I was asked to write this column because my editor knows I watch a lot
Please note, however, that my hardcopy porn collection is neither a
measure of my hoarding tendencies, nor a Y2K-reminiscent preparatory
measure for whenever the government finally passes a bill that kills my
freedom to watch pretty, naked women on the internet.
Rather, this growing porn collection is the result of my writing for the
sociological perspective-oriented site, Porn Valley Vantage.
Over at PVV, which was started by a sociologist/feminist/social justice
advocate/former professor of mine (who happened to be the “hot”
professor from my college years—it was, I believe, the only course where
I never missed a class), I review pornographic films and take pains to
connect the actions depicted on-screen to the wider socio-cultural
Okay, so I write about the sex, too, but the focus is always on what
these pornos say about our culture at large. What I’m learning is that,
like everything else in life when examined too closely, porn is fucking
complicated. Simplicity is for gazing at flowers as you pass them on
your way to other affairs; Botany is an activity unto itself. Before I
began to write for PVV, pornography was just an engaging visual I took
in from time to time and enjoyed rather obtusely.
But now I can deconstruct porn like a champ.
What this has led to, the fact that I am now often interrupted
mid-session by thoughts running the gamut from “*Did she take drama
classes in high school? I’m curious if she ever thought she’d end up
naked on a billiards table jamming an Eight-ball up there on camera…*”
to: “*I wonder what she thinks about the idea of a pornographic actors’
union?*”, is in many ways the logically extreme outgrowth of a lifelong
tendency to over analyze mundane and trivial aspects of life. I once
told an ex-lover about this cognitive habit and she responded by asking,
“What’s something you over analyze other than comic books?”
“What’ve you got?” I said.
“What about… brushing your teeth?”
She cocked her head as she asked this, confident I wouldn’t have an
asininely overwrought response to such a seemingly innocuous daily
“Always before I eat. Or no less than an hour after eating—never
immediately after a meal because the residual, acidic, oral build-up can
be incredibly damaging when combined with the bristles of a toothbrush.”
She laughed and then I think we might have had sex.
I remember our conversation almost verbatim but not whether or not we
had sex afterwards—that’s just the kind of person I happen to be.
And I recognize from a certain point of view it is lame that I devote
such a large amount of thought to such a routine act. But in another
light, *dental hygiene is important as hell*. Cavities are expensive and
I’ve got a terrible gag reflex/crippling fear of dental practitioners.
The medium I’ve found that makes me happy is going back and forth
between these two extremes. Some days I’m the kind of person whose oral
hygiene is fastidiously practiced, and other times I’m the guy who wakes
up in an unfamiliar city and uses a mouthful of generic-brand cola as
mouthwash in the parking lot of 7-11 to get rid of the taste of stale
And that’s the attitude I want to bring to the world of Austin-based sex
columns: flux and open-minded adaptation.
Though I will admit the fact that I now become distracted mid-porn has
been something of a hassle. Pre-PVV porn was the one masturbatory
bastion over which I still truly held dominion. Even before I was over
analyzing my pornography I was always apt to become distracted
mid-session. There has always been the spank-bank, of course, which has
some fantastic memories, but some of these are too emotionally costly to
dredge up from such sticky, murky depths for cheap, short-lived, instant
gratification. Sometimes I try to modify memories from real life and mix
them with slight elements of fantasy but that usually just ends up
After that comes the realm of pure-fantasy, but for me to truly get off
in this manner I have to set aside a pretty fair amount of time so that
I can vividly set up the scene I want to play out. Being trained in and
obsessed with narrative formats, this oftentimes gets pretty complex
story-line wise, but almost always comes to involve my fantasy-self
approaching the person whom I happen to be lusting after and attempting
to seduce them in a way that I imagine to be realistic but also kind of
badass and Han Solo-esque.
I say “attempting” because even in my head it only works
sixty-five-or-so-percent of the time (an absolutely un-Solo-esque
As best as I can figure, this stems from my desire to have sexual
partners who amount to more than living blow-up dolls. I don’t want to
fuck an object; I want to have sex *with* someone. What I think I get
off on, more than any physical sensation, is the idea that someone, for
a moment in time, desires engaging in a shared, intimate relationship
with me in the same way I happen to be desiring them at the moment;
things become different and (depending on your viewpoint) ultimately
more meaningful in a long-term relationship, but typically more
complicated as well. But regardless of the specific circumstances, for
me to truly enjoy sex, even in my head, I simply cannot get around the
fact that there’s no way to get someone to have sex with me in
absolutely every situation without fail. In regular life, even during
the times when I am feeling solid and fully confident in my
self-supposed sexual prowess, there are instances when it just simply
will not happen, no matter how I try and swing it, and I think this is
what is reflected in my false-start sexual fantasies. When it becomes
clear that I’ve hit this masturbatory wall after several minutes of
trying, I pull a “Dirty Cartridge Reset” and, much the same way I’d blow
on the inside of Nintendo cartridges as a child so that I could enjoy my
playtime after a failed attempt, I clear everything out and start over.
Luckily, water is allocated at our apartment complex.
But surely I’m not the only one who wastes water from time to time in
this city. I called City Hall but was unable to obtain an estimate on
how many gallons of water are wasted in this city each year by people
having sex in the shower, or people who aren’t having as much sex as
they like getting on by themselves in the shower.
Austin, as anyone who is between adolescence and forty (I think that’s
when people become real-life grownups and stop having casual sex at
night clubs and bars and stuff, right?) knows, is a city that is sexual
as all hell. With a higher than average population of university
students, horny, underemployed hipsters (and the hippies… can’t forget
the hippies), sexual partners are often separated by surprisingly few
And there remains much to explore in regards to this city’s sexuality.
Are there orgy-consortiums which meet in town at regular intervals? If
so, *invite me*. I’m not particularly into group sex, but I am
interested as hell to see how it works. Are there caterers and food
platters? Naked bartenders? Is it couples-only, or are singles allowed
but herded into the corner to watch creepily from the sidelines? Are
there secret glory holes in the W hotel? Are there groups of people who
like to meet up and talk about having sex with cars? Cats, perhaps? Are
there readers out there who try to breed mammals and reptiles together
to form some unholy breed of lukewarm-blooded chimeras?
I don’t know the answers to these questions, but these are the kinds of
things I want to learn about. I’m sure some more conventional
sex-related topics will arise along the way, but surely at some point
you’re going to encounter something which you’d define as perverse,
because what is the baseline standard for somebody else’s sexual
preference isn’t always going to be socially normative.
I want to learn about sex in this fair capitol city of ours because
everyone’s doing it, or at least thinking about it in some shape or
another, even if only in the hopes of rejecting it. Sex, from
evolutionary biology, macro and micro-level sociological understandings,
anthropological, and personal viewpoints is something which is deeply
important and vital to our understanding of our humanity. And if that’s
the case then damn, we should be discussing it openly and honestly, no
matter how weird it might seem at first…
That being said, I want to make sure you don’t think I’m taking this too
seriously, because sometimes sex *is* hilarious. Like when animals do
it, for instance. Videos of giant tortoises mate-humping? *They never
get old*. Those tortoises are moving so slow but trying so damn hard.
Sometimes the females just continue to eat while the males enter them
because why the hell not?
With that I’m going to end because I have just become aware that I am
Google-searching for “Animal Humping Videos” in the middle of a crowded
coffee shop. And no one should be that person.