Today's been a real bummer for me, internetwise. It started with punkass marc providing a horrifying glimpse into the world of rape porn and, really, it may as well have stopped there, because, well, RAPE PORN: What more do you need to bum you out after that?
Nevertheless I endeavored to bum myself further by reading three nauseating thumbs-up reviews of a new television show called, I'm not kidding, "Ugly Betty" (starring the totally not ugly actress America Ferrera)--the "plucky guppy" label was a particularly nice touch from the NYT. Fucking brilliant.
I did perk up briefly while reading Twisty's review of Bust magazine, but I bummed back out again minutes later when I was struck by the likelihood that this post would set off another round of "but it's my choice to enjoy fashion, fucking, and shopping" versus "but no choice is so sacrosanct as to be exempt from feminist analysis" feuds throughout the feminist blogosphere, and that likelihood weighed in at somewhere around "extremely fucking likely;" whereas I assert that if we can't agree that an ostensibly feminist magazine sporting an ad for a $13.95 tampon case is "extremely fucking silly," then we can't agree on anything.
Of course the rape-porn post was clearly the worst of it all. I'm just saying none of the rest of this stuff exactly helped.
So I tried to cheer myself up by thinking of other songs William Shatner should cover, because that seemed to me the most natural thing to do in a crisis. Listen, we've all heard his versions of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," "Mr. Tambourine Man," and "Rocket Man," but those songs are o-l-d. It's time for some fresh rhymes from MC Shatner. I think he should consider spoken-word versions of "This is How We Do It," "Golddigger," and, most necessarily, Madonna's "Borderline." Come on--you can hear it, can't you? Can't you?
Feels like I'm going . . . to lose . . . my MIND!
Pushing . . . my LOVE
Right? It's not just me, right? Tell me it's not just me.
And the other thing that cheered me up was thinking of phrases and concepts that should be banished from porn (or erotica, if you prefer, but me personally, I kind of consider it all porn, which is not necessarily bad) forever. Like, for example, the whole "good to the last drop" theme: Every woman who ever sucks a dick in pornotica always has to be described as swallowing every last drop, like heaven forbid they don't explicitly state this, and we get the mistaken idea she might have discreetly spit some into a Dixie cup to save for a rainy day, right? Just once I'd like to see a woman not be described as sucking dick Maxwell-House style, even though there's no way to have her not do that that wouldn't wind up killing the mood. But it'd still be worth it to me to just once be surprised, you know? Seriously, how often are you ever surprised in porn? Never! It's always the same. It's all porn-by-the-numbers.
So that's where I've kept my head at today in order to prevent me thinking about the kinds of dudes who pay money for rape porn: Shatner, and porn. Well, 1 out of 2 ain't bad.