have to tell a new lover how many others you have in your bed?
Don't forget, you can send your confidential questions, feedback about the show, and requests for girly cards to [email protected] (Episode 301, July 20, 2007)
Strangely, I am not a Pott-head. But many of my family and friends are— and I'm traveling with them to a midnight bookstore party, tonight, to revel in the new book's release.
Whatever The Deathly Hallows has to offer, they can't possibly compete with the X-rated Potter Parody recorded by CassetteBoy, which I offer for your listening pleasure:
Now that you're in the mood, check out this fascinating story about Jim Dale, the man who really does all the voices for the Potter books.
Apparently his grandchildren attacked him bodily, and twisted his arms, to try to get him to spill the surprise ending; but he wouldn't crack.
Photo: Daniel Radcliffe in Equus
The Testosterone Files is a memoir by Max Wolf Valerio‚ who once upon a time was Anita Valerio. Max has always been a San Francisco poet and rule-spoiler, who— ironically— answers every difficult question straight women have ever asked about the men who bedevil, love, or lust after them.
One critic noted in Publisher's Weekly, this memoir "never elicits easy sentiment or empathy from the reader. It is, by intent and in delivery, a tough book."
I like it like that.
Max has been very kind to provide this except:
From "Saying Goodbye"
The Testosterone Files, by Max Valerio
I’m becoming a nonentity. I’ve discovered that lesbians hardly look at the men in their midst; I am invisible. A faintly outlined shroud misting the air, receding, vanishing as I become more and more a man. Other. Stranger. The weird guy in the dyke bar.
They’re picking up on the testosterone tuning my cells; it must be male pheromones, an unconscious attunement to my smell, which has changed. Some subtle yet profound shift in ambience. The mirror and the smoke in the air, bar music driveling on, I sit alone, surrounded by women on all sides.
I’m beginning to feel like a fox in a henhouse.
Wolf man with shackles on his feet
Moon-slurring man, angel with two halves, split
down the middle
One night, after being on testosterone for seven months, I walk into Francine’s. Hardly a soul looks at me. There’s an invisible barrier. A glass wall that feels stronger, more impenetrable each time I visit.
These women speak in another language, although they are moving their lips in a familiar way. I recognize the words, yet can’t quite grasp the meaning. An essential dimension has become hidden. The laughter, the gossip, the exchange of hellos and easy compliments, the camaraderie; I’m not understanding any of these conversations the way I did before.
Why do I still come here? Watching alone, waiting alone. Fascinated with the demise of my female identity. It’s like watching a part of myself die. Doesn’t anyone in this place remember who I was before? I came here often enough as Anita. Bored then, too—an outsider then as well, but not like this. Not with the glass wall.
I once thought of that woman there, the one wearing black engineer boots and a leather jacket, as “butch.” Was it her hair, shaved short on the sides and back, or her jacket? Was it the way she moves her hands, her walk, or her slightly stiff grin? What was I seeing when I was a dyke that made me think that woman was so butch? I stare, trying to solve this newly discovered puzzle. She looks as though she could lift a heavy motorcycle up from the street or lay some pipe in humid weather, walking catlike inside an underground tunnel.
Even so, suddenly, from this new perspective, she seems so much a woman, so female in her hips, her glowing fine skin and small features, her melodic, rich alto. Each time I come to Francine’s she looks increasingly curvaceous, a tiny bit more vulnerable, subtly infused with a conventional femininity. It’s eerie. She’s shifting shape as I do.
Continue reading "Max Valerio, on What You Know After Seven Months on Testosterone" »
