Merry Sunday, everyone!

It't's been a wild week south of the border. I don't think I want to comment though. What's left to say?

OK one thing.

There were a lot of comparisons with how those rioters (I don't know if terrorrist is the right word despite it being thrown around a lot) were treated in comparison with BLM protests in the previous months. Obviously it's fucked up. I'm sure there was some whispered, "I support you guys," as police "tried" to stop the seige on the U.S. Capitol. I'm sure some of that is race-based. I'm sure a lot of it is support for Trump.

But more than how the actual police handled the situation, the big thing was: there wasn't really a plan to stop the rioters—and that's a top-down directive. I don't know if the guys on the ground were actually told to, "let them in," but they certainly weren't told to "keep people out at all costs," which was definitely the directive when liberal protests were happening.

So all I'll say on that front is: sure, the police response was...poor. But short of shooting more people, I don't know how much they could have done with the resources they had. So yes, we can still use this as an opportunity to point out the disparate ways police treat white/black conservative/liberal people, I'm reluctant to make it solely about that. Blame those who decided against having proper security in place—because it absolutely was a concious decision, not just an oversight.

Is that a conspiracy theory? Considering I did no research, I suppose it is.

Moving on!

And getting way more lighthearted!

I want to talk about sex!

Or—I don't want to; but I want to want to. Make sense?

Stay with me.

We have a prudish society. (I know it's funny saying that when WAP was one of the top songs of 2020—but the fact that song raises any sort of flags proves the point.)

This thought stays on my mind as I read the fantasy series, Wheel of Time. It's a recurring trope in the series to comment on characters' bashfulness, where a race of nomadic people (the Aeil) are super free, and the characters we meet from that race are constantly surprised by how everyone else behaves. They're open with nudity, they share partners, they make crude jokes—they just don't really have any hangups.

And before I go any further, I just want to take a second to say: I'm not sitting here all free and liberated myself. I'm willing to bet I'm more uptight on the topic than most reading this. Not for any moral or religious or any reason—I just am. That might have something to do with the environment I was raised in or my Catholic schooling, but it's probably just that I was a late bloomer and spent my teens building sex into this huge deal.

But why is it a big deal? Why is it any different than getting a massage? Or having an honest and intimate conversation? Why is it in a league of its own? Why is there shame or embarrasment? Why is there so much pressure?

I suppose it is more intimate and vulnerable a thing than other things I'm comparing it to—but still: we've drawn a line where sex is this...other thing.

Maybe it changes the dynamic of some relationships—but why? We sure that's not a result of all this baggage?

I suppose when it leads to children it IS this other thing. But it's 2021, what percentage of sex is for having kids?

OK quick pause: as I'm writing this, I am acutely aware that a lot of people are far more relaxed and open than myself, and may be thinking sex ISN'T this other thing to them.

All right, you open to sharing your browsing history with the class? You happy to share allll the things you enjoy?

I think we should be OK with that! (Logically.) I'm happy to tell you how I like my steak cooked. I'll tell you all the little things that make a massage more enjoyable for me. But sex stuff—that's a way different conversation.

Why!? We're just talking about things we enjoy! Why is it different? I don't think it should be, but it sure as hell is! Why do we get so shy and embarrassed? For so many people: I bet one of the worst things imaginable is to have all those secrets revealed to the world. Why!?

How we treat those interests—whether favorite positions or kinks or roles or whatever—is a clear indication of how we feel about sex. Even if we say we're open about it...it's still a little different.

There's a point here: I think there are consequenes to these hangups. I think the secrets we keep can be a burden. I think they can be alienating. Sure, we joke about the how porn dominates the internet; we know how top-of-mind sex is for so many people (a study showed young men think about sex 19 times per day—more often than food—and young women 10 times)—but those facts are followed by nervous laughter that covers a certain...loneliness. Yeah, we know logically we're not alone, but then we kinda act like we are.

Imagine we only ate behind closed doors, or we couldn't talk openly about our work to anyone—maybe not even our partners. We'd feel estranged from those around us.

I reckon we do feel estranged—or, moreso than we ought to. I think how we deal with sex adds a barrier between us. 'Cause I mean, if you worry about your friends or family disowning you if they saw your browsing history—what does that say about how much you trust your friends and family?

All right, I think that's enough for today. And no, I'm not going to be the shining example of full transparency on this subject. I think the comments here are anonymous so I totally invite others to though! Might feel good to be open! Is that weird? Course it is.

For me: this little article is my contribution for now.

OK cheers, happy Sunday. Love ya.