Sex blogs: why bother?
So, some blogging bounder in Shanghai has raised the skirts of the local women and the ire of the local media. So, once more, sexblogging is in the news, and everyone's asking the important questions: Free speech? Censorship? Rights of anonymity? But they're leaving out the most important one: sexblogging - WHY?
I'd never heard of this "Sex and Shanghai" blogspot effort before today, nor of its writer and porktoganist Chinabounder, who according to an article by Jon Watts in this morning's paper, has somewhat gone to ground after threats and rumblings from "Chinese internet vigilantes" who vowed to have him expelled from the country, to castrate him, or worst of all, to have his blog taken down.
*****
No problem, though - I can always just go and pick another of the thousands upon thousands of sex blogs that seem to be girding their loins and penetrating the blogosphere; because let's face it, they all read the same. It's all "tensed muscles" this and "moist undercarriage" that: graphic details of the precise curl of some anonyknobber's merkin and five hundred variants on the concept of "sweaty".
*****
But even though I know these things in theory, in practice, the whole concept suddenly eludes me once more; why, in the name of all that is holy, would anyone want to write about their erstwhile activities in underwear (or more usually, without)? Why would I want to read about it? And how come they all seem like they're having better sex than me?
I know some sex bloggers - I've been to the pub with them, they're nice people and incredibly normal and yet, all the time, I sit there and look at them and know too much about them, and blush. The mystery is removed from the friendship, and I can do nothing but glow hotly, like a boiled plum (in the face). When you can list the foreign objects that have been inserted into the lunch companion you've only met briefly, twice, it's difficult to think about anything else. It's like hearing the phrase "follow through" on a first date; it's not insurmountable, but it doesn't half put you off.
Yes, all right, you like having sex. Yes all right, you like to write about it, and you like to have other people comment on that fact. Surely there are some qualms about the right to anonymity of your partners, but we can leave that to another day, should you wish...
And I understand your point: other personal bloggers choose to write about tube trains and cats and cheese sandwiches; why shouldn't you write about your own - and I apologise for this in advance - rides, pussies and yes, the contents of your very own lunchbox? Especially, and this must be said, especially when, for a bunch of geeks, you all seem to have rather unbounded sexual proclivities.
Perhaps that's it. Perhaps I just can't stand to read because I'm jealous. I'm jealous that a growing community of bloggers want to stand on a table, face the world and shout "Look at me! I've got a stiffy!". I just don't know what I'm supposed to say in return, except perhaps "Well, good for you."
The best answer I can give for this question is ..an old joke.
Let me know if you've heard this one...well, I'm telling it anyway.
A priest is sitting in the confessional when he hears someone enter. He goes through the ritual to hear the confession, and he hears an old man's voice say, "Father, last night I went out to a club, and I hit on this woman young enough to be my granddaughter. I took her home, got her naked, and we had mad, passionate, insane, crazy, hot and heavy, sweaty grunt sex. I banged her blue. I made her scream over and over until she collapsed from exhaustion. Then, when she woke up this morning, I did it to her again."
The priest says, "Well, my son, fornication is a grave sin, so say five Our Fathers, ten Hail Marys..."
The old man in the confessional says, "DOn't bother, Father. I'm Jewish."
"You're not even Catholic? Then why are you here? Why are you telling me this?"
The old man says, "I'm not just telling you, Father, I'm telling everyone!"
Why blog about sex? Why do dogs lick their balls? Because they can. (Sorry, last old joke. Promise.)
Simply put, people have the urge to blog about sex because they feel proud of their ability to do so. Whether it's about their fantasies or their real sex lives, or what makes them rant and rave about the Holy Terrors' War On Whoopie, blogging about sex is blogging about power, to some extent.
Sex itself is about power. By that, I mean that it's empowering. Seducing someone demonstrates power. Turning someone on is a form of power. Making someone cum is a form of power. And being able to write about sex is powerful, as well. Even if it's from the relative anonymity of the blogosphere. It sounds like Ms. Pickard is exactly right in her opinion that maybe she's jealous of the people who have the courage or fortitude to strut their stuff and say, "I'm getting some, and I'm not just telling Father Aloysius, I'm telling everyone!"
I suppose blogs are the perfect place to brag, anyway. It's not as if you can talk at the church social or the company retreat about how last weekend you fisted some woman you'd known for all of thirty minutes while her husband did your wife doggie style not three feet away.
All I can say to Ms. Pickard and others who don't care for all the sex blogs out there is....if you don't like 'em, don't read 'em.