Abracadabra.

Recently one of the duties that has been passed on to me in my job is to give a cursory screening of some of the magazines we distribute to make sure that there isn’t anything in them that might be considered more than, as The Merry Prankster himself  (JK, to some of you) put it “a prurient interest in adult material.” (And, not being a porn aficionado, yes, he did have to explain to me exactly what that meant.)So, in perusing said magazines, I found myself contemplating the argument that is often used by the detractors of adult material, which is that it is somehow sexist and demeaning to women.

“I saw the comment below, and wanted to check in with you about it. My initial thought is to not publish it, and for me to contact the person. However, as it is your post, you might want to respond to them as well, or, you may even want to publish the comment and respond to them publicly. I’ll leave it up to you.

“Comment: I really hate when you blog. Your entries are always much too long and rambly, have nothing to do with sex positivity or anything educational. I miss all the old writers who actually knew what sex positivity was all about and also had a point.”

While my initial reaction to this comment was to agree with She of All Things GV Blog, that is, honestly, the diplomat in me talking.  I am in complete agreement with the idea of respectful dialog, and that in the end, fueling a fire of negative feedback usually does more harm than good.

However…

While I may be a lot of things – apparently long winded, rambly, ignorant and aimless being among them – I am also a philosopher and a writer (which sort of explains the long-winded, rambly, ignorant and aimless, I suppose).  As a philosopher, I adhere to the ideas of free thought and as a writer I uphold  the tenets of the first amendment. Free Speech, Without exception. 

And while I may not agree with what you say, I agree that you have the right to say it.

That being said…

I am not some egomaniacal hothouse flower that expects everyone to tell me how great I am every moment of every day (because that would be boring). I actively invite and welcome criticism and dialogue.  I DO, however,  have a litmus test that negative comments should ideally pass before qualifying as legitimate criticism. They are as follows:

1) Basis in objective fact
2) Following an objective pattern of reasoning.
3) Proof of failure to meet my stated objective.

Which brings me to the comment at hand.   Seperate the opinion from the elements of the comment intended to be criticism, and what we have is as follows:

1) “Your entries…have nothing to do with Sex Positivity or anything Educational”
2) “The old writers…actually knew what Sex Positvity was all about” and the implication that I do not.
3) “…And also had a point.”

Duly noted.  Subsequently responded:

1) and 2) What is Sex Positive?

While Wikipedia is not the standard repository for all knowledge and wisdom in the Universe, after checking in with my sources, they are in agreement that the following entry in Wiki is a pretty spot-on assessment of Sex Positive:

“The sex-positive movement is a loosely defined term that applies to a wide variety of elements that embrace social and philosophical attitudes promoting open sexuality with few limits.”

For those of you who have been following along since the beginning, in my first entry into the world of GV blogging, I stated the following:

“…there is no way for me to tell you what this blog is about. I can, however, tell you that… the thought that comes to mind is this: How do I apply my tendency to probe for the lofty and often hidden philosophical nature of things to something as visceral and raw as sexuality in its myriad forms of expression?” (Nov. 6, 2007)

Seems that there is a parallel or two between Wiki’s definition and my “Statement of Lack of Purpose” that suggest that I may in fact know a thing or three about Sex Positive – I just choose to explore it here in a different way. 

Which is, perhaps, why they invited me to do so in the first place…

3) and a little bit of 1) – Pointless Education

While I am in wholehearted agreement with my critic that there is absolutely no point to my writings, the lack of a point IS the objective.  As my above quote indicates, I very clearly stated from the beginning that my blogging has no point, plan or purpose.  My writings in general are a meandering, a wander through the Philosophy of Stuff.  In this specific case, Sex and Relationship and People Stuff. I do not write for the sake of drawing conclusions, I write for the sake of presenting ideas.  If I had a point, it would be a bit too much like telling a person what they should think, rather than suggesting a different way of thinking about things.

(The latter of which is pretty much the definition of Educate, by the way.)

So, while my thoughts may not meet my critics’ definition of Sex Positive Education…that does not necessarily mean they do not meet A definition of Sex Positive Education. And it certainly doesn’t mean that my thoughts are not keeping with the spirit that the other GV writers, past and current, embody -  respectful dialog about challenging accepted views to promote greater, unlimited understanding and expression, sexual or otherwise.

Or, in the vernacular - social evolution and individual growth.

So, while the comment offered fails the litmus test of criticism, it is an opinion, and everyone is entitled to them.  If in your opinion, my stream of thought style of purposeless writing does not appeal to you, its all good, you are neither the first or only person with that opinion.  Feel free to do what most of them do – ignore me.  There is LOADS of good stuff abounding here on the GV blogs check out.  And plenty of room for differing styles and opinions.
 
And while I consider myself truly complimented that my writing moves people to such a strong of an emotional reaction as hate, if your opinions on my musings distract from the ideals that GV is trying to promote, shoot me an email, and keep it off the list. We are all guests on the GV playground – let’s play nice.

My thanks to She of All Things GV Blog for giving me the chance to respond to this as I saw fit.  Most people who know me better wouldn’t. 

Cheers,

Harlequinn

Now, if I were to fill in the above blanks as it pertains to me, it would read something like this: “On the day that the IS was giving out brains, you ended up with a gelatinous lump of oddly-shaped, multicolored matter whose only discernable purpose seems to be to generate abstract and bizarre theories.”

Yep. That’s me. Humanoid Theory Machine.

In support of this self-assessment, I offer up the following as it occurred three nights ago. In order to do this, I have to take a moment to introduce you to Ken.

Ken is a close friend of mine who has something of a conisseuer’s appreciation for the Theory Generator. He is one of the people in this world who, if I were to inform him that I just spent last night playing poker with Bigfoot, the Chupacabra, the Loch Ness Monster, the Mothman and two Unicorns, would respond with “Draw or Texas Hold’em?”

He never wonders IF my mind works, he’s only wonders HOW.

This makes for prime theory generating conditions. That, and he has a hell of a wine collection – which also seems to contribute positively to my theory generation abilities.

Ken is a very good person. I, however, seem to be one of a very few people that seem to have this opinion.

Explanation forthcoming…

Three nights ago, over a glass of a Cab Sauvingion (St. Supery, if anyone is interested) we discussed the disparity of the reactions that people have to him and the ones that they have to me. You see, Ken and I have very similar outlooks on things, and share very similar views. We also have very similar personality traits. This being the case, it seems odd to me that people, generally speaking, seem to respond to me much more positively than they do to him. Whereas people tend to be engaged and and interested in things that I say, people tend to be far more dismissive of him when he says almost the exact same things.. I get called witty, intelligent, charismatic – he gets called cocky, arrogant and an asshole.

He offered up the observation that in his experience men are dismissed far more readily than women tend to be. By this he meant that a woman who displays an overt intelligence is less likely to be dismissed, whereas a man is more likely to be called an asshole. I responded with while men may be dismissed based on traits they display, often times a woman is dismissed simply for being a woman. In short, Men, when dismissed, are, generally speaking, done so actively, women, when dismissed, are done so passively.

This led to the following theory:

Ken is a white, and by all social standards, successful male. He has a good job in the IT field with a prestigious law firm that he both enjoys and is good at. I am not white, not male, and have a job in one of the most stigmatized industries there is. Despite our obvious differences, however, what we have in common is that we are both educated (a large portion of which is self-education), intelligent, confident and, most importantly, constantly striving to be the best people we can possibly be.

And herein lies the difference in how we are percieved. In a patriarchal society, Ken is at the top of the social heap. In a patriarchal society, I barely register as a person. As such, from society’s point of view, it is perfectly reasonable that I would want to strive to be the best person I could possibly be. In a patriachal society, this is defined as becoming, from a social perspective, more like a man. Any attempts to be a better person are, unconsciously, percieved as trying to achieve what is defined as the gold standard. In Ken’s case, however, any attempts to becoming a better person would be viewed, unconsciously, as trying to achieve a standard above gold. I am percieved as trying to better myself, he as trying to be better than everyone else.

In which case, the reactions that he experiences and the reactions that I experience make perfect sense.

Now, I am not what anyone would ever call a feminist. At least, not anyone who knows me. Nor am I what anyone would call race-centric. At least, not anyone who knows me. If anything, I am an egalitarian humanist. (Yes, I just made that up.) I believe that all people are equal simply by virtue of being. I say this so that my theory is not categorized as the ramblings of someone who feels that their potential for achievement has been limited by both men and/or “the man”. I don’t feel as if my potential has been limited in any way. In fact, from a certain point of view, if this theory is true, it has actually worked to a bit of a personal advantage. Starting off in a “lower social tier” just means more room to grow. That being said, however, if this theory proves to be less a theory an more of an on the money epiphany about the true definition of what it really means to live in a patriarchal society, then a whole lot else starts to make sense. It explains why after 100 years of campaigning for civil rights on both the race and gender fronts, society has still failed to make the same level of advances that it has made in other areas. It would also explain why this society is, in general, more accepting of homosexuality and transgenderism as it pertains to women than it is as it pertains to men.

I mean, think about it…women who wear pants, button down shirts and boxer shorts are not considered cross dressers. They are, generally, considered sexy. Men who wear skirts and lace panties are considered cross dressers and deeply disturbed. Women who have sexual relationships with other women are not blanketly described as lesbians. They are considered the stuff of masturbatory fantasies. Men who have sexual relationships with men are almost always labeled as gay and deeply disturbed. Would the subject of same-sex marriage really evoke as negative of an emotional reaction as it does from much of the general populace if “same sex” didn’t almost universally, though often unspokenly, imply “gay men”?

In short, in a patriarcal society, it is perfectly acceptable for a woman to want to be more what is traditionally defined as “male”, (within certain boundaries, of course. After all, some attempts at what society sees as being “more male”, are taken as parody. Anyone doubting this need only look at the running joke that the WNBA has sadly been turned into), but it is considered FAR from ok for a man to want to be more what is traditionally defined as “female”.

Now, I know that the fact that this inequality exists is no big revelation. Its is a commonly held belief that when the framers of our country said that all men are created equal, they meant all rich, white, land-owning men were created equal. But the truth is that I am not just talking about social inequality; I am talking about a belief so endemic to the American social psyche that it has become, at a fundamental level, the personification, the very identity of this country. It is the face that our society wears, and from this society’s point of view, anyone that does not wear that face is not a part of it. If society believes itself to be a white, straight, well to do, christian male, and that is all it is, was and ever will be, then how can it be gay, muslim, female, jewish, hispanic, black, transgender or anything else?

And while there may be a few people out there who are all fine and dandy with this, (who, granted, are probably nowhere near this website), that is probably because they don’t  (or, in some cases perhaps DO) realize that if there is no room for anything else, there is no room for improvement. For growth. For change.

There is no room to be more.

That, and along with this society being white, straight, well to do, christian and male, it is also, by and large, narrow-minded, insufficiently educated, paranoid, megalomaniacal, prejudiced, chauvanistic, judgemental, easily distracted and limiting of its own potential by its refusal to embrace diversity and change, preferring instead the single-minded pursuit of the static path of over-specialization.

The last species on this planet that was overspecialized and unable to adapt has been extinct for about 65 million years, give or take.

Now, believe it or not, this allllll brings me back to the reason why this post is Indifferently Gendered, Part Two

As you may recall, in that post I discussed the subject of lables and my belief that more options for gender identification do not solve the problems inherent to a binary gender identification system – it compounds them. This is because the real problem ISN’T a binary gender system; the definition of what constitutes a person, by sociey’s standards, is. And while labels may serve to in some small way treat the symptoms of this by bringing attention to the many ways people don’t fit this definition, they don’t cure the disease. You see, until society allows itself to wear different faces, to adapt to diversity and adopt a different definition of what it is, or better yet, no definition that extends beyond “human”, the labels you stick on people won’t matter a damn. A human may call themselves anything they want – male, female, transgender, gay, straight, other, black, arab – whatever, but as long as society defines itself has having one face, none of those labels will make a human a person.

So, if this is the case, and labels don’t solve the problem, what does?

In answer to that, let me share this with you:

Some years ago my father, with all the best intentions in the world, imparted unto me the following:

“The first two things that people are going to notice about you is your race and your gender.”

Now, while my response of ‘What’s your point’ may have been entirely inappropriate for a thirteen year old, it was not as much of a smartass comment as it, on the surface, may seem. It was my way of saying that those labels were of no importance to me whatsoever. They were not my problem.

The question is are the labels that people, including yourselves, apply to you your problem?

If the answer is no, then you have the cure to the disease. You know who you are, you are who you are, and the fact that people may not get who you are, and opt instead to interact with you based on the label they ascribe to you phases you not. It is what it is, and your proceed through life with a smile. You go, girl/boy/other.

If the answer is yes, if you need to use a label to identify yourself to others, then you also need that label to identify you to yourself. And if you that is how you have to identify yourself to yourself, then its a very good chance that you are, on some level, subscribing to the notion that society has one face – white, male, straight, well to do and christian, and your label amounts to little else beyond an apology to the world for being born unable to wear it. It is a scarlet letter, warning the world that you different – that you have been afflicted with the incurable disease of diversity, and you are sorry for it.

And seeing as diversity is the very thing that may save humanity from extinction, it seems to me nothing to be sorry about.

Despite all outward appearances, I am not hapring on labels, gender identification, male-female relations or any of that. The truth is that the Theory Generator in my head is, in addition to being prone to fixation, a means to a problem-solving end. And the problem it is continually working on is how to be a better person. In order to do that, it tends to take a good, long, hard (did I mention long?) look at the things that impede reaching that objective.

I wish that I could say I have nothing more to say on this, but you’d all see that for the lie it is. That is, however, not necessarily a bad thing, because by my way of thinking, as long as the problems persist, it is imperative that the dialogue does as well.

At least in theory.

Ok, well maybe not QUITE a bit of time, but a couple of years.

There are reasons for this, but I am sure you will figure that out by the end of this.

I state the above “No advice” disclaimer because what I am about to say next is going to sound suspiciously like advice. I assure you that it isn’t. It is, in fact, as far from advice as anything can get without arcing back around to becoming advice. Let’s call it the apogee of non-advice.

Ok?

That being said…

If at any point in time in the course of your relationship with another you find yourself in the position of wanting to either tell or be told that which is commonly referred to as “The Good Lie”, find a large, heavy and preferably stationary object to repeatedly bang your head against until such time as you return to your senses. It will hurt far less than “The Good Lie” generally does in the end.

For those of you not privy to the insidious entity that is “The Good Lie” of which I speak, I will explain.

“The Good Lie”, alternately referred to as “The Little White Lie” the “The Harmless Lie”, and the ever popular “I Didn’t Want to Hurt You Lie”, is a dubious creation of the human psyche that allows a person to rationalize the fact that they have no desire to deal with the potentially adverse consequences of honesty.

Firstly, I don’t think that honesty really HAS adverse consequences. It is generally the varied responses to honesty, which can be anger, resentment, fear, hatred, that make people think that give Honesty a bad rap. And a lot of times a “The Good Lie” is far more attractive than these reactions tend to be. However, considering that these reactions tend to be a result of some form of immaturity, lack of understanding or lack of desire to be mature and understanding, the absence of honesty removes the opportunity for growth. Sometimes growth, like truth, comes painfully, but so can a polio vaccine. Both, however, benefit the individual in the long run.

A “The Good Lie” rarely does.

Secondly, the problem with “The Good Lie” is that its effectiveness completely and totally relies on the other party’s willingness to not want to know the truth of a matter.
Truth, however, is by nature undeniable. And humans are by nature terribly curious. Both conditions are far from conducive to the shelf life of a “The Good Lie”, and eventually the desire to know, in most cases, wins out. So, upon revelation that “The Good Lie” is, indeed, a lie, the people involved not only have to deal with the emotional implosion/explosion that follows in the wake of the offending act or behavior that was lied about, but also the insult added to injury that “The Good Lie” often proves to be.

In short: “The Good Lie” never is.

I know that there are many out there who will argue that the occasional “The Good Lie” is ok, as long as it’s not about something that is REALLY important, that REALLY matters. And while that may be in some ways true, here is the litmus test on how to know when it really matters: in terms of a relationship, when there is another involved, IT ALWAYS REALLY FUCKING MATTERS. To dissenters believing otherwise, I offer the following: People are, at times, barely equipped to decide what matters to themselves, and believing oneself equipped to decide what matters to someone else is not only arrogant, but dismissive of the other person involved. Taking the approach that “IT ALWAYS REALLY FUCKING MATTERS” relieves one from the burden of trying to think for someone else.

More to the point, the entire premise of a relationship is being with someone whom you enjoy sharing things with. If you cannot honestly share your thoughts, your opinions and your feelings – the very things that make you who you are with that person, or have them shared with you, why be in the relationship in the first place? If the reasons for that relationship are Fear of Being Alone, Shared Financial Responsibilities, Great Sex,or anything OTHER than enjoyment sharing with that person, then you are better off getting a dog, a good financial planner and visiting GV and looking for something battery-operated to warm those chilly nights. Its a lot less messy that “The Good Lie” tends to be.

If none of you have figured out why I am single, my staunch refusal to engage in the practice of telling a “The Good Lie” is a good portion of the reason why. I have seen what havock a “The Good Lie” can wreak – I have lived it on more than one occasion, and nothing good has ever come of it. There is a better life out there than a lie of any stripe can generate, and the Idealist in me truly believes that people can have that better life. That people that I care for and love deserve more than a “The Good Lie”…they deserve a Good Life, and that I deserve the same.

I have, to date, completely failed to convince any of my previous or potential romantic partners of this, despite attempts otherwise.  Hence the unwaivering stance against giving relationship advice. The lack of overwhleming success in that department does not a ringing endorsement make.

But, on the other hand, it wasn’t honesty or my desire for A Good Life obliterated them…it was their desire for “The Good Lie” that did.

While all of this may sound suspiciously like I know what I am talking about, I don’t.  If  I did, it would be too much like dispensing wisdom, which is dangerously close to giving advice. And, as I stated previously I don’t do that.  All I do is call things like I see them.

Its not my fault if how I see things happens to be, purely by coincidence, exactly the way they are.

No Lie.

Nowhere on the GV site has made me more acutely aware of this fact than the Good Vibrations Sex and Gender Policy .Now if there are people who have not read that that are reading this now, you should. Now. And then come back here and finish reading this.I’ll wait…..

(This is not to say that I am sitting in my room listening to angst filled Emo music dragging razorblades across parts of my anatomy. Cutting is both disturbing and foolish, and if it is something that anyone out there is engaging in, stop it immediately and seek help. Please.)

No, what I mean by self-dissection is that I enjoy the process of rooting around my own psyche and examining what I find there. Its an orderly, methodical thing. Not that I am a big fan of order – quite the opposite. I am a big fan of extracting the order from a thing and breaking it down to its essential chaos.

Some people call this madness. I disagree, but I also digress.

Anyway, I enjoy self-dissection because I find it interesting to see what parts of me are nature and what parts are nurtured.

Case in point:

In examining my own feelings about sex and pornography recently, I found that the images that would leap immediately and irresistibly to mind were hairy chests, zodiac medallions and butterfly collars set to a cheesy 70’s disco soundtrack.

In a word: Dated.

This seemed a bit odd to me, especially considering that I like to think of myself as something of a progressive and forward thinking individual. The fact that something so basic to a human entity – sexuality, seemed to evoke such antiquated visuals in my own mind seemed incongruous to my perception of me.

In giving it further thought, it occurred to me that I was born at the tail end of what was arguably America’s first widespread sexual revolution of the mass communication era. In my naissance, the definition of sexuality had undergone a major overhaul from the Ozzie and Harriet, separate beds model that had been standard fare in the dawn of the TV era. America had burned the bra, embraced free love and had stripped away many of the last vestiges of the taboos inherent to pre-WWII western society. Sexuality, rather than having remained an entity separate and apart from American culture had become integral to it.

And just as the new definition of sexuality had become part of our culture, it had also become a part of me.

I am not entirely sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, the idea that our culture has now become something of a barometer for the evolution of our ideas on sexuality as a society seems like a good thing, but on the other hand, I would like to think that my ideas on sexuality have evolved organically from my own essential self. And while it could be said that culture provides a baseline to measure the organic ideas against, that also implies that there is a “normal” sort of sexuality, and that anything that deviates from that baseline is, by definition, deviant.

That doesn’t work for me either. After all, even if 260 million people in America were to agree that there is one specific definition of sexuality, and one acceptable means of expressing that definition, they could, and in all likelihood would, be wrong.

Yes, 250 million people could all be wrong about something.

That being the case, what if the sexual revolution spawned in the sixties and seventies wasn’t a revolution that 250 million people believed it to be? What if it wasn’t a revolution at all? What if it was an evolution? What if it wasn’t a redefinition of sexuality in our society and culture, but a rejection of the very idea that sexuality can be defined by or as a society or a culture or a religion or a marketing firm, or by anything other than and individual?

What if it was the embracing of the idea that all ideas about sexuality do and should evolve organically from the essential self?

Now THAT has possibilities…

Idealistic? Probably a bit. Many people are comfortable with the idea that sexuality has some parameters, and truth be told, there are probably some people that prefer that it does. However, in a definition of sexuality driven by the individual as opposed to the society or culture that the individual is part of, they are free to have those parameters. And other people are free to do otherwise.

In a society/culture driven sexuality, they aren’t.

I know which one I prefer.

So, while the mental imagery that thoughts of sexuality might reveal my notions of sexuality as being on some level dated, or at the very least old fashioned, it seems my ideas on freedom aren’t.

And that is most definitely the essential me.

J. Harlequinn: Retrosexual

^{Walking into the offices of General Video of America-Trans World News for the first time in April of 2007, I admit that it was with some reticence. Its location was not exactly ideal and its worn and weathered offices in no way rivaled the super sleek testaments of modern architecture that dominated the landscape a few blocks west. Having been a prospective candidate for employment at some of the highest profile companies in the Cleveland – businesses that were in the literal and geographical heart of the Northeast Ohio corporate body, it was a bit anticlimactic to find myself in what was, by all appearances, an aging artery.}

^{Did I mention I’d be working in porn?}

^{Not to say that I have an issue with pornography. I would be lying if I said I’d never seen one, but since to me they were about as interesting is watching paint dry, they really didn’t do anything for me. That, and, despite my generally progressive outlook, I’m a shy, old-fashioned girl at heart. To my way of thinking, sex is a personal matter, and there is something inherently unsettling to me about graphic and exhibitionist displays of it. Not to say it was wrong, only to say that it was, for me, a tad disconcerting.}

^{My temporary workspace was located the office where movies featuring every conceivable expression of legal sexual activity imaginable were reviewed for defects. Burying myself in my pile of spreadsheets, I tried to keep the sounds of overacted orgasms from burning their way into my psyche. Porn was uncomfortable. Bad acting was downright intolerable.}

^{However, after a few weeks of lessening tendency for averting my eyes from gratuitous displays of human genitalia and what some people choose to do with it, I was struck by a blazing epiphany. It dawned on me that the parade of pornography before me wasn’t a representation of someone’s idea of sex, it was a representation of someone’s idea of entertainment. Maybe not my idea, but it was someone’s. And, like any form of entertainment, it’s a distraction. Pornography is a form of entertainment that takes one of the most the visceral, most fundamental components hardwired into the human individual – sexuality – and displays it in a variety of scenarios designed to engage the full array of the senses. The fact that pornography has stirred controversy since its beginnings is a testament to its success in its ability to distract.}

^{This success, however, can also work to its detriment. The distraction is often convincing enough to create a pseudo-reality that is often far more appealing than the actual reality that some people live in. The result is distraction from the understanding that the emphasis in the phrase “Adult Entertainment” is not “adult”, but entertainment. And while the word “adult” should only carry with it the connotation that the type of material involved is not suitable for those not mature enough to understand the fictional or fantasy quality of it, it instead carries a stigma that evokes a fear of sexuality and its myriad forms of expression. It is this stigma that has given rise to Ohio’s Community Defense Act.}

^{For those of you who may not know, the Community Defense Act places statewide restrictions on the operation hours of adult businesses – clubs, bookstores, video stores, cabarets and any other venue that involves nudity or semi-nudity, forcing them to close at midnight. It also prohibits any touching in clubs, meaning no garter tipping, no lap dances, not even friendly hugs, else you are penalized with up to six months in jail and a $1000.00 fine. In Ohio, that is the exact same penalty imposed on you if you commit vehicular homicide. You are exempt from these provisions if you happen to be related to the adult performer – then its legal to touch them. Incestuous, perhaps, but legal.}

^{Call the Community Defense Act what you want – The Stripper Law, the Porn Bill, The Ill-conceived Brainchild of a Group Quasi-Religious Ultra Conservative Wackos. You can even take the CCV tact and call it an anti-crime bill rather than the piece of legislative crap it is, if you want. But, the truth is that the Community Defense Act is a restriction on the First Amendment -guaranteed right for people to choose how they wish to be entertained.}

^{Now, while playing the Constitutional card might seem to be the equivalent of using a Howitzer to swat a fly, it isn’t. The Community Defense Act is a reaction to the stigma of adult entertainment, not the reality of it. The stigma of porn is that it is immoral and unraveling the fabric of our society. The reality of porn is that it is as valid of a form entertainment and expression as football, soap operas and Star Wars. As such,, it is protected by the United States Constitution as surely and as equally as any other form of entertainment. The CDA strips away those protections like a dancer in a g-string.}

^{I had been working at GVA-TWN for about two months when news of the CDA hit. Reading the provisions of the bill, I felt the stirrings of revulsion building inside me. I had been familiar with the CCV, and with Phil Burress from my Miami University days, when he attempted to have The Robert Mapplethorpe photography exhibit at the Cincinnati Museum of Art shut down. Burress seemed to believe that homosexuality was the black plague of the 20th century, and that pornography is its means of transmission. His existence is offensive to me. He has all the mental stability of an earthquake and an agenda that wreaks as much havoc. The fact that he seems to be firmly ensconced in the political structure of Ohio is nothing short of alarming.}

^{In May of this year, the troops, consisting of GVA employees, several adult store and club owners in Ohio and the Buckeye Association of Club Executives (B.A.C.E.) were rallied, and the effort to bring some common sense back to the legislature began. Articles expounding on the negative impact the CDA would create appeared in every major newspaper in Ohio. Letters were written, calls were made, meetings were held, and despite every rational argument that was made against HB 16’s passage – the loss of jobs and tax revenue in an already severely depressed economy, the killing of any chance of Cleveland being able to leverage itself into a convention destination, and the basic principle of separation of church and state to name a few – it cleared both the house and senate hurdles to land squarely on Ted Strickland’s desk. It remained untouched and unsigned for the requisite ten days that would allow it to pass into law without the gubernatorial seal of approval.}

^{I told Rondee (Kamins) and Joel (Kaminsky), the CEO and COO of GVA-TWN, respectively, that I wanted to be involved with the campaign to get a referendum for the CDA on the November ballot. My passion about this issue had been stoked and I wanted something more constructive to do with it than despise Phil Burress from afar. I learned long ago that the Burress’ of the world cannot be argued or reasoned with. They are too deeply entrenched in their own malignant narcissism to consider that their problems, real or imagined, (in his case a “former” porn addiction) are their own. That, and in my idealism, I believe that while grassroots political activity may not be everyone’s idea of a good time, it is time well invested. It provides the opportunity to participate in the political process of our country. All the better if the activism is for as socially divisive an issue as sex can be. Deep down, however, I knew that this fight, for me, was not about activism. It wasn’t even about Phil Burress. It was about something that I believed in, though I could not have articulated at the time what that belief was.}

^{As the monumental task of gathering the nearly 250,000 signatures needed to put the referendum on the ballot (as opposed to the paltry 120,000 it took to get it to the legislature) wore on, I found myself combating an encroaching disillusionment over the widespread lack of understanding about what was at stake. Too many people too busy to listen, too frightened by sex, too eager to cling to comfortable apathy to give thought to what passage of this law would mean. The constitution guarantees certain rights, true, but democracy is a participatory state of government that relies on the people to help preserve it from threat, and the Community Defense Act is just such a threat. It erodes the cornerstones that our country is based on – majority rule, the right to vote, separation of church and state, the freedom of expression, the right to choose. The number of people that didn’t seem to comprehend or care was more frightening than pornography ever could be.}

^{But still I continued tying to impress upon anyone who would listen the importance of what was at stake for Ohio, for the country, if the Community Defense Act stood. The signs of exhaustion setting in hadn’t been enough incentive to slow down. No matter how many signatures I gathered, no matter how many extra hours I devoted to both this and my “daytime duties”, no matter how much sleep l lost, there was always more I needed to do. A friend of mine, a veteran in the activism arena, referred to this state as “activism overdrive” – The point where the drive to wage war overtakes the physical ability to fight. By her way describing it, it seemed akin to a state of Zen. To mine, it was a Belief.}

^{Belief in what?}

^{It was the first time I had asked myself this question. And with one day left before the second-round signatures were due to the Secretary of State’s office, I found myself blessed with a clarity that only three months of sleep-deprived insanity can inspire. This was not an obsession with the CDA, or with Phil Burress and the CCV. This belief was a quixotic and relentless devotion to one of the few ideas that I hold to be sacred and true about America and that which makes it truly great. I’m not talking about baseball, hot dogs, apple pie and Chevrolet. I mean the belief upon which America is founded, and that which I had not previously been able to name: Freedom. Our forefathers (and mothers) were the architects of it, our leaders swear to defend it and our soldiers and patriots fight and die to protect it. And while the CCV would argue that the CDA protects the greatness of America, their idea of America vastly differs from the Real America that I believe in.}

^{In the Real America that I believe in, people are free to express themselves as they choose, and are free to be entertained, or not, by those expressions. In the CCV’s America, people are free to be entertained by what the CCV defines as entertainment, and that freedom changes when their definition changes. In Real America, people are free to believe in whatever god or gods the wish, and there is a separation between religion and government. In their America, you are free to believe in their god, the way they believe in it, and the church IS the state. In Real America, the Constitution is a contract – an agreement and a sacred trust to uphold the Idea of America, to protect that Idea from the forces that seek to destroy it from without and within, and a detailed outline on how that idea can be protected and upheld. In their America, they strive to protect America at the expense of the freedoms that we are all guaranteed. In Real America, Freedom is the heart; in their America, it’s a cancer.}

^{I don’t like CCV’s America. In Real America, I am free to do that. In their America, I’m not.}

^{None of us are free.}

^{And the Community Defense Act is a chilling glimpse of an America without Freedom.}

^{“What it comes down to for me,” I said to Joel in a rare moment of conversation about the CDA crusade, “Is that yes, this is about protecting the company I work for, the jobs of the people that I work with, the right for people to think and decide for themselves and that’s important in the grander scheme. But for me, personally… I’m just not ready to accept that the Constitution no longer applies. I don’t want to believe that the heart of our country, the foundation of our society is irreparably broken. Because if it is…where does that leave us?”}

^{With all the Zen of a Jedi, (or as I like to call him Obi-Wan Kaminsky) the perpetual half-smile he almost always wears broadens slightly. “It’s always something”, he says. “This is a battle that we’re always, in some way or another, fighting. Today its this, tomorrow it will be something else. But what defines us as a company is the fact that when the time comes to stand up and fight, we fight.”}

^{For the next three days, I tried to think of something that sounded more quintessentially Real American, and failed miserably.}

^{Several weeks have passed, and at the time of this writing, the fate of the referendum to put the CDA on the ballot is still up in the air. More than one piece of information has surfaced to suggest that the fix was in long before we started down this path, and that the influence of religious conservatism on Ohio politics might run deeper than previously expected. Nothing has been decided, and so the fight continues. On the back deck of the building, I overhear Rondee, describing her recent experience at the Secretary of State’s office verifying petitions that were miscounted, vehemently proclaim “I am even more determined to fight now than I was before. I can handle losing, but now we are just being wronged, and I can’t take that!”, and can’t help but smile.}

^{GVA-TWN has proven to be a lot of the things that I expected when I first walked through its doors: interesting, challenging, unusual. It has also proven itself to be something that I had not even begun to imagine: a place that stands up not only for its people, but for THE People, our rights, and the freedoms that we are able to enjoy. And while a humble artery of NEOH corporate body may be its location, the heart Real America is its home. And I call my self fortunate to be one of the people that helps keep it beating.}

The “It” that my friend was referring to is this little corner of Good Vibrations cyberspace that is to be occupied by my bloggin’. The expression on her face gave every indication that a noncommittal shrug was not an appropriate response to the question.

For the record, writing is not something that I think about. It is just something that happens when I sit in front of my keyboard with a thought in my head. Seeing as I never know what thoughts are going to occupy my head at any given point in time, my friend’s question seems to indicate that there is some general expectation of a plan of some sort. So, if there is anyone out there reading this who shares her expectation, there is a fair amount of disappointment in your future. For me, writing and planning are mutually exclusive.

That being said…there is no way for me to tell you what this blog is about. I can, however, tell you that in pondering the question posed to me by my exasperated friend, the thought that comes to mind is this: How do I apply my tendency to probe for the lofty and often hidden philosophical nature of things to something as visceral and raw as sexuality in its myriad forms of expression?

What is the connection?

Well, there are many people out there who would say that there is none. They would argue that some higher being out there created humans to be pure of body and spirit, that we were not meant to sully ourselves with the stain of sexual congress for pleasure.

(Of course, this selfsame creator also made sex feel really exceedingly good [when done right], meaning that one of the following two statements is true: The creator/s is/are a/some sadistic f**k/s, or those people who believe that people aren’t meant to use their genitalia for recreational purposes are wrong. And, in a world where there are comic books, chocolate and the music of TOOL, sadistic creators seems the least likely of the two options.)

The truth is that I don’t KNOW what the connection between the spirit, subtle or soul self and the visceral sexual self is. What I do know, however, is that in a world where all things are at the deepest level connected, these things must also share a connection. Musing on what the specific nature of the connection could be sounds like fun.

At least it does to me.

Now, this is not to say that there won’t be other assorted musings here…I reiterate: there is no plan at work, and I have been told that I seem to have quite a lot to say about quite a lot. Some of it occasionally makes sense. What I am saying is that the writings herein are an off the cuff exploration into some things that seems worthy of exploration.

I invite you all to come along for the ride…

Harlequinn