The Definition of Consent in “Consensual Sex”

 

I am not a guy … and will never be one. (Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing will be for history to decide.)

I do have friends who are males; and my bestfriend in the whole world possesses an X and a Y chromosome. Most of what I know about maleness, I learned from him, so if my ideas are wrong, he is probably to blame 🙂

***

This morning, I got to thinking about hazing in fraternities and the morbidities and mortalities that arise of such practice.

Full disclosure: my bestfriend (the one who has the XY chromosome) went through such a practice himself and survived. So, that is my bias.

The thing is:

  1. There is a term called “informed consent.” And while the concept has been originally applied to medical procedures that will be done on a patient, the idea as a metaphor can apply in this case.
  2. People who enter fraternities are assumed to be adults (fraternities are banned in high schools and people below 18 are not allowed to join by the college).
  3. Adults are presumed to know what they want.
  4. It is not a big secret that initiation rites that may/may not involve hazing happen in fraternities. Like, hello, I may have been a naive ignorant virgin at 22 but even I knew that when my then boyfriend said he was paddled, it didn’t mean that they went kayaking.
  5. The adult neophyte was not bullied into joining, not coerced, not forced in any way — at least ideally that should be the case. Systemic factors may come into consideration like, some fields (dare I say Law School?) may have the reputation among undergrads that say “success in later career will be determined by being a Greek or non-Greek”, hence the pressure. But still, hey you are an adult, and a law student at that, and you caved in to peer pressure and allowed yourself to be humiliated and physically molested when you didn’t want to? What kind of lawyer will you turn out to be? I mean, just saying.
  6. This is where my data is hazy: the neophyte, can say “no” at anytime during the hazing process.

***

Now if you are wondering, why I kept blabbing about hazing when the title of my article is about consensual sex. Then read this:

Judge accused of ‘victim blaming’ for saying women risk rape by getting drunk

I have never seen, for the life of me, an argument in a hazing case that goes like this: “Neophyte was asking to die by getting into an organization that he knows involves an initiation rite where other guys will paddle him to death.”

Seriously.

***

In conclusion: the correct question during a trial investigating hazing where a victim died is “did, at any point in time, he say no?”

***

 

 

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Romance (film), 1999

I watched Romance because I googled Rocco Siffredi, who apparently, according to G, is one of the more phenomenal porn male stars there are. Thank you G 🙂 🙂

 

The movie is brave for its time.

We must remember that in 1999, the internet was just a baby (or maybe a toddler). Emails were used primarily for business/academic purposes, MIRC chatrooms were the norm, “blog” is an unheard of word, there was no Facebook (Twitter was just a dream), internet porn was in the fetal stage.

On the other hand, video porn was available way back in the 1960s.

Romance by writer-director Catherine Breillat is not porn. Though, one can understand why a lot of people would think of it as such. It garnered XXX ratings in several countries. And it did feature explicit sex scenes, masturbation scene, cunnilingus, fellatio, BDSM, rape — you name it, it has it; except for bestiality, necrophilia and other conditions that may be considered pathologic.

The raciest thing it was accused of was featuring unsimulated sex between the lead actress Caroline Ducey and eye candy Rocco Siffredi.

Ladies and gentlemen (especially the gentlemen), take it from me, speaking as someone who has had sex in all manners of undress and in various positions before, Caroline and Rocco did not have unsimulated sex.

It is difficult, well at least uncomfortable for the man, to enter a vagina in that position. Trust me — or try it, whichever you prefer.

That must be the reason why, as Roger Ebert said in his review, “At a screening at the Toronto Film Festival there was some laughter, almost all female, but I couldn’t tell if it was nervous, or knowing.”

Roger, darling, the women were laughing because it was funny. Rocco and Caroline could not have had sex, like penis-in-vagina sex, because if they had done so, Rocco would have sued Catherine Breillat for a broken (or fractured) penis — which medically, is not an impossible condition.

The female audience may also have been laughing at the BDSM scene between Francois Berleand and Caroline Ducey. Their second BDSM encounter is really funny. Again, try it, to understand why.

It has been 18 years since Romance was screened. Thank God, I did not see it in 2012, otherwise, I would have had some seditious ideas (knowing how impressionable I was) and G would probably have had a nasty headache on his hands.

In any case, between 1999 and 2017:

  • the World Trade Center was destroyed by terrorists,
  • in a certain Southeast Asian country: Erap Estrada was booted out of office, GMA became a fake president for 9 years and Noynoy Aquino became the highest leader in a country despite being single and accused (probably unjustified) of autism (what is so wrong with being autistic, I have no idea, people with Asperger’s can lead perfectly happy and productive lives), then he was succeeded by self-confessed murderer, Rodrigo Duterte (proving that the Philippines as a nation is the one with mental disability)
  • Friendster then Multiply then Facebook then WordPress then Twitter then Instagram were born … yipee!!
  • Sheryl Sandberg became a CEO of Facebook, ditto for Marissa Mayer of Yahoo,
  • Sex and the City re-defined how we see women who do (and I mean “do” in all sense of the word, prurient or otherwise), Girls finished 6 seasons and it redefined how we see women (or girls) interact with each other and the men (or boys) in their lives
  • Fifty Shades of Grey by EL James became (undeservedly or not) a book and movie phenomenon (in the financial sense),
  • the Arab Spring happened,
  • Rocco Siffredi retired from porn (2004), then returned to porn (2009), then retired again (2015)

A lot of things can happen in 18 years.

When Romance was screened and Roger Ebert watched it, he had this to say:

“… the film has an icy fascination. Perhaps it is a test of how men and women relate to eroticism on the screen. I know few men who like it much (sure proof it is not pornographic). Women defend it in feminist terms, but you have the strangest feeling they’re not saying what they really think.”

It is my opinion that the reviewer sounded defensive or maybe baffled? I cannot blame the guy — he is a male, after all.

I wonder, though, what he will say about it now.

The Fake Man-in-Your-Life

“It is a losing game to compare women’s stories to one another, to listen only to the ones who endured the “worst” or most sensational trauma—that way of thinking leads to the culture of complicity and silence that protected Weinstein for years. Our stories don’t happen in a vacuum; they’re all deeply connected and propagated by the same sexist culture. We need to continue to share both our experiences and our survival tactics with each other. Which is to say that if anyone is in the market for a fake boyfriend, I know a guy.”

from Getty Images

***

What a shitty world it is where women has to invent a man (in lieu of acquiring one)  just to feel safe.

Margaux Is Faking It (a short story)

 

“I’m gonna fuck your ass, I’m gonna fuck your ass. Ugh, ugh”

“Yes, fuck me in the ass, fuck me in the ass.”

I yawned. This Chinese-looking guy with a big dick is totally having the time of his life pummeling behind me, uncaring whether my head is hitting the wall with the force of his thrusts.

Men are such pigs.

I really didn’t care much about him; but he looked cute, I was wasted and horny and he wanted to fuck. So hell. Yeah.

The foreplay is routine, to be honest. Lip-sucking, breast sucking,  cunt-fingering – he didn’t go down on me, what a dope. But I got off. Kinda.

It’s getting harder and harder to go off these days.

And dammit, I need to go off. My work which I totally love is totally fucking me.

Like yesterday. I went to this meeting. Or hearing. Whatever.

It’s on fake news. And it was held in the grand, august halls of the Senate. And this porky-looking senator had the temerity to show up. What an asshole! He’s a pig, really. His wife died of cancer and I fucked him once. I don’t even think he remembers. Those were the days when I was desperate … like money-desperate.

I am not so desperate now. I have my page, my following. I have the ear of the most important man of the land. And he likes me. And he’s like my dad (in my mind I call him Big Daddy). He brings me on trips. He thinks I’m smart and funny and just … we are just having fun together. I tried to seduce him once, but he couldn’t get it up anymore, poor guy. So I just blew him. He was very grateful. His cum tasted like  durian.

“Let’s get on the bed, baby,” the big oaf behind me is saying.

“Huh?” I say. I walk the few steps to the king-sized bed in this space-age themed motel room in the capital city. I love this motel. I have a lot great memories here. I don’t know if this will be one of them.

“Now baby grab your tits. Yeah like that.” I lie supine and make myself comfortable. I do as he says. He hunkers over me and licks my nipples. Please … what is it with guys and nipples? I mean, 70% of those I fuck have this thing with nipples.  I’m like, you’re such babies, get a fucking pacifier. I want him to go down on me. But I forgot to shave, and men generally like dealing with your clit only if they can see it. Otherwise, they don’t bother.

I let my mind wander. So yesterday was not so bad. My bosses did not throw me under the bus or anything. They were very protective, actually. (They should take care of me, of course; or they will answer to their boss, Big Daddy.)

I haven’t seen Big Daddy for several days now. He was busy going around the country pacifying the military troops. He’s paranoid about coup d’etat. I laugh at him when he goes all serious like that. I remind him that 16 million of his people want him in office. The military is putz, because he is the rightful king, I mean, leader.

But he told me that this country is fickle-minded and he has to cover all his bases. Poor Big Daddy, he’s so stressed. Last week, he had a showdown with this ex-convict senator who had the gall to accuse Big Daddy of corruption. Big Daddy had to defend himself. Too bad the info this bastard Snoopy gave us was fake; Big Daddy was burned. Snoopy would have to die, of course. Scum.

“Ugh, ugh … you are totally hot, babe. Grab my ass.”

I roll my eyes. My legs are hanging on his shoulders and he’s pummeling on me again. I want to tell him: you have to pace yourself, dude. But guys are dicks, they will go limp the moment you give them instructions.

Anyway, yesterday, I thought I was doing well until Senator Piolo came. He’s an autistic nerd, honestly. I wonder how he fucks his wife. Darling, I can’t find your clitoris, let me grab my map? I swear, he must have memorized Masters and Johnson’s before his wedding night. His wife is a limp-faced, elitist bitch. I hope she  is anorgasmic.

Senator Piolo is a total dope. He had the temerity to make fun of Roy. But Roy is smart and very bitchy. I love Roy; we went shopping in Prada that day in Dubai. Roy’s blog has 700,000 followers, way less than mine (only 4 million, bitch) but when I tease him about him, he just laughs and says most of mine are bots. He has a dark sense of humor, but I love him.

Senator Piolo, in his high-and-mighty chair, really went hard on Roy. But Roy held his own. Afterwards, I whispered to him, next time, we’ll gut the nerd. Roy laughed and gave me a high five.

I feel myself getting wet again. Good, great … ahh … so this big, dumb oaf knows what he is doing after all. He pumps like a piston and now he’s gonna kiss me. I take his tongue, taste the apple in his breath. I suck him; he sucks me. He bites my lip. I give myself to the pleasure, riding high on dope and cock. Hell, fuck. Yeah.

 

***

“Was it great for you babe?” he asks me after.

I think on his question. I remember yesterday when the nerd asked me: “Were you fair when you wrote those stuff about me?”

I look at the Chinese-looking guy in the eye and say: “Definitely.”

 

 

 

Privileges **

** (noun) a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people — as defined by Google

a book without women is often said to be about humanity but a book with women in the foreground is a woman’s book. — Rebecca Solnit

images

 

In an ideal world, we would all have the same privileges irrespective of race, gender or social class.

But it is not an ideal world. Privileges (even by definition) are conferred based on what you are, not what you have done or what you can do.

Men have certain privileges by virtue of the fact that they have a Y-chromosome and a penis; while women do not.

Recently, I can’t help but wonder if these privileges are conferred only on certain types of men while excluding others. Maybe privileges are conferred not on the basis of anatomy but about society’s perception about your person-hood (specifically, male-hood or female-hood).

I have come across the blog of a man who is a self-described introvert, pessimist, mediocre, 30-year-old virgin. Dateless and bothered about it, he took it upon himself to start a blog chronicling his (mis)adventures — I find his voice articulate, engaging, somewhat depressing, but a great read anyway.

He reminds me of G, actually. I wonder if G would have ended up sounding like him if G had not met me — the love of his life (or so I think) 🙂

 

Whoever Declared March as Women’s Month, I Wonder

“You asked me to explain myself. I just wonder what needs to be explained. Let me be very clear. Look into your own heart. I swear to you, mine’s no different. You want a place in the trades and professions where you can earn your bread? So do I. You want some means of self expression? Some way of satisfying your own personal ambitions? So do I. You want a voice in the government in which you live? So do I. What is there to explain?”

(Quoted from the movie, Iron Jawed Angels; spoken by Hilary Swank who played the role of militant suffragette, Alice Paul.)

A scene from the 2004 movie starring Hilary Swank. Image from proyouththpages.com

A scene from the 2004 movie starring Hilary Swank. Image from proyouththpages.com

***

The thing is … Alice Paul, many would disagree with you; and debate that there is much difference between the hearts and souls of men and women. For example, the fact that Ms. Universe 1994 Ms. Sushmita Sen was asked the inane question: “What is the essence of being a woman?” illustrates this fact. Nobody would dare to ask a man: “What is the essence of being a man?”  with the express intention of expecting the guy to answer that his main purpose in life is to produce and take care of the next generation of human beings.

Alice Paul, 1885-1977, a militant feminist in the tradition of Andrea Dworkin. She got imprisoned numerous times and worked her ass off so that women in her country could get the vote. I think she was kinda pretty, almost as pretty as Justin Trudeau. The difference between Justin and Alice is that Justin has Sophie; while Alice's lovelife was so private we do not even know about it.

Alice Paul, 1885-1977, a militant feminist in the tradition of Andrea Dworkin. She got imprisoned numerous times and worked her ass off so that women in her country could get the vote. I think she was kinda pretty, almost as pretty as Justin Trudeau. The difference between Justin and Alice is that Justin has Sophie; while Alice’s lovelife was so private we do not even know about it. Image from biography.com.

I suddenly remember you, Alice, because last March 8 was Women’s Day and I think just this week, we were celebrating Mother’s Day.

I do not want to malign motherhood, Alice — an institution without which, I wouldn’t exist. But the thing is, people have ennobled being a mother to such an extent that not being one or not wanting to be one raises the spectre of “aberration” towards someone.

I am sure a lot of our sisters are ambivalent about motherhood — even those who are mothers themselves. Of course they would never dare to tell their children (or even other people) of this ambivalence; that would be like taboo or sacrilege.

I wonder if there will ever be a time when fatherhood is also elevated in the same pantheon of “nobility” as motherhood. When a guy can be asked: “What is the essence of being a man?” and for us to expect him to answer that being a man is all about being a father.

That is when I will truly believe that the struggle of feminism has succeeded.

***

Justin and Barry -- my favorite feminists. It doesn't hurt that they also look good enough to eat. Image from news.yahoo.com

Justin and Barry — my favorite feminists. It doesn’t hurt that they also look good enough to eat. Image from news.yahoo.com

And because it is Women’s Month, I would like to have the privilege to objectify men.

Hence …

What can girls love more than guys who just scream “eye candy” — like Justin and Barry over here. Some have speculated on the budding bromance between these two world leaders 😉

***

Reading Lists:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-fix/wp/2016/03/10/the-budding-bromance-between-president-obama-and-canadas-justin-trudeau-in-11-great-pictures/?tid=sm_fb

http://www.kevinmd.com/blog/2016/03/heartbreak-dating-exhausted-medical-resident.html

http://www.vox.com/2014/12/15/7371737/rape-culture-definition

http://www.vox.com/2015/10/13/9523879/playboy-nudity-no

http://www.vox.com/2016/2/4/10877038/hitchhiking-woman-dangerous

Female Genital Mutilation More Widespread Than Previously Thought, UNICEF Says

 

How To Fake an Orgasm (or Orgasms, plural)

(Ana’s POV)

Image from strongafrocentricmindsets.blogspot.com

Image from strongafrocentricmindsets.blogspot.com

Meg Ryan gave you a general idea. And her performance should have earned her an Oscar if the Academy were all females.

Faking an orgasm is just like any other worthy endeavor. One has to perform it with sincerity to pull it off.

First, one has to know what an orgasm feels like to be able to fake one.

And yes, I have had it, thank you very much. A lot of girls haven’t though. Or they may be unsure, confused if they have had it or not. Believe me, girls, you will know. No ifs or buts about it.

Orgasms are like that perfect pair of strappy high-heeled shoes, they defy explanation. They fit your feet like a dream; they make you feel sexy and they don’t give you calluses afterwards. I haven’t found the perfect high heels yet. But I am optimistic that I will find one. Eventually.

Image from thefishybowl.wordpress.com

Image from thefishybowl.wordpress.com

So orgasms. Second of all, it’s not really about the penis-in-vagina. (Sorry lesbian friends; I can only talk  about the heterosexual perspective.) A girl can have an orgasm while washing dishes (although it is not advisable because one can drop a perfect piece of china and that would be a lousy day); or while watching Chris Pratt save the universe in a movie. One can have an orgasm in the shower (make sure you are using a bath mat so you won’t slip) or even in the library (the Reserve Section is a nice place because there are few people around; just make sure to tone down your vocalistic emissions). Still, the best place to have an orgasm is one’s bed preferably with someone you are madly in lust with. Please take note that one does not have to be in love to have the big O. Though, sex with a loved one belongs (in my opinion) in a different category of orgasms; or even a different category of sex.

I haven’t faked one with Christian (not that I know of). That would just entail too much work; requiring energy that I do not have inclination to expend. Besides, he knows me like the back of his hand so faking it with him will be like deceiving myself.

Image from mirror.co.uk

Image from mirror.co.uk

It is best to fake orgasms with a stranger or a new lover. However, a warning: faking it in the beginning of a relationship may doom that relationship even before it has started. If you can’t be honest with a man you are having sex with, what is the point of staying with him in the long term? Oh yeah, there is also money, power, security (emotional or otherwise) or self-deception. I get that girls — we gotta do what we gotta do. But then, don’t expect orgasms.

On a positive note, we don’t need orgasms  to live a meaningful life.

But it sure will be a life that is lot less fun 🙂