From The May-June edition of ERWA

ALL WORKED UP ABOUT ORWELL
By J.T. Benjamin
Copr. 2006

Back in 1984, appropriately enough, I read George
Orwell’s anti-utopian science fiction novel “1984” for
a political science class. In class, we discussed
whether the novel, (published in 1948), described a
possible future society under Communist rule, under
Nazi or possibly British socialism, and even whether
Orwell was describing then-contemporary post World War
II Great Britain.

Who knew the novel would be describing the Bush
Administration’s plans for governing the United
States?

In case you haven’t read the novel, or if you have and
have successfully blotted out the memory, “1984”
paints a bleak, depressing picture of the future.
England is ruled by a worldwide totalitarian regime.
Many of Orwell’s descriptions of English life under
the single ruling party, dubbed “Big Brother,” have
eerie parallels to contemporary U.S. life.

Orwell foretold the 24-7 electronic surveillance of
citizens, modern torture and brainwashing techniques,
perpetual war against ethereal enemies, governmental
control of mass media, massive uber-patriotic
propaganda campaigns, and attempts to stifle dissent
by altering the very language through the concepts of
“doublespeak” and “newspeak.”

Orwell also coined the term, “sexcrime.” I’m not
referring to bona fide and properly prosecuted sex
crimes such as rape and child molestation. In the
appendix to his book, Orwell provides his own
definition of the term.

“(The party member’s) sexual life, for example, was
entirely regulated by the two Newspeak words sexcrime
(sexual immorality) and goodsex (chastity). Sexcrime
covered all sexual misdeeds whatever. It covered
fornication, adultery, homosexuality, and other
perversions, and, in addition, normal intercourse
practised for its own sake. …He knew what was meant by
goodsex -- that is to say, normal intercourse between
man and wife, for the sole purpose of begetting
children, and without physical pleasure on the part of
the woman: all else was sexcrime.”

The novel’s hero, Winston Smith, is a minor
functionary in the ruling party. Not surprisingly,
following his dick leads Winston to his downfall. He
meets and falls in love with Julia, another minor
party member. Julia is an unashamedly promiscuous
woman who commits “sexcrimes” (that is, she sleeps
around), as a form of protest against the
establishment. After the first time Winston and Julia
hook up, Orwell writes, “Their embrace had been a
battle, the climax a victory. It was a blow struck
against the party. It was a political act.”

Over the course of their affair, Winston and Julia
begin acting rebellious in other ways, including
reading prohibited materials. Eventually, the two are
caught, tortured, brainwashed, and ultimately betrayed
by each other.

Why do I bring this up?

Because it’s not hard to see eerie parallels between
Orwell’s definition of “sexcrimes” and the Bush
Administration’s modern-day “War On Whoopie.”

If you’re a regular reader of this column, (and if you
aren’t, why the hell not?), you’re aware that the
Christian Right, through their designated puppet, the
Bush Administration, have been trying to shut down
pornography, profanity, sex toys, sex education, a
woman’s right to choose, birth control, gay marriage,
homosexuality in general, and to otherwise in every
way, shape or form take the “WOO-HOO, That was FUN!”
out of sex. If the sex isn’t specifically between
married people, and for the specific purpose of
bearing children, the Christian Right, (whom I’ve
dubbed the Holy Terrors), want to shut it down.

So picture a future in which the Holy Terrors win.

“John, shall we engage in marital intercourse after
dinner?”

“Afraid not, Marsha. The permits haven’t come back
from the Department of Homeland Fertility yet.”

“But I’m ovulating, John. And don’t tell anybody, but
I’m really, really horny.”

“Then we’d definitely better not do anything, Marsha.
The last time you exceeded your orgasm quota, we had
to pay a fine.”

If this sounds far-fetched, while you’re in the
bookstore, picking up a copy of “1984,” buy “The
Scarlet Letter” by Nathaniel Hawthorne for a picture
of religious views toward sexuality in the U.S. not so
long ago. And while you’re at it, you’d better grab
some books by Henry Miller, D.H. Lawrence, Stendahl,
Henry James, Anais Nin, Susie Bright, Maxim
Jakobowski, and as many other erotic writers, old and
new, as you can find, because if the Holy Terrors have
their way, you won’t be able to find them anymore.

Imagine living in a society with no photos,
literature, movies, or music that could in any way be
considered erotic or appealing to the prurient
interests. No colorful language. No provocative
outfits. No v-necked blouses showing off cleavage, or
tight blue jeans accentuating a firm ass. Drab
clothes, drab art, drab words, drab literature.
Homosexuals are “out of sight, out of mind.” They’re
imprisoned, brainwashed, or worse. Sex is a chore. A
burden. If the act doesn’t result in conception, it’s
a failure. People don’t hook up because of love or
even sexual attraction, but for their mutual ability
to produce offspring. If you’re infertile, maybe
you’re just treated as second-class citizens. Maybe
you’re in the same place as the homosexuals. And yes,
all intercourse must be within the bonds of matrimony.
And all of this is rigidly enforced and overseen by a
pseudo-benevolent loving government. The Powers That
Be dictate with whom we have sex, when we have sex,
and how we have sex.

In other words, it’s a society a lot like that of
Orwell’s “1984.”

Will the Holy Terrors succeed in their War on Whoopie?


Of course not.

In the first place, sex is everywhere. Of course,
it’s always been everywhere, but these days it’s
positively moved into the mainstream. Porn is chic.
Jenna Jameson has a best-selling autobiography. Porn
stars make reality shows and documentaries. Writers
of erotica are cult figures in the literary world.
Thanks to the internet, anyone can get any access to
any sexually oriented material he or she wants
anywhere, anytime. Porn isn’t just in the mainstream;
it’s on the cutting edge. Barely ten minutes after
Apple introduced its new video Ipod, porn video
distributors announced they would make clips available
for the new device.

As far as sexual preferences are concerned, gays can
marry in Massachusetts, Canada, and an ever-growing
number of European countries. For every anti-fun
statute that is passed in a “red” state, a pro-fun
measure passes in a “blue” state.

Trying to curb peoples’ urges to make whoopee is like
trying to stop a breach in a flooded levee with
sponges and “Brawny” paper towels. (Bad, tasteless,
insensitive joke there. I humbly apologize to the
citizens of Hurricane Katrina-devastated New Orleans,
Louisiana, and to the heroic efforts of those trying
to repair the damage to that great city’s levees with
government-issue sponges and “Brawny” paper towels).

For all their bluster and busy activity, the Holy
Terrors don’t realize their War on Whoopie is already
lost. Which leads me to the second reason why their
failure is a foregone conclusion.

They’re just not smart enough to pull it off.

That’s not to say the Holy Terrors don’t have power.
That’s not to say they can’t make life miserable for
the rest of us. That’s not to say they won’t make
every effort to drag us, kicking and screaming, back
to the Middle Ages or, more likely, forward into
George Orwell’s dark vision of the future.

Which is why, fellow fun-loving freaks, we must resist
the tyranny of our would-be oppressors! We must stand
up (or lie down, as the case may be) for our right to
spread our legs, drop our drawers, break out the
whips, nipple clamps and candlewax and have dirty,
kinky, twisted, sweaty carnal knowledge with our
fellow consenting adults in any way and every way,
shape or form. We must not just watch porn for its
own sake, we must do so as an expression of freedom of
speech. When we’re punishing a very bad, bad person,
we’re not just spanking a bare bottom, we’re also
striking a blow for personal liberty. With a leather
paddle, to boot.

They say politics makes strange bedfellows. I’ll show
you some strange bedfellows.

Come on, Baby. Let’s go on up to my place and we’ll
stick it to The Man.