Cohen notes that men still have control over the sexual attitudes of the country, as "the mostly male-run film and television industries, as well as the profit-driven medical and pharmaceutical establishment, can aggressively promote their own self-interested standards of beauty, sexiness and normality." Firmly in control of the images and "breakthroughs" coming out of both Hollywood and the pharmaceutical industry, men are able to project a male-centric view of female sexuality on viewers and consumers, who then internalize such messages to the point where, as Cohen points out, women are so painfully aware of their perceived "flaws" and sexual inadequacies that they go so far as to schedule "vaginal rejuvenation" surgeries in order to ensure that their genitals are up to speed with the genitals of their peers.

Women's views on the aging process, and all that comes with it, is also somewhat controlled by men, Cohen argues, as "normal signs of the passing years are erased, so that anyone over 35 still has a whipped-cream complexion and an ice-cream-stick figure. Because viewers are so unaccustomed to seeing faithful renditions of older women, when they do appear, people assume that the characters are older than they really are." Photoshop, digital "enhancing," and the notion that every woman should look 25 or younger to please men, is a running theme with older actresses in Hollywood—not so for older men, as Cohen notes, with May-December couples like Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal being matched up as romantic leads.

It's a frustrating piece in that everything Cohen writes is painfully true, and yet nothing entirely surprising. As Cohen herself notes, men have been attempting to "cure" such things as "female hysteria" and even menopause from an outsider's perspective for years, trying to make excuses or diagnostic criteria for the changes women go through as they age, physically, emotionally, and sexy. It isn't hard to look around and see Cohen's piece in action: with a pop-culture landscape filled with overblown Victoria's Secret fashion shows, television programs about "cougars," and endless commercials on how to stay sexy via "age-reversing" technology, it's clear that women are still being bombarded with the message that they must stay young and obtain the sexual skills of a porn star in order to remain desirable in today's society.
It is a message that is hard to dismiss, as years and years of such imagery has led to the internalization of the "male view," and it's going to be nearly impossible to drown those messages out until women finally, finally get a chance to take control of how that imagery is being created.

From 'Vibrator' To 'Cougar Town', Sex Is Still A Man's World [NYTimes]

Roy may be a recovering sex addict (he cops to "compulsively looking at Internet porn, Internet hookup sites, phone sex, multiple Internet identities on sites such as Adam 4 Adam, intrigue with straight men, flirtation, oral sex with straight-identified men, manipulation, and lying"), but he's also an engaging writer, and he seems winkingly aware of the LOLworthiness of his entire piece. As a director, he says he was initially uncomfortable being the "talent" on Sex Rehab, or, as he puts it, "the meat in this particular pie." Dr. Drew, meet Sweeney Todd.

While Drew may not be a demon barber, he is, according to Roy, pretty much a charlatan. Roy writes,

It was immediately apparent that while Drew may be an astounding drug and alcohol specialist, he knows very little, or anything, about the precise science of sex addiction. More disturbingly, he does not believe in God, which is a fundamental prerequisite to any 12-step program. (He admitted to me that he is an atheist.)

Drew apparently simply parroted the "thoughts and insights" of sex therapist Jill Vermeire, whose breasts, Roy notes, "fit snugly in duchess satin shifts." Unlike Roy, I don't begrudge Drew his atheism, but since the good doctor has been a main culprit behind the ridiculous proliferation of narcissism trend pieces, I was pretty gratified to read that "it comes as no surprise that Drew writes about narcissism because he genuinely wrestles with his own."

Some of Roy's revelations, while sordid, aren't particularly surprising. He writes,

First, I found out that all of the women on the show-Jennie Ketcham (the porn star), Nicole Narain (the Playboy playmate), Amber Smith (the model), Kari Ann Peniche (the former beauty queen), and Kendra Jade (the former porn actress)-had been wrangled and represented by a man named David Weintraub. He turns out to be a reptilian creature feeding off of the demi-fame of people like Sean Stewart, Rod's wayward son, who had been on a season of Celebrity Rehab.

And:

The Weintraub revelation shook me because I understood with sickening clarity that the women might not be on the show for the same reasons as I was. That they might not have any desire for sexual sobriety. That I might be part of a huge pantomime.

And, most hilariously:

The other disturbing fact was that James Lovett, a professional surfer, had been paid a huge amount of money to wear named products. Hence he wore socks on his hands and odd shoes, as every logo he wore would be logged and for that he would be reimbursed.

You mean ... reality shows are often masterminded by unsavory characters, and their casts often include women who have made careers out of being hot? And some of these women might appear on the show to acquire fame and notoriety, and not out of a genuine desire for self-improvement? What's the world coming to? Still, one aspect of Roy's article seems like nothing short of a miracle: as a result of the show, he actually got better. After a breakthrough in therapy, Roy found that he "could make different sexual choices in the future, ones that did not include recreating situations I had suffered with my stepfather when I was a child." The only obstacle, of course, was his newfound reality-show fame. Roy writes that "in Trader Joe's, people smile knowingly" and that "only yesterday, a gorgeous, straight 25-year-old man came right up to me and offered to give me the sexual equivalent of an 8-ball" (what exactly would that be?).

Roy's essay discusses two diagnoses du jour — narcissism and sex addiction. It also seems to illustrate two sides of Roy's personality — the serious patient disgusted at becoming reality-TV "meat," and the man comfortable enough with fame to write a Daily Beast article about it. Roy says his persona on Sex Rehab was that of "12-step anthropologist," but he might have more in common with the average reality show viewer — or, perhaps, the slightly self-conscious reality show viewer who tells himself he's watching "ironically." On the one hand, Roy disdains everything about Sex Rehab, from Dr. Drew to his fellow contestant with the socks on his hands. On the other, he clearly got something out the experience. Like our Self-Conscious Reality Show Viewer, he got a feeling of superiority. Of course, he also got something else that the Viewer can't really hope to achieve: healing. Despite Roy's claim that "we helped a few" ordinary people with the show, it's safe to say that when we watch reality TV, the best we can really hope for mental-health-wise is to break even.

Image via VH1.

Is Dr. Drew A Phony? [Daily Beast]

According to CNN's Ivan Watson, Palestinian cousins Nadir Mohammed Saleh and Ahmed Fayiz Abed Rabo suffer from male pseudohermaphrodism, meaning they appeared outwardly female from birth to puberty but actually had malformed male sex organs in their abdomens. At puberty, they began to look more like boys, making social life difficult. Nadir's father says, "They used to travel by car to girls' school and back. Because of their facial hair, it was difficult for them to go out into the street. Psychologically they were distressed." So both decided to begin living as boys.

Male pseudohermaphrodism is so common on the Gaza Strip — perhaps due to widespread cousin marriage — that their family already had a name for the process: "the transfer." Now they want sex change operations so they can have male sex organs, which they need in order to change their Palestinian identity card to "male" and gain access to higher education opportunities. Of course, the fact that said opportunities are (apparently) restricted to men with male sex organs speaks to an idea of gender division — and gender hierarchy — that makes little sense when we understand how complicated human sex and gender really are. And if Caster Semenya's ordeal is any indication, the rest of the world is no better at this than Palestine.

But new research might further this understanding somewhat. Scientists have found that switching off just a single gene in adult female mice causes their ovary cells to change into testosterone-producing cells like those in male testes. The cells couldn't produce sperm, but researcher Robin Lovell-Badge says, "If it is possible to make these changes in adult humans, it may eventually remove the need for surgery in gender-reassignment treatment." He notes that, "If this does become possible, it's likely that while treated individuals would make the right hormones for their new sex, fertility would be lost."

The study also has implications for how we think about human sex, since the gene in question is present in all mammals. Steve Connor of the Independent writes,

One of the great dogmas of biology is that gender is fixed from birth, determined by the inheritance of certain genes on the X and Y sex chromosomes. [...] The findings suggest that being male or female is not a permanently fixed state but something that has to be continually maintained in the adult body by the constant interaction of genes to keep the status quo – and the gender war – from slipping in favour of the opposite sex.

As Rebecca Boyle of PopSci points out, scientists don't yet have a corresponding way to transform female cells into male cells. And the research is too nascent to materially help Nadir and Ahmed, who are appealing to the international community for help obtaining the sex change surgery that's not available in Gaza. But advances in sex research may help demolish the notion that human sex is a simple either-or matter (it may even be environmentally influenced: stressed pregnant women are more likely to spontaneously miscarry male fetuses). And this might make the lives of people like Nadir and Ahmed — and Caster Semenya — a lot less distressing.

Rare Gender Identity Defect Hits Gaza Families [CNN]
From Minnie To Mickey (And All They Did Was Turn Off A Gene) [Independent]
Switching A Gene In Adult Mice Easily Transforms Females Into Males [PopSci]
Girls On Top [The Economist]

National Porn Sunday is run by the oddly-named XXX Church, whose website states,

Porn Sunday seeks to drive the conversation about pornography into our churches, families and lives. This weekend service brings healing to those sitting in churches who are caught up in pornography.

For Leon, it brings easy targets. When a "large, highly repressed woman with glasses in matching tweed suit jacket and skirt" points him to her husband's "testimony" about losing interest in her due to porn, Leon reflects, "How surprising. Who would have thought that her husband would become sexually disinterested in this piece of work?" And here's how he says he chatted with "a large, smiley manly man:"

"Today's sermon was, how do I say it, powerful!" I exclaim. "I could tell you firsthand how porn has affected my life.

"Has it been something you've been struggling with," the manly man asks, making creepy eye-contact that shifts as I explain my faux porn addiction.

"Yes," I say, licking my dry lips, explaining that I was addicted to gay porn, most specifically photos of men in the outdoors doing very compromising things. His creepy eye-contact becomes stronger. I wave his brochure. "Yeah, I'll have to check out this Men's Prayer retreat. (Pause.) We'll be camping, right?"

Is that you, Bruno? But mock-the-Christians free-for-all aside, Porn Sunday does appear to have taught Leon some disturbing things about XXX Church's anti-porn crusade. In Dirty Little Secret (above), a video shown at the event, a guilty husband confesses, "If I have to be brutally honest, it's not just naked women I look at" — implying that looking at straight porn either leads you to homosexuality (horrors!) osr possibly, as Leon guesses, "Brazilian monkey porn." And the pastor "tells of an email he claims to have received from a 12-year-old girl who's struggling against porn. It was written while crying with alcohol and a bottle of sleeping pills in front of her, because Satan now gives her nightmares." This 12-year-old, if she exists, deserves to be told that her sexual desires are normal, not that "Satan is pimpin' this generation" and trying to make her "his ho" (apparently "hip-hop language" is another tool of XXX Church). I'm not sure that we needed an "infiltrator" to tell us that fundamentalist anti-porn programs are ignorant, sex-negative, and creepy. Still, maybe we should all watch a little porn this Sunday in protest — after all, Satan has to get his money somehow.

Porn Sunday, The XXX Church, And You! [True/Slant]

• Remember Caroline Cartwright, she of the loud-sex lawsuit fame? She's back in the news for breaking her "anti-social behavior order" by having really, really loud sex with her husband (again). Breaking the Asbo could carry a sentence of vie years imprisonment, but it is unlikely that Cartwright will face jail time. • Six of the books shortlisted for the International Prize for Arabic Fiction feature female characters and center their struggle to escape their pasts, according to Reuters. The award comes with a $50,000 prize and often leads to publishing deals in other languages. • A Texas couple are facing charges after police found the remains of an aborted 7-month-old fetus in a box under their Christmas tree. They apparently first tried flushing the fetus, which was aborted at home using pills, down the toilet. They have been charged with abuse of a corpse and tampering with evidence. •  California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger on Sarah Palin: "You have to ask: what was she trying to accomplish? Is she really interested in this subject or is she interested in her career and in winning the [Republican] nomination [for president]? You have to take all these things with a grain of salt." Or, perhaps, an entire tub of Morton. • Am amusing Marist poll confirms what we suspected: Michelle is the more popular Obama. 68% of Americans have a favorable view of the first lady, with only 20% claiming an unfavorable view. 57% think that she is doing well in her position, and 41% believe that she has changed fashion for the better. • 

I feel a little dirty about it, but I kind of couldn't take my eyes off of Jacob Bernstein's Daily Beast profile of Uchitel. Partly this is because she had a pretty interesting life, punctuated by tragedy. Her dad died of coke addiction, and her fiance died on 9/11. Then she fought his parents over his money, saying, "Money doesn't necessarily compensate, but in this society that's what we use to compensate. What else is there unless they're going to give me some knight in shining armor?" Then she married another guy, divorced after four months, and over time became "a concierge, a consiglière who made sure VIPs were being taken care of over the course of the night." Bernstein's description of Uchitel at this point in her life reads like an especially sleazy detective novel:

By the time [club owner Jason Strauss] became involved with Uchitel (and gave her a job, first at his club Tao in Vegas, then in New York at Marquee), the club wasn't truly exclusive, though it was certainly expensive.

The same description could be used to describe Uchitel. As far as her looks went, Uchitel was no runway model, but she was sexy in the slightly overprocessed way that her job demanded, with a taste for Christian Louboutin heels and a body that was, at least of late, widely believed to be surgically enhanced. When Uchitel's relationship with Strauss busted up, she dusted herself off and moved on to other late-night locales, where she earned a reputation for being savvy and hardworking, albeit with sharp elbows and a bit too much drama.

She was the kind of dame you could have, for a price. But as the golfer later learned, that price was far too high. Cue saxophones. Seriously, though, Rachel Uchitel's story actually gets even more noirish than this. Bernstein cites our brother site Deadspin's claim that Uchitel was not just a mistress, but in fact a procurer of women for Woods. A.J. Daulerio (of cheetah fame) wrote that "Uchitel's main job was to provide women for Tiger during his globetrotting excursions to various tournaments, charity functions and fuck-and-run private-jet weekends with his Fortune 500 party pals that he seemed to enjoy so much." He also quotes an anonymous source who says, "Rachel Uchitel works for Tiger the minute he gets off the plane wherever he is: from dinner, to photos, to nightclubs, to drugs, to girls - whatever he wants," and "her agenda is to land big clients - not big boyfriends."

Bernstein, however, goes on to dispute this account. He writes,

[S]ubsequent reporting from both the National Enquirer (which initially broke the story of Woods' affair with Uchitel) and The Daily Beast indicate she was more mistress than madam. "I don't think she was doing anything illegal," says the nightclub source. Adds the publicist with ties to the nightlife world: "She's not a person I'd want to hang out with, but she's not low end or really sleazy. I think she's basically a girl looking for a rich husband." Says a third source: "If she introduced him to women, I doubt it went much further than that [i.e. bringing them over to his table to make an introduction]."

So is Rachel Uchitel just "a girl looking for a rich husband," a knight in AmEx armor? Or is she in fact a businesswoman whose job it is to provide powerful men with willing women (a practice that, it's worth noting, is not illegal if the women aren't explicitly paid)? The answer matters for a couple of reasons. First, if Uchitel is, as Daulerio claims, one of many procurers of her ilk, then an especially sordid side of sports culture could be exposed. Daulerio writes,

Athletes have utilized the VIP service to engage in their affairs (and meet possible mistresses) for the sake of (supposed) privacy, philandering without the hassle of having to do any work themselves to land these women. It's a dirty business all around. But what to do now, since Tiger has gone and messed it up for a bunch of people who were pretty safe from prying eyes and camera lenses whenever they stepped out on their wives and girlfriends during Vegas weekends?

It's no surprise that pro athletes and other powerful men have lots of secret sex. And really, it's also not a shock that there could be an entire cottage industry devoted to ferrying women back and forth from the table at a club to an athlete's hotel room, all while making sure everyone involved stays discreet. But if that discretion breaks down — as it has for many of Woods's mistresses but not yet for Uchitel — then sex for powerful men might become a little more like sex for normal people. They might have to actually work to hide it.

The nature of Uchitel's relationship with Woods also has implications for how we view her. Woods's other mistresses haven't come off particularly well in the wake of the whole car-crash-golf-club episode. They've generally been portrayed as interchangeable dumbasses — Daulerio's word is "bubbleheads" — who thought Tiger would love them forever and who are now clinging to his reflected fame (to be fair, the reflected-fame part may be true). If Uchitel's main role was to sleep with Woods, she'll be tarred with this brush. But if, in fact, she was orchestrating a highly organized system to satisfy Woods's appetites and keep those appetites a secret, and if she holds behind her still-zipped lips not only his secrets but the secrets of other men who have used this system, then she's a lot more threatening. And the whole media narrative of the Woods affair — one of stupid women gulled by an unscrupulous man — takes an interesting new turn. Cue saxophones.

The Real Rachel Uchitel [Daily Beast]
Chaos In Tigerland: A Deadspin Investigation Into The Sexual Habits Of Pro Athletes [Deadspin]

Now, I know a mini-cottage industry has sprung up for the sole purpose of analyzing the Obama's marriage. And Kate Harding touched on much of it when she analyzed the NY Times Magazine cover story about the First Marriage and the dynamics of power inherent in a relationship when one person is the President. She noted:

Despite my focus on the First Lady's sacrifices and the inequality of the marriage here (I am a humorless feminist, after all), Kantor's portrait of the Obama's marriage is really quite sweet, warts and all. They joke. They flirt. They go on dates and ignore the conservatives who flip out about our tax dollars going toward dinner and a show. That's just not the whole picture, and Michelle herself believes revealing the warts has a higher purpose.

Yet, for some reason, I couldn't shake the thought of two pieces on The Root about what reasonable expectations are for a mate. Jenée Desmond-Harris, in a piece called "What Single Women Can Learn from Michelle,"advised women to learn toembrace your goofy, badly -dressed, non dancing nerd and David Swerdlick, writing a response called "What Single Women Can't Learn From Michelle," asked all the single ladies to stop looking for the next President, stop gold-digging, realize hidden potential, and, uh, date outside the race.

I had issues with these types of articles before, but it wasn't until watching Barack Obama give Michelle the eye, laugh and joke, and actually listen to her speak instead of cutting her off like so many other powerful male public figures that I realized what people who say they want a Barack Obama actually want.

They want a partner that treats them with love, honors them by respecting their opinions, and listens like a friend.

Somehow, I don't think that's too much for any of us to ask for.

What Single Women Can Learn From Michelle [The Root]
What Single Women Can't Learn From Michelle [The Root]

Earlier: NYT Magazine: How Can A Marriage Be Equal When One Of You Is President?

Natasha Singer writes in the Times that premature ejaculation (abbreviated PE, also a setting in which it would be especially embarrassing) is the new erectile dysfunction, a male sexual issue with a drug to match. In this case there are two drugs — a pill called Priligy, and an aerosol dudes are supposed to spray it on their dicks if they have trouble lasting more than a minute. Neither is approved in the U.S., yet. In a study, the spray increased penetration-to-ejaculation time to an average of 2.6 minutes — not a huge difference, but maybe enough to feel like an improvement for some men. Singer points out that "there is no doubt that some men are distressed about their inability to control their orgasms," and for those who are deeply dissatisfied with their sex lives, medication may provide some help. But the maker of the spray, Sciele Pharma, claims that one in three men have PE, and this may be exaggerated.

Dr. Wayne Hellstrom tells Singer that somewhere between 20% and 30% of men have PE at some point — but he doesn't say how many of these cases clear up on their own when, say, the guys hit nineteen or so. And psychiatry professor Leonore Tiefer says,

Rapid ejaculation as opposed to slow ejaculation is common, but there is slow and fast everything in the world: slow and fast walkers, slow and fast eaters, slow and fast breathers. When you tell someone they are a fast ejaculator, it makes it sound like there is a right time to ejaculate and, if you ejaculate before, it's a medical problem.

Tiefer's words highlight a contradiction in Sciele Pharma's marketing: if one in three men really has PE, couldn't it be considered a normal variation, rather than a disease? The question is even more apt in relation to menopause, which every woman who reaches middle age undergoes. Singer also wrote the Times menopause article, along with Duff Wilson, and the two writers note that before allegations about cancer risk tainted the drugs' reputation, hormonal treatments were marketed as an almost necessary response to menopause. They cite a commercial in which Lauren Hutton "runs down a beach and warns of the health risks of estrogen loss," saying, "My doctor said if you don't replace estrogen that you lose at menopause, your risk for certain age-related diseases could increase." Since the breast cancer connection was posited, estrogen for menopausal symptoms has been rebranded as "menopausal hormone therapy," rather than "hormone replacement therapy," downplaying the idea that hormones need to be "replaced." Yet hormone advocate Suzanne Somers (pictured) continues to prescribe hormones as "the juice of life," and menopause as a disorder requiring treatment — and she's not alone.

The pharmaceutical industry likely cares far more about money than about gender, and the diseasification of both PE and menopause show drug companies turn to both men and women when they want to make a buck. Their appeals, however, are different in character. Treatment for PE seems to imply that men are insufficiently virile if they can't last "long enough," and that they need help in aerosol form. Of course, jokes about premature evacuation are ancient, and Sciele Pharma didn't invent male performance anxiety. But they are capitalizing on it, by implying that the solution to fast ejaculation isn't a change in sexual practices (last time I checked, a dude's hands and tongue still work even after he comes), but a spray to make him just like every other guy. Or rather, just like the Ideal Male as defined by restrictive social norms and eagerly reinforced by profit-minded executives. The Ideal Female, by contrast, is forever young. Lauren Hutton may have talked about health in her commercial, but the anti-menopause forces have long focused on sexiness and femininity, which are apparently the exclusive province of women with dewy faces and equally dewy vaginas. The idea that bodies change as we get older, and that sex might change along with them — that it might include more lube, more oral, or more imagination — seems anathema to an industry with a big financial stake in promulgating a single, difficult-to-achieve standard.

Of course, menopausal hormone treatments provide real relief to some people — and premature ejaculation spray may as well. The problem comes when people feel that they should take drugs because their bodies are inadequate in some way. One of the healthiest things in our culture could do would be to accept variations in both the way we look and the way we fuck, whether these variations are inborn or arrive with age. But that acceptance might lead to a corresponding acceptance of aging itself, of wrinkles and fat and hair loss and, eventually, death. And were we to truly embrace senescence for what it is — a natural part of life — we might buy a lot less shit. Which, of course, would be bad for the many companies clamoring to bring our penises and vaginas up to code.

Sure, It's Treatable. But Is It A Disorder? [NYT]
Menopause, As Brought To You By Big Pharma [NYT]

As part of her "Recession Road Trip" series, Christina Davidson interviews Princess, a forty-something woman who took up prostitution to help pay her father's medical bills. A former office manager, Princess was unable to find a new job after her company folded in 2008. So she put the word out through friends that she was "opening my pussy for business," and now she works independently, without a pimp or even a Craigslist ad. But it's Princess's description of her life that seem to have triggered Atlantic commenters' bullshit alarms. She says she "won't service married men or women, men of the cloth." And of the moral status of her occupation, she explains,

Like daddy says, there ain't no shame in bein' a ho. Society may look down on us, but that don't mean society's right. Catholic priests tell us how to live while they's diddling little boys in their free time. Reverends tell us how to live while they's hiring male hos and doing meth. Nu-uh. Don't no one tell me how to live. I have a mind and I can decide what's right and what's wrong for myself. [...]

Hurting people's wrong. Causing pain's wrong. Lying's wrong. Judging people's wrong. Stealing and murder, obviously, wrong. And hypocrisy, that's sometimes the worst wrong.

Commenter OGWiseman responds,

[S]ome of the quotes don't sound right. Would a Philly ho really say she doesn't service "men of the cloth"? Would "hypocrisy" really be on her list of sins? That sounds like an educated woman writing, not a prostitute speaking.

A commenter named decklap concurs:

Maybe Im sheltered here but my life experiences have not lead me to encounter many women who will proclaim "I's opening my pussy for business" AND be able to hold forth on the state of decline in the Catholic church, the whole thing is a clunky re-working of the hooker with a heart of gold cliche. Its an editorial masquerading as a story to suggest that it is representative of something more than Ms. Davidson's personal opinion on prostitution.

Commenter AswanDamn chimes in to defend Princess, sort of:

[D]id you guys read the section that describes her previous life as an (wait for it) office manager of a design firm? Did you stop and think for a moment that maybe this story wasn't about a typical "philly ho," but about the lengths desperate people will go to for their families?

But then jake4357 smacks Aswan down:

The office manager part is made up, too.

Whether or not Davidson is guilty of fabrication (which is, I'd remind the commenters, a very serious charge), the whole exchange is pretty upsetting. It seems impossible for some of the readers to believe that a prostitute can also be educated, or that someone could move effortlessly between slang and elevated language. But this is something college students and hipsters do every day, and you don't need a pair of Chucks and Phoenix tickets to mix high and low diction. The idea that someone poor enough to turn tricks must exhibit speech patterns that are completely predictable to people who read about her on the Internet is not only offensive but ignorant — OGWiseman and the others forget that who is "poor enough to turn tricks" was never completely obvious and has changed drastically with the recession, and that human language is far more nuanced than simple class categories would suggest.

Even AswanDamn, who tries to defend Princess, ends up doing so at the expense of "the typical philly ho." The implication of Aswan's words is that someone who once held a white-collar job would only turn to prostitution out of "desperation." But is it true that most "typical hos" have never worked in an office? That they are qualitatively different from Princess because they turned tricks before the economy got really bad? Who are these "typical hos" anyway? Perhaps the most interesting comment of all comes from summer, a commenter who claims to be a sex worker herself. She writes,

I started in "the business" as a masseuse nearly two years ago when my financial company shut its doors and the major lender who supported our institution crumbled. I have two college degrees, 6 years in the military,an outstanding resume and references. After 8 months of scraping by on unemployment and selling nearly everything I had of value, I was down to the beds that me and my little girl slept on. I saw an Craigslist one day regarding "sensual massage" - used the last $50 I had - got some cheap lingerie, candles and a spa CD at Wal-Mart - and set up shop. The only experience I had was a UC extension class on massage at that point - but at the end of the first day - I made enough to cover the rent.

And:

Now - when I am with my children - I am totally focused on them and their activities. I have a "provider phone" - linked to THIS business, a personal phone and a number for my financial business. We are relaxed and so much happier. I enjoy making people happy all day and have made a lot of wonderful friends. I only work when my daughter is in school (my sons are in college and out on their own now) and I am truly the captain of my own ship.

We can't prove summer's story anymore than we can Princess's, but the fact is that educated women do become prostitutes, and some who turn to sex work out of necessity stay because they like it. Some may disagree with Princess's assertion that prostitution isn't wrong, but it doesn't do either side of the debate any good to assume that prostitutes are all degraded women who can't make a coherent argument — or to artificially divide them into "typical hos" and nice women just providing for their families. The changes brought on by the recession should spur us to reconsider our preconceived notions about class, work, and language — not let them calcify into prejudice.

"Ain't No Shame In Bein' A Ho" [Atlantic]

Eric Felten opens his Journal column with the line, "Pity the man whose wife writes a memoir." His Exhibit A: Elizabeth Weil's Times Magazine piece about the intimate details of her marriage. I'll admit I winced a bit when reading this piece — Felten quotes Weil's mention of the "safe, narrow little bowling alley of a sex life" she and her husband shared, and I for one hope never to have my relationship problems written about in the Times. But I don't believe that men I've dated have never discussed those problems with anyone. Interestingly, Felten does. He writes,

No husband I know speaks out of school about his wife. You wouldn't trust any man who did. Say what you will about the male half of the species-famous for its promiscuous and predatory proclivities-but they can be remarkably discreet about the intimate aspect of marriage. Whether this is stoicism or a residual chivalry, it is a core part of the male code. Consider Tiger Woods's alleged transgressions: Perhaps the most appalling of them is the report that he prattled on to one of his cookies about how she connected with him in a way his wife did not. As if cheating weren't bad form enough.

Etonian diction aside ("speaks out of school?"), Felten's claim will seem pretty laughable to anyone who's ever heard a male friend complain about his significant other (I'm raising my hand). And the phrase "my wife doesn't understand me" became an old chestnut for a reason. Apparently, though, Felten is of the opinion that men remain stoically silent about their dissatisfactions while women chatter hennishly away:

Women, by contrast, seem to be at somewhat greater liberty to share private matters. This can be reflected in trivial indiscretions. DoubleX, a blog on Slate, asked its contributors for their Christmas wish lists. First up was Rachael Larimore, who proclaimed "All I want for Christmas is for my hubby to get a vasectomy. And he is!" I'm sure that made his day. Still, that's nothing compared to what gets aired in coffee klatches, where, according to writers such as Sandra Tsing Loh, the ladies get together to talk about how their husbands haven't touched them in years.

OMG vasectomy gross! And where those "coffee klatches" are concerned, if your husband "hasn't touched you in years," it seems legitimate to find some outlet for your frustration. Perhaps Felten would recommend the arms of an (appropriately quiet) mistress, but I think the ability to talk openly to friends about relationship problems is something men would do well to learn, if they haven't already. I'd also like to wag a finger at Tsing Loh, for feeding men's fear and hope that women's private conversations are all about them.

As The Daily Beast's Rebecca Dana points out, men have been responsible for this year's major sex scandals. Dana quotes Emily Gould, who says,

Men are typically seen as having agency and women are typically seen as being acted upon in romantic relationships. So then even when those stereotypical power dynamics aren't really the ones at play, the culture-making machinery will simplify whatever the real story is until it is a more familiar wronged-woman, lothario-man narrative.

But one of the ways women have been able to reclaim some agency, especially in times of great subjugation, is by talking. It's no accident that Scheherazade saved her skin with stories, or that the Little Mermaid had to give up her voice to land her prince (some view this as a metaphor for castration). Women may not actually have a monopoly on words, but men have always feared female "oversharing," because it's a way of taking back a narrative otherwise controlled by men. If women can write about their marriages in the New York Times, then the "familiar wronged-woman, lothario-man" story, along with the story about how women become asexual when they hit forty, and the one about how men need variety and women need security, and all the other patriarchy-approved stories about sex and love and female identity, have some competition. No wonder Felten wants us to keep our mouths shut.

Wives Who Kiss And Tell, And Tell, And Tell [Wall Street Journal]
Why Women Don't Have Sex Scandals [Daily Beast]

The article revolves around Helena Andrews, an author who recently sold and optioned her memoir, which is described as a series of satirical essays about being an urban black woman in Chocolate City.

However, taking the long view of Andrew's life - and what broader conclusions can be drawn around race, gender, and region - often forces the article to stumble. For example, this description of Andrew's life works from the archetype of the sassy, single, chick-lit heroine mashed up with BAP overachiever stereotypes:

A journalist who has written for Politico and The Root, Andrews says her book attempts to reveal what's behind the veneer. In a series of essays, Andrews documents the lives of so many young black women who appear to have everything: looks, charm, Ivy League degrees, great jobs. Closets packed full of fabulous clothes; fabulous condos in fabulous gentrified neighborhoods; fabulous vacations, fabulous friends. And yet they are lonely: Their lives are repetitive, desperate and empty. They are post-racial feminists who have come of age reaping the benefits of both the civil rights movement and the women's movement, then asking quietly: What next?

Fabulous gentrified neighborhoods? (Is that before or after all your cool friends move out because no one can afford the rent?) How can your life be repetitive, desperate, and empty if you have fabulous vacations and fabulous friends?

And don't get me started on the post-racial thing.

The small glimpses we are shown from the book appear to have the potential to be hilarious:

The disappointment as you end up at the bar once again, committing straw violence in your drink (stirring the drink frantically and unconsciously).

Much of the focus of the piece comes back to this key premise, that all of Andrew's problems seem to stem from:

"For a lot of black women, especially young successful black women, we have a lot of boxes on our master plan list checked off," Andrews says. "We think happiness should come immediately after that. But that is not always the case."

Love is much too hard to find and when these women do, it may go all wrong because of issues that are too complicated for statistics, Andrews says. She is quick to say, "There are tons of black families who are healthy and good." Even so, black women are more likely than white women to grow up poor or otherwise struggling financially; to be fatherless and to experience a myriad of other societal and/or familial dysfunctions. Ironically, the "issues" can also include being a "strong" woman: the can-do, opinionated type many black women become after growing up in a matriarchal household, the type with whom some men still just can't deal.

The idea of love as another item on the to do list doesn't really make sense. It doesn't happen on a timetable. It's as Kelis sings in Millionaire: Saks Fifth Ave don't sell affection. So while doing things like earning a degree or landing a good job can be accomplished with focus, dedication, and follow through, love is messier kind of alchemy.

I mean, think about it. To get into a relationship with someone, you generally need two people to be: currently or soon to be available; in the same physical proximity (or internet savvy enough to be on the same website); into the same types of hang out spots, or to have enough in common to cross paths; both need to find each other physically attractive; and both need to be at a time in their lives when they can afford to spend the time to develop a relationship.

Throw all the other preferences out of the window - the list above is enough to make anyone's head spin, and we haven't even personalized it yet.

The article continues, revealing that Andrews may also have a habit of setting herself up for failure:

"I went on a date last night with Cornrows," Andrews says, using the nickname that her friends have given the man. "I got in his car and there was this strawberry smell fragrance. I had to roll the window down by hand. I assume it's paid for."

Cornrows, she says, seems nice, but that is the problem. "He can put together coherent sentences, but they are not in any way related to my life," she says. She laughs, but catches herself. She knows the man is trying hard. She also knows Cornrows doesn't stand a chance.

"I'm a mean woman. I don't date nice people. That's why I'll be alone for the rest of my life. I will always have to settle."

This sentiment is one that quite a few of women can relate to. This guy is nice enough - but still not quite enough to be what Andrews is looking for. Many on the Post site seem to think that Andrews has overly high expectations. But a large part of this is the fantasies sold about life. Just as there is an entire industry around the idea of having it all, there is also one at selling the easy relationship. Sister Toldja has a hilarious take on the quintessential black romance movie Love Jones, saying:

I know many people have been let down by this movie. Talk about setting the stage for great expectations. I think sisters take it especially hard. Showing Love Jones to a group of Black women in their early 20's is like showing a bunch of Iranian kids a Disney World brochure. Dream all you want to, kids. But that trip probably ain't happening for you. [...]

Okay, so maybe I don't have the longest list of reasons as to why I shoulda had a real life LJ experience by now, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't. Because I should.

And I'll tell you why I haven't. Because brothers like this don't exist in real life:

I don't mean brother like Larenz Tate. I am talking about Darius "groove in yo' left thigh/tryna be the funk in yo' right" Lovehall. This man was phenomenal. He was a poet. He cooked breakfast. He respected a woman who brought him home after the FIRST NIGHT. He was fine. He had great friends (except for Bill Bellamy; but I think dudes all got one Bill Bellamy-ass friend). And even when he got Nina started smoking cigarettes, it was sexier than anything the average man can do on his best day.

Meanwhile, I can't find a marginally attractive and reasonably interesting man to give even half of a flying fuck about me.

I had a different read on Love Jones (I enjoyed it but it could have been subtitled "Massive Failures to Communicate"), but Toldja's point is what's important. Nothing comes easy, but a lot of women are convinced these kinds of men don't exist at all.

But, speaking as someone who is a DC area native, there are lots of men that fit every type of profile around town. Hell, if you want a man that's good with words, who will tinge love poems with sweet vulgarities, they are plentiful. Last night, at Busboys and Poets, I didn't see Darius Lovehall, but I did see "Have You Ever Made Love to a Poet" Marc Marcel:

Many of the commenters over at the Washington Post site latched onto Andrew's admissions of bitchery to justify everything from racism to continuing black gender wars to anger over what passes as WaPo worthy. However, buried deeper in the article, I found this small segment more compelling:

The genesis of Andrews's book came from a conversation a few years ago between Andrews and Gina, a social scientist who lives in Los Angeles. They wanted to start a blog to explore "why black women can't find a man." The day she talked to an agent about this idea and pitched it as a book, one of her sorority sisters committed suicide.

It jarred Andrews. "We stopped. Discussed what happened. We think each other's lives are fine. You got a good job. A good place to live. You will handle it." But some people can't handle it. "She looked like any other successful black woman," Andrews says of her friend. , "Good clothes, stylish. Ivy League degree, master's." Nobody saw it coming. She won't discuss the details, but you can see it in her face, the mind racing over the why.

This darker theme drives the fear behind narratives of singledom and success. What does it mean if you achieved everything, checked off all the boxes on the to-do list, and still feel empty? And realize this emptiness comes from realizing that the stories we were sold about "a good life" may not be what we want, and the one size fits all American Dream is confining? What if searching for a relationship wasn't really about the dynamics between men and women, but about having the last piece to a puzzle we are told will unlock true happiness? And what if, even after achieving everything on the list, it still isn't what you want?

Sometimes, our quest for love and companionship is really a quest for affirmation and answers. As Andrews asks:

"People keep talking about the black single woman in D.C. But do you know who she is? Does she know what she wants? They should stop saying we have it all together. . . . I am that single black woman in Washington, D.C. Why is she single? This is who I am. Tell me."

Successful, black and lonely [Washington Post]
Revisit- Love Jones: The Greatest Lie Ever Told [The Beautiful Struggler]
Official Site [Busboys and Poets]
Official Site [Marc Marcel]

In a heart-wrenching LA Times article, Joe Markman reports that many child prostitutes can't simply be returned to their family homes. Richard Estes, a social policy professor at UPenn, says, "Most of the girls that have run away and are on the streets have run away because of sexual abuse." Lisa Goldblatt Grace, a consultant for the Health and Human Services Department, concurs: she says underage prostitutes and sex trafficking victims "lack a safe, stable place to live, and that's part of what made them vulnerable to begin with." Estes says kids who escape prosecution need "a rebuilding and remolding of personality and character." Instead, they end up in group homes, inadequate foster homes, or even prison, on "material witness hold." Only three organizations in the country offer residential programs for former child prostitutes, meaning just 44 beds exist for between 100,000 and 300,000 victims.

Adult prostitution may be a controversial issue, but keeping kids out of the sex trade — and offering help to those who do fall into it — seems like a no-brainer. But Markman quotes former LA detective Keith Haight uttering one of the saddest sentences I've heard in a long time: "A lot of places don't want to take responsibility for girls that are known to be sexually active." The idea that sexually active girls somehow become damaged goods that no one wants to deal with is incredibly depressing, but it's just another illustration of the grim fact that America doesn't know how to help kids who violate a certain ideal of innocence. We try child criminals as adults, because we think "real" kids don't commit crimes — and when kids get involved in sex or drugs, they become "undesirable," even though they are the ones who most need care. According to Markman, there's been a trend in recent years against prosecuting child prostitutes, which is a step in the right direction. But his article drives home the fact that child prostitution isn't just a problem of developing countries — it's happening right here, and we suck at dealing with it.

Image via LA Times.

Rescued Child Prostitutes Not Receiving Help [LA Times]

According to U.S. News & World Report, two new studies show that people associate anger with male faces and happiness with female ones. When subjects were shown androgynous faces that looked angry, they were more likely to identify them as male. But if the faces looked happy or fearful, people were more likely to label them as female. And in another experiment, subjects were slower to identify faces as female if the faces looked pissed off. Says psychologist Ursula Hess, "The present research shows that the association between anger and men and happiness and women is so strong that it can influence the decisions about the gender of another person when that person is viewed briefly."

In another study, researchers gave women testosterone pills and studied how they played a cooperation-based game. The game involved giving one woman $10 and instructing her to choose an amount to offer her partner. If the partner turned down the offer, neither got money. Women who received testosterone were no less generous than their peers — unless they were told they'd gotten the hormone. Those who knew they'd gotten testosterone "stood out with their conspicuously unfair offers," wrote the study authors. Lead author Ernst Fehr says that when asked about how they thought testosterone would affect them, the subjects said things like, "Oh, testosterone would make me more egotistic, more risk-taking and more aggressive." In other words, they thought testosterone would make them drive a harder bargain, and so they did just that, even though the testosterone alone might have had no effect.

What's interesting about these studies is that they show how deeply ingrained our perceptions of masculinity and femininity are — and, in the case of the bargaining study, how these perceptions may be even stronger than reality. Are women actually happier than men? Are men more angry? Probably not — but we may be socialized to express these emotions more freely, with the result that they become associated with gender. The result looks a lot like a feedback loop: girls are told it's not feminine to get mad, so they avoid making mad faces, and so people begin to think that anger is for men, and the cycle begins all over again. Similarly, if women learn that aggression is "male," they may not behave aggressively (except when hopped up on testosterone), further reinforcing this stereotype. The finding that this stereotype outstrips the actual effects of testosterone underscores the fact that gender differences are problematic, and that we shouldn't be too quick to assume that any difference in behavior has a biological basis. As Michael Naef, co-author of the testosterone study, says, "In a society where qualities and manners of behavior are increasingly traced to biological causes...this should make us sit up and take notice."

Are Angry Women More Like Men? [U.S. News & World Report]
Women On Testosterone Only Think They're Macho [New Scientist]
Testosterone "Prompts Fair Play, Not Aggression" [Reuters]

What's shocking about Fulbright's advice isn't its premise — going to strip clubs as a couple isn't really all that kinky, though I'd question whether said clubs are usually "somber" or "reserved." It's her "9 Reasons" why couples should engage in this "threesome of foreplay." To whit:

1. There's no work involved.

Foreplay becomes a breeze even before you take your seat. Lovers often find themselves sexually excited at the mere prospect of going to a strip club. Yet this arousal goes far beyond pre-game show titillations, with lovers already anticipating what will happen once they get back home.

Really? You have to drive to the strip club, watch a show, drive home*, and then have sex, at which point the woman will probably have cooled off enough that some actual foreplay is still required. Is this really less work than just going down on her a little?

Then there's this:

4. The experience can make them feel sexier.

By identifying with the stripper's sexuality or desiring it, lovers can feel more wanton in the process. In other cases, where a stripper looks particularly haggard, a woman may come away from the experience feeling confirmed (and relieved) that she's more attractive than the gal on stage. After all, the slight jealousy that can be fueled by the experience acts as inspiration to outdo the stripper at some point.

So basically the point of going to a strip club is to reassure yourself that you're hotter than the used-up old slutbag on the pole. Nice.

9. It puts a woman's mind at ease.

Even if they don't like watching their men get turned on, some women would rather know what their partners are doing than be left wondering. Accompanying him to a strip club makes her feel like she's more on top of his sexual liaisons.

[...]

Remember, flexibility is key, as the rules may need to change once you're inside. Seeing strip club fantasies become reality can be difficult for some. It may tap insecurities for some, while the sight of often sad, blank-faced strippers evokes pity from others.

For an article that initially seemed like it would be stripper-positive, Fulbright's piece actually presents one of the nastiest views of stripping I've ever read. Apparently strippers are "often sad, blank-faced" vehicles for the harmless titillation of nice girls — girls who have boyfriends and husbands and would never think of taking off their clothes for money (they do it for exercise! In pole-dancing class!). The whole article carries a whiff of classism and moralism even as it advocates something the author claims is "taboo." And Fulbright's claim that going to a strip club "puts a woman's mind at ease" seems totally flawed. The experience a man has at a strip club with his partner is likely totally different from the one he has by himself or with male friends — by going with him, a woman is creating a whole new sexual situation, not eavesdropping on an existing one. This isn't to say that seeing a stripper might not be hot for some couples — but those who would do so out of mistrust or a desire to feel superior might be better off seeing a therapist. And anyway, the best way to get "on top of his sexual liaisons" is probably the most literal one.

* I guess this doesn't apply if you have sex in the strip club bathroom. Or if the strip club is actually a sex club — but somehow I don't think Fox News endorses those.

FoxSexpert: 9 Reasons Strip Clubs Can Spice Up Your Sex Life [Fox News]

The press release explains that the new name came about last spring, when the Association for Sexuality Education (RFSU) published a book "intended to dispel some of the myths surrounding the hymen and virginity." The book describes what the female genitals actually look like and what the hymen (whoops, sorry, vaginal corona) really is.

Apparently, the word "hymen" comes from the Greek word for membrane. In Swedish, the word of hymen was mödomshinna, which translates literally as "virginity membrane." However, the book explains that the hymen is actually made up of folds of mucous membrane. They also describe the appearance of the hymen:

Every woman's corona looks different - just like ear lobes, noses and labia - and differs in size, colour and shape... It is slightly pink, almost transparent, but if it's thicker it may look a little paler or whitish. It may resemble the petals of a rose or other flower, it may be carnation-shaped, or it may look like a jigsaw piece or half-moon.

Pretty!

More importantly, the booklet points out that the hymen has little to do with virginity. There is no such thing as "breaking" the hymen. The corona can be torn slightly, or experience minor trauma, but since the tissue is elastic, it is never entirely ruptured. Contrary to popular belief, the book claims that the hymen also can't be broken by a bike seat or riding a horse. RFSU secretary general Åsa Regnér explains:

The vaginal corona is a permanent part of a woman's body throughout her life. It doesn't disappear after she first has sexual intercourse, and most women don't bleed the first time. The myths surrounding the hymen were created to control women's freedom and sexuality. The only way to counteract this is by disseminating knowledge.

In order to do this, the RFSU has translated the book into several languages commonly spoken in Sweden. It makes for an interesting read - the discussion of the virginity myth is particularly good - and has taught me a couple new things about my lady parts. Unfortunately, I'm not sure the name is going to stick. While I only have good associations with the word "corona," its too hard not to think of it "with lime" rather than "carnation-shaped mucous membrane." And frankly, I prefer the former.

Time For More Accurate Terminology: Hymen Renamed "Vaginal Corona" [RFSU]
Hymen, I Hardly Knew Ya [Feministe]
Vaginal Corona Booklet (PDF) [RFSU]

Knox is reportedly on suicide watch, and one of her lawyers has announced that he'll appeal her conviction, focusing on the fact that none of her DNA was found at the crime scene. Meanwhile, some Americans supposedly "vowed to boycott Italian holidays, wine and food," at least according to The Sun. And Sen. Maria Cantwell, of Knox's home state of Washington, says, "I think what happened [Friday] is we had a decision in which it seems the overall impression of Amanda Knox by the press in Italy and the overwhelming amount of attention given this case may have prejudiced the jury." She continues, "I think it's important for both of our countries to make sure that justice is served and that there is a rule of law and a standard that people believe in." Cantwell plans to ask the EU to put pressure on Italy, and she will request a meeting with Hillary Clinton regarding Knox. Says Clinton, "Of course, I'll meet with Sen. Cantwell or anyone who has a concern but I can't offer any opinion about that at this time."

Knox's family members swear she's innocent, and are preparing to begin the arduous appeal process — it could be a whole year before her appeal even goes to trial. Meanwhile, her defenders continue to question the objectivity of the Italian court. Time writer Nina Burleigh tells ABC,

People here in this town [Perugia] have been reading these stories ... 'Sex Game Gone Wrong,' 'Drug Fueled Sex Game. They believe that scenario is real, that it's true. [...] A lot of people think that this verdict has a lot to do with the power of the prosecutor, the power of the police in this town and the fact that once this train started to roll ... the jury and the judge in this case were very leery of stopping it.

Not everyone is so supportive. Says the murder victim's brother, Lyle Kercher, "We're pleased that we got the decision but it's not a time for celebration." According to Libby Purves of the London Times, it's a time for an indictment of "fling culture." Here's her version of the crime:

We live in a transitional age where sexual licence is concerned: those who embrace it enthusiastically (bragging of having strangers on trains, like Knox) remain uneasily aware of old taboos. They can become shrilly angry if anyone seems to disapprove, possibly because deep down they are not sure they wholly approve of themselves. It is not hard to see how hostile Amanda Knox could become to her sober flatmate; and how, assisted by drink, drugs and admiring men, it could lead her into a vicious folie à trois. And thence, confused, to a drunken, clumsy cover-up and a chilling flippancy (even turning cartwheels) at the police station.

Purves says it's inaccurate to portray Knox as "sexually adventurous," and that "these people" (people who have casual sex? People who get accused of brutal throat-slittings? Are they one and the same?) are simply "randy and needy, and afraid or incapable of love." Purves continues,

What is really sad though - see, even I jib at saying "wrong" - is the idea of "adventurousness": sex made "zipless", gourmet, divorced from affection, understanding, wonder or hope. You clock a hot piece, pull, mate and discard with hardly a name-check. It rounds off the evening but blunts your humanity. Many grow out of it and find faithful partnerships. Some find later life haunted by it. Some misunderstand the other party's intentions and are devastated, or become stalkers.

At worst, a few confuse the general tolerance with permission to bully and coerce.

That's right, ladies. Better keep your pants zipped — or you might end up murdering your roommate and spending your life in an Italian jail. Don't say we didn't warn you.

Amanda Knox: U.S. Backlash Grows As Hillary Clinton Is Called In Over Jailing [Daily Mail]
Clinton In Knox Vow [Sun]
Fantasy World Fuelled By Sex, Drink And Drugs [TimesOnline]
Foxy Knoxy On 'Suicide Watch' [New York Post]
Knox "Completely Surprised" By Verdict, Parents Say [MSNBC]