Carnal Embrace

I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time in front of the TV lately. No longer on the prowl for sex and no longer buried in yet another Shakespeare play/masterpiece/torture trap, I have too much free time on my hands. Hello, my name is Christine, and I’m a TV-holic.

I’ve watched ads, too. A few in particular caught my eye, especially one that even The New York Times bothered to mention. If you’ve been watching network television, you probably know the one I’m talking about.

The commercial opens in a bar, filled with pigs and women. Immediate joke: Men are pigs. Well, men without condoms, that is. One pig is trying his luck with a lady, but no dice, so he leaves to buy a condom from the restroom dispenser. Presto change-o! He becomes tall, dark and handsome, and the lady at the bar smiles at the new man. The tag? “Evolve,” says Trojan. “Use a condom every time.”
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Pornography has such a bad name, which, I realize now, isn’t that surprising in a country founded by Puritans. I’m not talking about the objectification of women or fantasized rape scenes or even eroticized “trannies.” I mean all things sexually arousing, anything that’ll fit under the dictionary definition.
Of course, because pornography depends on its engagement with its viewer, its definition is not entirely objective. However, “pornography” can function as a blanket term as that thing that puts a sch-wing in your step. According to the American Heritage Dictionary, pornography includes “sexually explicit pictures, writing or other material whose primary purpose is to cause sexual arousal.” Or, as Justice Potter Stewart said of obscene material: “I know it when I see it.”

The problem is, who’s to know? Who can decide the “primary” purpose of any material? That’s a subjective decision, even if you ask the producers of the material. They may not see the arousal factor or even intend to create it, but it can be there for many other people. This primary purpose clause is a sticky situation.
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If you haven’t heard of Craigslist yet, there might be no hope for you. Every college student needs Craigslist, whether you’re looking for textbooks, free furniture, housing or some lovin’. Craigslist isn’t just for the school year.

If you’re bored at home, if masturbation’s lost its charm, if you think cruising is passe, Craigslist is your best friend when it comes to romance. The site offers free personal ads, and it certainly doesn’t discriminate. You have heard the allegations against eHarmony, haven’t you?

While Craigslist isn’t the classiest option—it doesn’t have the allure of Nerve, Salon or even JDate—it is free and possibly the best way to find no-strings-attached sex, if that’s what you want. You just have to craft a good personal ad and know how to weed out the weirdos.
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I’m OK with a little nip and tuck if the body gets saggy, but sometimes you have to draw the line with plastic surgery. Some of us may want boobs like Barbie’s or lips like hers, but a Barbie vagina is out of the question. Come to think of it, she doesn’t even have one, poor girl.

Yesterday, the San Francisco Chronicle featured a story on the G-Shot in its style section. Now I get to be angry, yet again, with the nexus of sex and technology.

Technology is not necessarily an evil when it comes to sex. Think sex toys and high-definition porn, for example. Both are good, for the most part. When coupled with psychological problems, however, sex and technology don’t make such a good match.

Let me explain this whole G-Shot business.
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