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Wednesday
Feb082012

My Klein Grid Score 

Klein Sexual Orientation Grid


I scored an average of 1.33

   
0 1 2 3 4 5 6
Heterosexual Bisexual Homosexual

 

Meaning

This result can also be related to the Kinsey Scale:

0 = exclusively heterosexual
1 = predominantly heterosexual, incidentally homosexual
2 = predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual
3 = equally heterosexual and homosexual
4 = predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual
5 = predominantly homosexual, incidentally heterosexual
6 = exclusively homosexual

Summary

The idea of this exercise is to understand exactly how dynamic a person's sexual orientation can be, as well as how fluid it can be over a person's lifespan. While a person's number of actual homo/heterosexual encounters may be easy to categorise, their actual orientation may be completely different. Simple labels like "homosexual", "heterosexual", and "bisexual" need not be the only three options available to us.

Take the quiz on Young Southampton

Friday
Jan202012

Ass Forensics 

Photo by Kholood Eid, for the Riverfront TimesThis picture was taken at the "No Pants Subway Ride St. Louis." I had the following conversation with the woman in the picture and just had to share. 

Me: I thought I recognized that ass.

Her: David, did you recognize the legs next to me? I never realized he had such big feet.

Me: I blame wide angle lens distortion. I don't think his calves are that developed either.

Her: Yeah, I thought the same thing about his legs. They look much manlier in this picture than in real life. Which only means my ass doesn't look as good either.

Me: Actually, you're further away from the edge of the frame which means your ass is less distorted than his legs. Of course, I'd have to see your ass in person again to determine the extent of the distortion. 
This is what all my college photography classes have come to: Ass Forensics.

Her: Ass Forensics ♥

Wednesday
Dec282011

Confronting My Friend’s (Alleged) Rapist

A photo from SlutWalk STL.

Hey what did you do last Wednesday? Me? Oh, not much. I went to work, wrote a post that went “Kinky & Popular” on Fetlife (the Fetlife equivalent of going viral). I went to see “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.” And, oh yeah, somewhere in there I confronted the man my friend accused of raping her.

Here’s what the two of them agree on. They were at a bar, drinking. They went back to his place and drank more. She asked if she could sleep it off there and slept in his bed.

Here’s where the stories differ. He says that she had been flirting with him all night, the sex was consensual and she was the aggressor. She says she passed out in his bed and woke up to him having sex with her (with no condom, just for good measure).

She told me the story shortly after it happened, back in July. I was very upset by it, but when I tried to get her to talk about it further, she balked and I didn’t press. A couple weeks later I attended SlutWalk STL. I spent the better part of twelve hours marching with and for sexual assault survivors and participating in workshops. Women I had only just met came to me with their stories of survival. One trend I noticed in these stories was a desire on the part of the survivors for their rapists (sometimes friends or family members, some of whom were sexual assault victims themselves) to acknowledge what had happened. Not to have them arrested, tried and sent to prison, but just to acknowledge that the incident occurred.  

I started thinking about my friend. Now I’ve heard a lot of rape stories from a lot of women. One thing all the previous stories had in common was that I didn’t know their rapists. I could just be a supportive friend and take them at their word, since I had no personal frame of reference for the men who’d raped them.

This was different. The man my friend was accusing of rape was someone I knew. We had lots of friends in common. We’d worked together on several projects in the past would definitely run into each other in the future. I wasn’t sure what to do; as a man, as a friend or as someone who presented himself as a sex-positive, anti-violence activist. Immediately after SlutWalk, I called my friend and asked if we could talk.

We met at a bar and I asked her to tell me the whole story and she did. I held her hand and she cried. I said I didn’t know how I would handle it if I ran into him. She asked me not to say anything about the incident until she had a chance to talk him and I agreed. In the meantime, I just tried to avoid him.  

A couple weeks later, a woman who had attended SlutWalk approached me at Shameless Grounds. She had wanted to discuss SlutWalk with me, but when she looked me up on Facebook, she had seen my friend’s alleged rapist on my friends list and that stopped her from contacting me. She’d had a (much less severe) negative experience with him and the fact that he and I were “friends” was enough to call me into question in her mind. I explained to her that he and I weren’t really friends and I wanted nothing to do with him.

That was July, 2011. I have successfully avoided this guy and have not brought up the incident again to my friend. But I have thought about it. Is it possible that my friend got drunk, initiated sex with this guy and didn’t remember it? Of course. But I know her pretty well and it doesn’t seem like her.  She and I have had sex in the past. I’ve had sex with her when she was drunk and when she was sober. The one time we had sex when she was drunk out of her mind, she remember everything the next day with no regrets.  There have been times when she was in a relationship and giving off strong monogamy vibes. She’d crash at my place, too drunk to drive herself home and we’d share a bed without so much as touching each other. So, I have a hard time with his version of the story.

Now to her alleged rapist. I am not unbiased. I have a long history with this man. While my friend is the first person to out and out say to me that he raped her, she’s not the first woman to come to me, unsolicited, with tales of his in appropriate sexual behavior. About fifteen year ago, my ex-girlfriend got drunk at a party and went to sleep on the living room couch of the host. The man in question tried to coax her into having sex with him and she refused, several times, but he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. You may ask why she didn’t just get up and walk away. She couldn’t walk. Added to which, the man in question was in between her and her wheelchair. She was sleeping on the first floor because of her inability to climb stairs. The man in question’s unwanted sexual advances were so persistent; the host of the party had to physically get in between them and carry my ex to one of the upstairs bedrooms.

My ex asked me to speak with him about it. Now, I should stress that she was no shrinking violet and was accustom to fighting her own battles. When I’d offered to intervene on her behalf in the past, she’d always said “no,” but this was serious enough for her to ask me to have words with the man. I found him at a bar and called him out. I told him to stay away from her and he did. This was in 1997.

Fast forward to December, 2011.

I got an email from my friend saying that she’d confronted him in a bar. She’d looked him in the eyes and said, “You raped me.” To which (according to her) he replied, “Well, that’s one way of looking at it.”  

I was hot! I went to a place where I knew he’d be and asked him to step outside. I told him to think long and hard about what had happened that night with my friend, and if there was any doubt in his mind that the sex had been consensual, that he should admit to her what he did, apologize and beg her forgiveness. And, I told him to have her tell me not to tell anyone about it, because if she didn’t, I would tell what he had done to anyone I saw fit. Just like the time, several years ago, when he’d heard that I’d had consensual sex with his ex-girlfriend, which he then repeated to many of our friends, regardless to the fact that it hadn’t happened. That fact that I would later have sex with his ex-girlfriend is beside the point.

All and all, it had been a surprisingly civil conversation. He seemed calm and reasonable for a man being accused of rape.

I got a text from him later that night. He said he’d apologized and tried to talk to her and she’d punched him in the face.

I also got a text from my friend with her perspective. She said that he had ambushed her at a bar with no warning (to be fair, that’s what I had done to him. But also, to be fair, I hadn’t raped him. And for the record, when I told him to talk to her, I was thinking maybe a phone call, first).  According to her, he apologized for “upsetting her” and said that he was sorry about “what she thought had happened.” She said she asked him several times to get away from her, but he insisted that they talk then and there and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer (see a pattern?), so she hit him. I’m not happy with how things shook out, but I won’t shed too many tears for my role in a(n alleged) rape victim getting to punch her (alleged) rapist in the face.   

After their altercation, I felt like I’d fucked up. I felt like I’d inserted myself out of ego and machismo and had made a bad situation worse. I felt better, however, when my friend sent me a text thanking me for having her back. Still not sure what the best course of action is in situations like this. What would you do? 

Monday
Dec262011

2011: The Year of the Hater

It seems like my haters are coming out of the woodwork lately. But here’s the funny thing: they’re not coming out of the woodwork to hate on me. They’re coming to wish me a happy birthday, ask about attending parties that I’m hosting and even to give me free t-shirts. I’m discovering that maybe I don’t have as many haters as I thought. I just hate a lot of people. So I guess that makes the biggest hater of all… me.

We have seen the haters and they are… us.

I’m not naïve. There’s a reason why many of the people I was formerly at odds with are going out of their way to be nice to me lately. My profile has risen in the past year (mostly due to my work with SEX+STL) and they want to be part of my life again. That doesn’t even bother me. It’s this revisionist history of acting like it’s all good between us when it isn’t. I would respect them more if they acknowledged the issues between us and tried to move beyond them, rather than pretend they didn’t exist. Why act like the elephant in the room isn’t an elephant in the room?

2011 has taught me how to deal with difficult people without sacrificing my dignity or decorum. I’ve learned that the best way to handle a hater is to be honest, direct and consistent; to know my facts and stick to them and to refrain from name-calling, editorializing and exaggerations. I wish my haters all the best, I honestly do and I give them credit when credit is due. Just because I don’t like someone doesn’t mean they’re always wrong. Even a busted clock is right twice a day.

I’ve also learned that, while I have my haters, a lot more people love me and even more respect me. And while it’s natural for the squeaky wheel to get the grease, I invest entirely too much time and energy on the small percentage of people that I’m at odds with. Like Kat Williams says, if you have 700 lovers, you’re bound to have 70 haters. That’s just your tithe.

So I have declared 2011, “The Year of the Hater.” And guess what, haters? Your 365 days of fame are almost up. May you and I find better things to do with our time in 2012.

“I’m so gifted at finding what I don’t like the most. So I think it’s time for us to have a toast.”

Big ups to all my haters!

Here’s a toast to all the men who’ve raped women I care about, those who will never see the outside of a prison wall (Hi Brandon!) and those still walking around free (you know who you are). May you learn the error of your ways and begin the long road to recovery in 2012. And mad respect to all the women who have survived your abuse and kept on moving.

Here’s a toast to the unfaithful wives in ostensively monogamous marriages who seek to use me to cheat on their husbands, and then kick dirt on my name when I don’t take the bait. May you and your husbands find good counseling or at least good lawyers in the new year.

Here’s a toast to those who question my integrity and have very little of their own. May you realize that you’re bringing a knife to a gunfight.

And finally, a toast to all those who talk shit about me behind my back. You really should Google me. Not only am I the easiest man to find in St. Louis, but I’m also my mother and my father’s son. I will run all up in your spot if I have to.

I’ve given my haters a lot of shit today. Seems like the least I can do is play them a song… 

 

Thursday
Dec082011

Monoga… Me? 

For the record, I have not had sex with any of these women.

For the first time in many, many years, I’m thinking about being monogamous. Don’t worry ladies; it’s not going to happen. Thinking about being monogamous for me is like contemplating suicide or the priesthood or becoming a certified yoga instructor. It’s nice to think about sometimes, but I know I’m never going to do it. What’s significant here is that I’m thinking about it at all, which puts me in a very different headspace than I’ve been in for most of my life.

Right now, I’m just not all that motivated to have sex with anyone beside my partner. Now, don’t get it twisted. If some strange fell into my lap, I’d hit it. That’s just how I roll. But when I think about the time and energy it would take to cultivate a new sexual relationship, even a casual one, I just think about spending that time with my partner instead.

I know what will probably happen: if I go too long only having sex with one person, I will eventually fuck someone else just to prove to myself that I still can. I know that sounds pathetic. It’s also honest, and not admitting it won’t make it any less true. For better or for worse, being polyamorous is part of my identity, both my public persona and the way I see myself.  For example, I’ll be teaching my Polyamory 101 workshop in Rhode Island this February.

I’ve been in relationships with intensely private people, people who didn’t want to be associated with the radical-sex side of my life. I’ve been relationships where the other party was cheating on their significant other. I’ve been people’s dirty little secret and I’ve had people who were my dirty little secret. I know what it’s like to see someone socially and pretend I’m not sleeping with them.

Now I’ve met the woman I want to spend my life with and we are totally public and open. It’s strange for me to be able to say that, four months in. I’ve had long affairs with people where our mutual friends never knew (or never acknowledged that they knew) about us.  Quiet as it’s kept, while I was off sleeping with everyone and her sister, I was often secretly jealous of couples (poly or not) who were genuinely in love and telling the world about it. Now I have that and the fear that it may implode in six months is not enough to keep me quiet about it.

I still hear the voice in my head that alerts me to every opportunity to sleep with someone new, at the moment I’m just not listening.