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The present social construct in which we celebrate or condemn one another is not that unlike the Puritan world in which Hester Prynne had been so contemptuously reviled in Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter. The differences now lie, arguably, in the repercussions, and even then the similarities are not unseen.
Although we don’t imprison and publicly scold adulterers, and force them to forever embody their sin by bearing a mark of “shame”, it remains an unlawful iniquity.
Americans have long been thought of as prudish or puritan in our sexuality by other western cultures, specifically in Europe. The French are perceived by us to be rather impish or preternaturally sexual, with memoirs like The Sexual Life of Catherine M. providing a blazing example of this overt sexuality.
With the explosion of the porn industry in the last quarter of the 20th century, one could very well argue that Americans as a whole have accepted themselves as sexual beings and in doing so no longer harbor the puritan pangs of guilt that have oppressed society for centuries.
But every new generation invites an interpretation of oppression. Ours is no different, and in many senses, very similar to those who have come before us.
The level of self-righteous hypocrisy in our current oppressive state is higher than it has ever been. I guess that is also because sexuality has become more open than it has ever been. And on the same token, is still a characteristic of sin.
It is okay for men to be sexual, but not okay for women to be, unless in a committed relationship. The eternal double-standard.
Sharon Stone once said in an interview that “Hillary Clinton is fantastic. But I think it is too soon for her to run [for president]. This may sound odd, but a woman should be past her sexuality when she runs. Hillary still has sexual power and I don’t think people will accept that. It’s too threatening.” (On a side note, when is a woman ever “past her sexuality”? Is Sophia Loren? Is Ann-Margret?)
Men in positions of power are typically suave and exude a sexuality that is seen as strong and authoritative. Women in positions of power, are hardly even taken seriously, by both men and women, especially when they reveal a smidgen of sexuality. In Hillary’s case, (Sharon Stone’s opinion notwithstanding) even if they seem asexual.
But I understand Hillary’s stance on remaining staunchly asexual to the public. To exude any sexuality would be to destroy her credibility.
Younger women today have let their hair down, so to speak, probably more than any previous generation, even the hippies of the Summer of Love.
Yet the stigma of promiscuity still hangs over our heads, like the lone rain cloud that shadows a cartoon character, on an otherwise sunny, cloudless day.
In the movie Clerks, Dante is beside himself to learn his girlfriend has performed fellatio on 35 other men, him being number 36. The movie The Girl Next Door is the embodiment of every man’s dream come true. The beautiful, seemingly innocent “girl next door” is really a porn star waiting to fuck the hell out of you, AND, let you video tape it.
Trying not to generalize, most men will tell you that they want an angel in the kitchen and a devil in the bedroom. A sexy but sweet girl in public, a nasty and dirty whore in private. But at the very same time, want her to be virginal! God forbid her sexual prowess be directly causal to the amount of sex she’s had, especially when the amount of sex she’s had is indicative of the number of sexual partners she’s had.
Men are prided on how many girls they’ve fucked and forgotten.
But many women who “sleep around” do so knowing they’ll bear the number of partners they’ve had, much like Hester was punished to bear her adultery. Hester, however, made a silent mockery of the punishment she received, wearing her scarlet A for the rest of her life, turning it into a symbol of strength, becoming a martyr for “sin”.
The societal pressure to be ashamed should really lie with those who judge the lifestyle of others.
Cyber sex? That is so Nineties.
Cell phones have become our lifeline, our can’t-live-without-it indulgence. I bet you know many people (including yourself?) who feel lost, naked, disoriented, or disorganized, when they are without their cell phones. We constantly look at our phones; to check the time, to check for missed calls and/or voicemails, to check email. We check them out of pure habit with no intention at all, like an involuntary muscle spasm. Flip open, flip close.
Cell phones are like cars. The minute you buy one and walk out of the store, proud and ready to show it off to your friends, there is a cooler, newer phone on the market, and your brand new phone becomes a dinosaur in six months time or less.
Cell phones have also become our quickest link to the information highway. Google, Mapquest, hell, even Myspace.
But the best invention for cell phones has to be text messaging. And I think we can all agree. If you need to ask someone a question, or just want to say hi, but don’t necessarily want to converse, text.
Text messaging can be both bad and good for arguments. It lets you think before you “speak”, allowing careful consideration for the most spiteful comeback. Or, giving pause to avoid hurt feelings with a quick snide remark. It conveys emotion, in an emotionless way, which can be subject to interpretation, either creating a more hostile situation, or easing tense feelings. It can also help you save face, in an overly-emotional situation.
My favorite part of text messaging? I call it sex messaging. My phone is a flirtation device. Never have I been one to flirt aggressively (well, without blushing FURIOUSLY), but in the texting world it is no holds barred. Every sentence is copiously crafted to entice and amuse, with the occasional LOL to lighten the mood. I am the Jayne Mansfield of sex messaging.
I have had a few great “conversations” with a few different boys over the past year or so, and I’ve discovered that sex messaging is almost a sport, trying to one-up the other person in articulate innuendo. And the more you do it, the better it gets. Just like sex.
We are all guilty of it. I know I am not alone. You are reading this, smiling and laughing because you have done it too. Sent a saucy little tidbit you might never say aloud to someone. Or maybe you would. Maybe I’m just a prude… but maybe not 
Bryant and I sit outside of our work, on a bench, at least once a week, and catch up. It’s our routine. We can talk for hours, literally, about pretty random topics, that are always humorous and always relative to our lives.
Recently, one of our coworkers, and really good friend, found himself in a bit of trouble, and much of last night’s conversation revolved around that.
Bryant messaged me after I left last night (at 3:15 am, two hours of incessant chatter and laughter and tears later) with this…
No, not showering with hoes, I mean the way they bathe inmates; with a hose. I think that’s only if you’re doing hard time. Irvine jail is where they take the drunks and the drug offenders to try to get them to “straighten” up. It’s not hardcore like ‘the pen’ (penitentiary). Now if he was in there, you had better hope no inmates see him crying. Seriously though, the only thing that goes on in that jail is a bunch of fighting and some shit talkin’. You don’t get raped. Anyway, the weird thing is that you and I were talking about doing the things you love to do, but in moderation (like drinking, smoking, fucking, etc.). I remember *****’s name came up and I said ‘the key is moderation, don’t do too much of things you like doing, so that you can keep doing them, because in jail, you can’t do them.’ And now, look at what happened.
(The conversation in reference actually occurred a couple of months ago, before our friend’s inevitable misfortune. The sad irony obviously, is that our prediction, or premonition, came true.)
On a side note, I didn’t realize that fucking is something you should only do in moderation. Is fucking like a bad habit, and when you realize you’re an addict do you go to FA, Fuckers Anonymous? Can you really be arrested for having sex? Maybe it is possible, like a DUIO, driving under the influence of an orgasm… hmmm 
In all seriousness, please be careful. My friend got off pretty easy, if you think about it. He wasn’t hurt thank god, no one else was hurt, and he’ll only spend thirty days in a jail, that I hear, is more like a frat house.
Don’t get a DUI. And if you do, don’t put yourself in the position to get a second. As of January, California has implemented much stricter ‘no tolerance’ laws. Take a taxi, or walk your drunk ass home. Melisssss can’t always be there to save your ass, I’m too busy taking care of Spills (Well, not anymore!) Peace bitches, that’s all the lecturing I got in me.
