Earth Girls Are Easy


Or: Why does bigotry keep getting into my porn?

Like so many people in the modern world I have a Tumblr account. It’s not a particularly well curated one. If you want to see mine, well, all you’ll really get is very sporadic reblogs of collections of gifs that probably give you waaay too much insight into what turns me on. Tumblr is not my chosen form of self-expression.

It is, however, an excellent platform for creating a carefully tailored near-infinite stream of porn. It’s fantastic, the perfect thing for single-handed laptop or smartphone browsing except…excpet, there’s this one thing.

People on Tumblr are awful. Not in the horrible trolling abuse sort of way but more like those people you occasionally meet at parties. They say hello and you get chatting and they seem reasonably affable. The evening wears on and you find yourself engaging with them and enjoying their company. There’s the occasional slightly odd moment but hey, that’s fine, you probably just mis-heard… And then it all suddenly changes. The conversation shifts or they quietly confide in you that actually they voted UKIP at the last election. And that’s it, they’ve got you. It’s the worst kind of honey trap. You feel soiled, tainted. No matter how quickly you extricate yourself or how vocally express your non-endorsement of their political world view they’ve got you. It stings, deep inside, because you, for a while at least, liked them.

So it goes with Tumblr. The really hot blog you found that delivers just the right sort of filth comes through, except every now and then there’ll be something… else.

For example, I like me some femdom porn. Lot’s of it is very sexy stuff, and I kind of like some of the things that have captions, little stories or ideas that make the head go *poof* in just the right way. Except sometimes it won’t come out like that. Instead of sexy and dangerous it shoots off into a monologue extolling how all men are inherently inferior worms. Then I’m suddenly not aroused anymore I’m lost somewhere between angry and pitying.

But at least it’s better than when my feed is pouring casual racism onto me. I mean, I guess I can understand why there’s a bit of an overlap between cuckold fetishes and interracial fetishes. And I’m not going to say there’s anything wrong with either (a fantasy is a fantasy) it’s just not for me. And I’m sorry if this means I judge you, fellow tumblr user, but I’ll admit, those moments are not me at my best, most placid, accepting and non-judgmental. I judge the shit right then, but mostly I judge me.

Despite what it sounds like I’m really not setting out to criticise anyone’s kink. Just express that weird discomfort where you find yourself agreeing with an affable bigot at a party… and by agreeing I mean coming… and by dinner party I mean… you get the idea.

Photo credit: “On Top of The World” by Jeffrey

Picking Your Battles

I just came home from a wedding. It was a lot of fun and everyone there had a very nice time.

Amongst the many and varied conversations of the weekend (including someone inserting lyrics into the Jurassic Park theme) was a conversation that bugged the crap out of me; to the extent that I walked away from it. I’m not even kidding, I full on walked away, even clambering out fo my chair in order to do so. The conversation, perhaps unsurprisingly, was about rape.

I had made a comment about the rape conviction statistics being appalling. The man on the other side of the table took a certain amount of umbrage about this.

“But I know somebody who was falsely accused!” he said.

“Oh my goodness!” I said, “You have anecdotal evidence, I immediately revert my opinions.”

What followed was  a strained couple of minutes wherein he attempted to convince me of the absolute legitimacy of his friend’s story, along with sweeping generalisations about “feminists”.

I walked away.

Now, to be clear; I’m not saying that false accusations don’t happen, or that instances of rape shouldn’t have the burden of proof established under criminal law. But it’s the wrong conversation to be having. Not only that, but I’ve ended up having precisely the same wrong conversation ten years ago. Ten years!

It’s an age old piece of wisdom that the one who picks the battlefield will be the victor. You can see this time and again in politics (and why the ‘rise’ of UKIP played into an election victory for the Conservatives). So by even engaging in a conversation about false accusations, the argument is skewed in the favour of anyone wanting to make a point about feminazis, false accusations as and generally turning a blind eye to one of the most frequently unprosecuted crimes in the country.

It’s not that there isn’t a place for such discussions, but they presume a conversation has already been had, that prosecution of rape is treated justly and fairly, and that some new allowance should be made for those who are wrongly convicted. But the time for that is not now. And until it is I will continue to walk away from conversations like that. Maybe in another decade, I most sincerely hope so.