While it might seem somewhat counterintuitive to many ErosBlog readers, I don’t spend all that much time with porn.

Oh, some, certainly. In the wide world of erotic materials there are many things that I find appealing. There are many other things that are not all that appealing. Should I come across something appealing, I might spend some time with it, and if I can think of something that strikes me as clever to say about it, I’ll write a post for ErosBlog. If it doesn’t appeal, I move on to something else. There’s plenty to do in life. So, rarely does such consumption take up a very large part of any given day, and it takes up no part of many other days. Certain other porn-relevant activities, like work on a piece of eros-heavy fiction that I hope will eventually see the light of publication in some form, take up some hours more (after all, I do try to practice what I’ve preached before), but it is still not a huge commitment of time.

So why am I writing for ErosBlog, trying to find nice things to say about the enterprise of which it is a part? That’s the subject for today’s Sunday sermon.

There are personal reasons, of course. Bacchus is an old friend, and it is a pleasure and a privilege to have been invited to contribute here. I like digging into my library and coming up with curiosities to spread around the world; they are sources of wry enjoyment for me and I hope they will be for others, as well. There’s also a little spark of happiness — known to every writer — at seeing my byline, even if it is just a nom de blog.

But there’s something else, more fundamental than the reasons above.

At the core of what I value in life is a kind of mental freedom. Freedom of the imagination. Freedom of the intellect. Freedom to create, and to enjoy what we have created. If you don’t share this value, then what I feel for you is not hatred, nor even contempt. Something more like pity seems appropriate, because you are misguidedly disdaining one of the best things sentient existence has to offer.

Now, where freedom of the imagination is concerned, porn is the hard case. The creation and consumption of porn exercises such freedom in a very fundamental way. “Porn dreams of eternal fires of desire, without fatigue, incapacity, aging, or death,” as Camille Paglia once so memorably put it. Since porn is connected with pleasure, and pleasure (if it is not to become stale) is intimately connected to innovation, in porn the imagination lives and lives hard. (You! Up there in the upper gallery! Stop your snickering! This is serious.)

That being so, there’s a lot of hate directed at the particular exercise of freedom called “porn.” There are plenty of people out there who would like to see it crushed, or, if not crushed, then forced to live in a ghetto of despised and proscribed content. But why should I worry? Even if the anti-porn people get their way, my life will worse, but not unbearably worse. There would still be plenty to do in life.

But there’s a problem. As a consequence, perhaps, of letting my own intellect and imagination run free, I have formulated my own rather naughty opinions, which, while they aren’t particularly pornographic, certainly seem to piss off a lot of people. For example, I am a freethinking atheist, and atheists may well be a small minority (in the United States, anyway) to which attaches even more negative animus than attaches to gays and lesbians. Atheism alarms and appalls lots of people who are loud and proud about their own confessional allegiances, but who expect me to be as silent as can be about my lack of same.

Beyond my religious view, I have my own share of still stranger views, such as wanting, like Oxford philosopher Nick Bostrom, to be posthuman when I grow up — so much so that I would regard my own existence as a dismal failure if this possibility were to be blocked, for humanity at least if not necessarily for me personally. Posthumanity is an aspiration which has already alarmed and appalled plenty of folks both left and right, and I fear the day cannot be far off when there are people who want not just to halt the march of technology toward the achievement of posthumanity, but to eradicate the very ideas out of which the desire to be posthuman grows.

I have some additional ideas which are still stranger than either atheism or posthumanism, and which will probably alarm and appall people all the more. Sounds like a blog in the making, but that’s a project for another day. Let me return to the subject at hand.

The analogy between my position and that of the pornographer should be clear. There are a lot of people who want to crush porn because porn alarms and appalls them. Once the principle is established and precedent is set that “what alarms and appalls (even if it does not harm) us, we may crush,” my own future will not be bright at all.

I never want to find myself — whether on Earth or in Hades — beginning a lament that starts like this:

“First they came for the pornographers, and I was silent, because I wasn’t much of a pornographer.”

So I am proud to write here out of solidarity. As one of the most noble of all Americans once said, we must hang together, for if we do not, we shall surely hang separately.

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