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The Sex Blog Of Record
Wednesday, July 6th, 2022 -- by Bacchus
Here’s a panel that’s been circulating on the internet for near as long as there’s been an internet. It’s one of those smutty vintage comic book panels that’s funny in part because of our unquestioned assumptions about the past: either those old-time fools were so dumb they missed their own double entendres, or their ancient circumstances were so laughably innocent that what’s smutty today didn’t raise an eyebrow back then. For the record, I think both of those assumptions are generally likely to be false. Artists, to coin an apt phrase, like to take the piss. And always have done.
This panel is from Action Comics #337, in a story called “The Green Sun Supergirl”. The golden shower is a healing rain, people! Sure it is. No doubt that’s what inspired this garish and loving and obsessively-luscious scan-and-trace-and-recolor restoration by an unknown fan who loves Supergirl as much as he loved him some golden showers:
You know when I said artists have been taking the piss (so to speak) since forever by painting fetish stuff with the thinnest and not-at-all waterproof veneer of innocence? I’m not kidding about the “forever” part. Perhaps you will remember the long ago post I did about the mythology of Zeus, Danae, and the conception of Perseus. The myth is that Danaë was locked in a basement so Zeus sent down a rain of gold coins, which operated rather more like his vital essences inasmuch as they made the young lady quite preggers. Take another look at those artworks, and this one, dating in one case all the way back to 450 BC, and then come tell me that the artists weren’t quite knowingly using mythology to figleaf their gleeful fetish explorations.
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Friday, October 15th, 2021 -- by Bacchus
Seriously, Twitter? Are you fuckin’ with me?
Of course there’s only one person this could be about. You know it, I know it, nobody on twitter needs to click. But I did. And of course it was the former guy, per the Daily Beast:
Top GOP operatives and U.S. senators were in attendance for Trump’s speech at the National Republican Senatorial Committee where he lauded himself as the savior of the party. “It was a dying party, I’ll be honest. Now we have a very lively party,” he told them. [I]n a bizarre and unprompted tangent, he addressed unsubstantiated claims about what he did with prostitutes in Moscow before his presidency. “I’m not into golden showers,” he reportedly told the crowd.
With this mope, the unsolicited denial is the confession, every time.
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Sunday, December 30th, 2018 -- by Bacchus
There’s a lot I don’t know about Annie Sprinkle, and you may not either. For instance, did you know that she used to publish a watersports/pissing ‘zine called The Sprinkle Report? I found this announcement for it in the August 1981 issue of Adult Cinema Review:
The rather precious blurb reads:
Urinationalists, welcome to the main stream! With the publication of Annie Sprinkle’s first Tinkle Report, your beloved hobby finally has a quality scholarly journal. Annie’s new newsletter, printed beautifully on beautiful paper, should be to the Golden Shower set what fire hydrants are to Golden Retrievers — an absolute must. Kinky pix, potty poetry, and art that’s strictly #1 make this a fund to read publication…
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Wednesday, January 11th, 2017 -- by Bacchus
Today seems like a fine day to examine the rich artistic tradition surrounding the conception of Perseus. Are your umbrellas ready? Good!
It’s a long story, but the short version is: Danaë was locked in a basement by her father (for reasons) but got impregnated anyhow by Zeus, who appeared to her as a shower of gold coins. (Apparently the almighty Zeus had somehow internalized a “chicks dig gold, right?” philosophy of seduction.) The resulting scene has proved to be very popular with artists from every age.
The painting at the top of the post is by Léon François Comerre. This next one is by Alexander Sigov, and the one after that is by Gustav Klimt. At the bottom of the post is artwork from a Greek vase circa 450 BC that’s now in the Louvre.
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Tuesday, November 16th, 2010 -- by Bacchus
Whatever they pay Emily Nagoski to be a sex educator, it’s not enough.
She starts with a definition: sex is “an evolutionarily adaptive reproduction strategy involving the recombination of two individuals’ genes.”
Friends, and I’m telling you straight: present that definition to me and I WOULD NOT CLICK THE LINK. Fuck no. Boring city.
But she unpacks it, explains it, walks it through gametes and peafowl and Alfred Kinsey and busy bonobo apes and her own beloved twin sister until she’s completely explained it, not only how that dry biology definition is sex, but why it’s the definition that explains not only romantic love but also every kind of kink you ever heard of:
And thus humans come with our ball gags, golden showers, foot fetishes, Catholic school girl fantasies, whips, cages, breath play, sensation play, group sex, monogamy, polygymy, polyandry, jealousy, gays and lesbians and bisexuals and asexuals and queer folks and folks who don’t claim any identity and transfolks, and LOVE ITSELF — and also assault, abuse, rape, pedophilia, and wide and daunting array of harmful uses to which we put sex, all the dazzling and heartbreaking variety we witness in humanity — vast, limitless. As Kinsey said, “The only unnatural sex act is one you can not perform.”
It’s the joyful work of a skilled professional. You really ought to go go see.
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