Tried to see Keith Knight's latest strip at Salon, and was told it was Premium Content. And allowed to view it only after obtaining a Day Pass/cookie by sitting through a four-page Mercedes advert.
I don't even remember which model it was for, but eh. I loves that strip.
This also means I got to read Charles Taylor's glowingly enthusiastic review of "The Good Vibrations Guide to Sex," Salon.com Sex | Finally -- a great sex manual!
To understand the importance of what Winks and Semans have done in "The Good Vibrations Guide to Sex," I ask you to indulge me in a digression and an attempt to place all the varieties of unnecessary sexual guilt in their societal context. And to do that we have to be willing to acknowledge one simple truth: All the talk about our explicit, sexually open society is horseshit. Plain and simple. Horseshit. We are in the midst of a continuing public health crisis and we are still debating whether to provide people at risk with the most basic, lifesaving information. Condom manufacturers cannot get their products advertised on broadcast networks. We are living in a time when theocrats who would be more suited to living under the Taliban than in a free society have the unmitigated gall to call themselves "pro-life" when they push policies that will inevitably result in death, either for women who can't obtain abortions (poor women, of course, since the rich will always have medically safe options) or kids who can't obtain information about birth control.
Suppose some might feel a book review -- especially one about a sex manual -- is no place for political discussion.
These people aren't paying attention.
And tend to drive their Mercedes while chatting on their cell phones.
Oh, and I didn't notice that reference to abortion in the quote, or the nigh-class-warfare context in which it was mentioned, or I wouldn't have quoted that bit, would I? Seeing as I'm Not Talking About That.
Update: How terribly convenient.
What U.S. papers say about abortion, compiled by United Press International, with quotes from the New York Times, Boston Globe, Seattle Post-Intelligencer. . .
Update 2: How terribly convenient.
You can order The Good Vibrations Guide to Sex: The Indispensable Companion to a Happy and Healthy Sex Life from Powell's Books (I'd considered, and tossed, the notion of linking the title to Amazon, having heard yet more unflattering things about 'em lately), along with the R. Gay-approved collection Unruly Appetites, by someone I really owe at least one email at this point. . .
Thanks for pointing that article out; I missed it on my morning skim of Salon. Now I just need to go buy the book!
I can't help with snicker to see a review prefaced with "Finally!" of a book which has been around now for almost ten years.
Good to see that Salon is scooping as well as ever.
Makes your little journalistic heart proud, don't it?
may i refer you to a previous comment that i think that heather should be our new sex ed czar for the surgeon general's office, and that 3 foot x 5 foot posters of y'all makin' whoopie should be plastered in junior high "social living" classrooms across america. i'd even go so far as suggesting that a picture of you two makin' out go on a new US dollar bill, but that's a whole 'nuther battle.
sometimes our political establishment makes me think of the michael moorcock fantasy novels about dorian hawkmoon battling against the evil empire of granbretan, who went into battle waving flags that said "death to life!"
good vibes is not only a good publisher, they are a great store (SF, is it still on valencia?). one of the best customer service experiences i have ever had in my entire life.
Well, bless your heart.
But Aaron is shy, you know.
:P
(And yes, Good Vibes is a wonderful, wonderful place, and I do believe it's still right there.)
For the record, while perusing some oh-so-terribly-not-wonderful abstinence sites with Aaron via messenger this afternoon, I decided I may need to create some counter-propaganda for the "Not Me, Not Now," people.
Me.
Now.
Right here on this table.
r@d@r, I was in SF for business about a year ago, and with the lovely and talented Neo as my fellow-pilgrim, I got to go the the Good Vibes store. It was pretty cool. And while Neo had the map and the map-skills, I do think it's still on Valencia.
I managed to keep from spending on anything, which was good, given the thoroughness with which my luggage was publicly searched at the airport the next day. All I had was a carry-on bag, and I'm pretty certain that a mere four months after 9-11, that cat o'nine would definitley have been considered a weapon.
In theory one could bludgeon someone pretty good w/a pyrex dildo- those things have some weight to'em.
But, Heather, weren't you [fairly] recently mentioning unintentionally titillating/discomfiting airport personnel?
[Nothin better on a Thurs am than tradin zany airport stories...]
Just for the record, I take enormous bags chock full of sex toys and BDSM gear through airport security on a fairly regular basis in my role as Itinerant Sex Educator. I've had to explain what a few things were, I've had a few rather interesting ordeals with things I forgot to take the batteries out of after a show-and-tell that went off while the bag was being searched and the bomb squad was nearly called in, and I've once missed my plane because a security guard refused to believe me that a metal vaginal speculum wasn't some kind of weapon... but it's really not too high-stress.
I'd rather take a lot of sex toys through security or through customs than have to take a lot of prescription medication through. I was once in line in Canada-to-US border hand search behind a woman who was carrying a lot of experimental medication and who was apparently in a meds study for a new chemotherapy procedure, and they were just *awful* to her about every single vial, bottle, and syringe, despite the fact that she had plenty of documentation.
Besides. It's good for security and customs agents to get a good look at a few big dildo collections and a handful of floggers now and then. It helps them realize that it's really pretty normal. I figure a security guard is much less likely to harrass a woman carrying a Pocket Rocket or something after he's dealt with going through my Enormous Yellow Toolbox packed with things like vampire gloves, Seven Gates of Hell and other CBT gear, enough clips and clamps to outfit an office supply store, and pretty much every pervertable you can buy at a Home Depot. 'Specially because I can and will explain, in exhaustive, professorially enunciated, well-projected educational detail, what every single item is used for and how it works, if I'm asked.
After all, that's my job. I'm a sex educator. After one or two items, they usually shove everything right back in the bag and wave me through. Works like a charm.
Oh, and for the record, there are now 3 GV stores in the Bay Area: Valencia at 23rd, one in Berkeley on San Pablo and Dwight, and a new one that's opening up in the City at Polk and Sacramento.
Screw well water. When the shit goes down, I'm hoofing it to Hanne's. hahahaha