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Hef vs. Douche
Ross Douthat begins his dance on Hugh Hefner’s grave by accusing Hef of pornography leading to masturbation. Remembering that, for some reason, people won’t believe that Hefner is thereby responsible for untold millions of cases of blindness and insanity, Douthat goes on to pile on more charges, some of which stick.
Hefner came to prominence in Ross Douthat’s kind of world. Sex was a giant squid, far too scary to talk or think clearly about. Birth control and alternatives to PIV were illegal (though almost everyone got away with them). Abortion was illegal and particularly shameful. One could also go to jail for saying forbidden words onstage or printing pictures that showed pubic hair. The only controversy about gay people was whether they belonged in the jail or the bughouse.
Hefner challenged all of that, printing his nude pictures along with excellent fiction and nonfiction and editorials questioning the war on some drugs and the war on some Asians. To be sure, he pandered to acquisitiveness and display, and his last years were horrible for his harem and probably not all that much fun for him.
But I’m happy to live in the world Hef made. For one thing, when Ross Douthat proudly proclaims that when a pill-taking woman threatened his precious maidenhood, he ran off in terror, perhaps with a hand protectively cupped over his boy bits, we can laugh in his face.
Hefner came to prominence in Ross Douthat’s kind of world. Sex was a giant squid, far too scary to talk or think clearly about. Birth control and alternatives to PIV were illegal (though almost everyone got away with them). Abortion was illegal and particularly shameful. One could also go to jail for saying forbidden words onstage or printing pictures that showed pubic hair. The only controversy about gay people was whether they belonged in the jail or the bughouse.
Hefner challenged all of that, printing his nude pictures along with excellent fiction and nonfiction and editorials questioning the war on some drugs and the war on some Asians. To be sure, he pandered to acquisitiveness and display, and his last years were horrible for his harem and probably not all that much fun for him.
But I’m happy to live in the world Hef made. For one thing, when Ross Douthat proudly proclaims that when a pill-taking woman threatened his precious maidenhood, he ran off in terror, perhaps with a hand protectively cupped over his boy bits, we can laugh in his face.
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Tingling tailwords
As we know, when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. Dr. Chuck Tingle has become a full-time smutmonger. (Another famous quote for this literary giant, addressed to the Puppies: “Do not call up that which you cannot put down.”)
Thanx to File 770
Thanx to File 770
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Beyond Lincoln's Doctor's Dog
A Billionaire Dinosaur Forced Me Gay
Thanx to Slate Star Codex
The year is 2014 and dinosaurs have gained control of the world economy due to exceptionally accurate stock predictions. After graduating from NYU with a business degree, John is hired to be the assistant for one of the largest trading firms on Wall Street. His boss, the CEO of the company is highly regarded as the best businessman of the century. Only difference is that he is a dinosaur!
This is a 3,500 word hardcore gay erotic novel. It includes- Rough sex, dubcon, oral, cream pies and more!
Thanx to Slate Star Codex
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Supersmut
I go back to the days when you could go to jail for printing line drawings of people copulating. As with heteroracial marriage and letting women have their own credit cards, we have come a long way to barely acceptable. Some think we have gone too far, and Great Britain has new rules, for which I like
andrewducker's summary: New British porn censorship is nothing to do with safety, and everything to do with people going "Ewwww." I recommend the discussion over at
bart_calendar's place. (NSFW, of course)
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An old look at the lesbian
Fifty years ago, you couldn't publish honest porn without getting arrested, so there was a genre of Ain't It Awful Porn, which combined sexual content with what Philip Roth called "the collective ecstasy of sanctimony." (Kenneth Starr attempted to revive the genre a while back.) The famous Horrible Example was The Velvet Underground (the group named after it was no worse). Here's another.