The 50 Worst Sex Scenes in Cinema

IFC and Nerve have come together to pronounce "The 50 Worst Sex Scenes in Cinema." That's a lot of bad sex. Some choices I agree with, and some I don't. I don't get why "Irréversible" is #3. Harrowing? Maybe. Bad? No. "9 Songs" is #16. Since the actors were really having sex, does that make it a bad sex scene--or just bad sex? "Savage Grace" is #33. I haven't yet seen this movie, about the incestuous relationship between Barbara Daly Baekeland and her son, but just reading about it is stomach-turning: "No amount of prayers to the God of Timely Editing will cut short the squirmy agony, and when Barbara finally finishes, she's upset to learn that poor Tony didn't orgasm, so she beats him off until he does." And "Hollow Man" is #42. But it should be higher. Invisible man rapes woman. 'Nuff said.

Why Me, God?

I love this video in which Sarah Jessica Parker reveals that she would rather stab her eyes out than talk explicitly about sex. I share this, in a way. Sure, I have chatted up scat pornographers, waded into bukkakes, and watched people hump on firetrucks, but I pretty much never, ever talk about my own personal sex life. With one exception--today.

The other day, I watched the 2008 MTV Movie Awards. That night, I had a dream. The dream was about me. And Mini-Me. And it was sexual. Did I mention I'm 6'2"? Now, I am going to kill myself.

And that's why I don't blog about my sex life.

Best Selling Porn Scribe Bites Back

Earlier today, New York's culture blog, Vulture, ran an item about running into porn legend Ron Jeremy at BookExpo America. Jeremy expounded at length upon his best-selling autobiography, Ron Jeremy: The Hardest (Working) Man in Showbiz, now in paperback, particularly that it was a bestseller.

Jeremy opines book publishing is a harder business to understand than porn, declares he beat Jenna Jameson in European book sales, and disses his ghostwriter: "[Jenna Jameson] gets Neil Strauss, and I get Eric Spitznagel. He got a lot of stuff wrong. We were delayed by one year, the things he got wrong."

Spitznagel is a Reverse Cowgirl pal, so I shot him on email on the matter. His response follows.

"I don't recall the book being delayed for a year because of factual errors. From my memory, it was delayed because Ron was too busy hosting wet t-shirt contests and signing tits at strip clubs to meet with his ghostwriter. He was also unamused that I decided to write the book rather than, say, just transcribe his long, rambling monologues word for word, directly from the tape.

I do remember that he wasn't pleased with my first draft. He thought my version of events placed a little too much emphasis on his porn career.

'Every page is just sex, sex, sex,' he yelled at me. 'Why does it all have to be about sex?'

'Well, you're a porn star, Ron," I reminded him. 'I'm pretty sure that's what people are expecting.'

'What about my work with PETA?' He suggested. 'Can't we include a chapter about that?'

'Unless you fucked a sheep, I don't think anybody cares.'

I sincerely apologize to Ron for not being Neil Strauss. But honestly, I suspect that even Strauss would've been flummoxed with instructions like 'less stories about the Golden Age of porn, more stories about hanging out with Mickey Rourke and Frank Stallone.' I stand by my decisions, even if they weren't popular at the time. If I didn't argue with Ron, there would've been no mention of his ability to self-fellate, or that he was once involved in a 14 women gangbang and somehow didn't have a heart attack. Instead, the book would've had at least sixteen more stories about how Slash is a close, personal friend of his and, like, totally respects him. Ron may feel like he was shafted, but I like to believe I made the world a better place."

Start Your Morning Off Right With Le Le's "Breakfast" Video

Cruising the webternets this weekend, I came across this newish animated smut-hop video from Le Le: "Breakfast." Man, this is some good shit! And what a way to start off a day. If you listen to it, you have to promise to get up and dance and shake your booty a bit. Really, it will change your perspective on life. I know it worked for me.

Who's Le Le? (Pronounce it like "the the.") They describe themselves as "French pop / Ghettotech / German pop." I say anybody whose music includes the line "I see you over there, talking to Jean Pierre Le Douche" is number one in my book. The video itself, which I found on Submarine was created by band member Piet Parra who's an amazing visual artist and whose style I love.

In an interview about making the video, Parra said: "And I’m really happy you guys are picking up the video clip for 'Breakfast' because it’s been flagged on youtube. Someone thought it was inappropriate. It’s really very irritating. The same thing happened with our 'Skinny Jeans' video clip. So it seems someone out there does not like us. It’s kind of funny. But whatever, I guess the lyrics are slightly crazy, if someone finds that offensive, well, they are most likely Americans."

Bonus Reverse Cowgirl lifetime points if today you tell your significant other: "Bitch, you breakfast."

Bruce Sterling on Sex Scandals

You may have seen this Bruce Sterling post via Boing Boing, but it's worth pointing out here. Sterling says sex scandals are centipedes.

"'Centipedes' are covert conspiracies meant to drive politicians from power by creating moral panics. Centipedes have the same dynamics as modern terror-groups, but they exploit sexual scandal instead of bloody mayhem. Centipedes are a cheap, highly effective, low-risk, highly-mediated method of political destabilization."

Interesting. And appropriately phallic.

I thought this centipedal (is that a word? Well, it is now) aspect was particularly accurate:

"I. A ferocious and salacious public that stampedes at the thought that politicians have illicit sex just like they do."

Just like you.

Sex Writers Speak

So, as I noted last night, my "Sex and the City: The Movie"-related story, "Those Dirty Girls," is online on Salon. I think the most interesting part of the piece is pretty much everything that Susie Bright, the original sexpert, said.

Bright: "[Y]ou know what I feel like? I feel like Trotsky when Stalin airbrushed him out of all the pictures of the Russian Revolution. I feel like the revisionist version of the sexual liberation movement is so stupid and shallow."

I was born and raised in the Bay Area, and Susie Bright was a huge influence on me. She was the reigning sexual intellectual, and I can't imagine that I'd do what I do the way I do it if it weren't for her. When I interviewed her for the story, she talked about how "Sex and the City" had commodified the Sex Revolution 3.0. And she's right. But if we've come a long way, baby, when it comes to sex, Bright has played no small part in that.

Working on a story like this is always interesting. I had a great time talking to Jamye Waxman, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Lena Chen, and Tracie Egan. Egan, I think, is really somebody to watch out for because she doesn't hold back, and that's what this racket is all about, isn't it?

I interviewed one another person for the story, but I ended up not including her in the final piece. That was Emily Gould, whose image spent last weekend spread across the cover of the New York Times Magazine. Since then, everybody's picked apart her anti-paean on blogging. When I talked to her, I asked her if she regretted blogging about her personal life.

"Didn't you read my story?" she retorted in a tone that sounded a lot like, "Don't you know who I am?"

I pointed out that it was hard to know what to think when she had exposed herself all over again by writing the Times story.

She said she guessed I had a point.

Sex and the City Poll

If you read this blog via RSS, I've got a poll in the right-hand sidebar. The question is: "Are you going to see 'Sex and the City: The Movie'?" Right now, "I would rather have actual sex" is leading by a mile.

My "Sex and the City" Story for Salon Is Online

My "Sex and the City" story, "Those Dirty Girls," for Salon is now online. I've got more to say about the piece, but it's late, and I'm tired. I'll write more on this, and what it was like to talk to Susie Bright, who was a big influence on me when I was coming of age in the Bay Area, on Friday.

"To make her point, Bright references a recent New Yorker essay, 'The Fall of Conservatism' by George Packer, in which Pat Buchanan paraphrased social theorist Eric Hoffer: 'Every great cause begins as a movement, becomes a business, and eventually degenerates into a racket.' Comments Bright: '"Sex and the City"' is the racket part of what once was recognizable as the sexual self-emancipation of the feminist movement.' For her, the commodification of the 21st century female sexual revolution hits too close to home."

Mr. XLARGE & Mrs. SMALL

Art by Cowper Wang via Beautiful and Depraved.

Best Sex Blogs 2007

Every year, the entire internet eagerly awaits my Best Sex Blogs 2007 list. Well, not really. This is its first year. Apropos of nothing, here are a few of my favorite sex and sex-themed blogs in no particular order.

Confessions of a College Callgirl: The title of this blog says it all. Heartbreakingly honest posts from a former sex workers who tells the truth of what it's really like to work inside the American sex trade.

Sexerati: Melissa Gira is the sex writer of the future. Somebody get her a PhD in sexology. Her smart, savvy writing moves your mind.

Sex and Blogs: The go-to clearing house for all things sex-related. If you only go to one sex blog a day, go to this one. And then go to mine.

PonyXpress: If you wanna ride a sex blog, ride the PonyXpress. This cacophony of sexy pix 'n' erotic links has the kind of edgy approach to sex you don't get in America. Because we're retarded.

The Pussy Ranch: Not a sex blog. Stripper-turned-screenwriter Diablo Cody gives readers a peek at her life in the glamorous lane.

The Daily Siege: There but for the grace of God goes Siege's sex blog. Here, photographer Clayton Cubitt exposes his life in front of the lens in exquisitely beautiful, eye-popping detail. Not for the faint-o-heart.

J. Orlin Grabbe: Who is J. Orlin Grabbe? I have no idea. But if you like your quantum physics with pix of nekkid chix, he's your man.

Ashley Blue: Just read it.

Fluffy Lychees: Mr. Fluffy takes all things sexual--photos, art, commentary--puts them in a blender, and creates a visually stimulating tour through sexuality in the new millennium.

Indie Nudes: The master. The legend. A god among sex blogs.

The New Sex and the City?

A few weeks ago, I read that Darren Star, who created "Sex and the City," has a new project in the works at HBO: "Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl." The comedy series to be is based on the semi-autobiographical book of the same name by Tracy Quan. The series of confessional stories about life as a hooker in New York City started as a Salon column. Now, it may become the next "Sex and the City"--but racier. The show will "look at how power, sex and money collide through the eyes of a group of Manhattan's highest-paid escorts forced to juggle their johns, jobs and relationships." That reminded me that earlier this year, Laurenn McCubbin announced that Rent Girl, Michelle Tea's memoir of life as a sex worker, was optioned by Showtime. Apparently, whores are the new black.

The Company Whore

A few weeks ago, in a two week period, two multi-billion dollar media companies, and, to be clear, I use the term "multi-billion dollar" literally, not figuratively, got to talking to me for a variety of reasons or the other about taking me, or what I do, or the Reverse Cowgirl, mainstream, or monetizing it, or something like that. This was, as these things are, flattering, although, to be clearer, I use the term "flattering" to mean, at this later date, a recipe for insanity. Life is never clear, is it? No, it is not. And yes, that was a rhetorical question. In any case, at the same time, I had a big "something" out, in that "it" was "being read" by "some people," and the entire situation, in which I felt I needed to appear to be "less porny" for one multi-billion dollar company while appearing "more porny" for another multi-billion dollar company, while appearing "something else yet to be determined" for another multi-billion dollar company, to be unpleasant, and here, to be clear, what I mean by "unpleasant," I mean to mean "the whole thing made me feel like my head was going to explode, and not in a good way." Eventually, the entire affair brought back memories of living in Los Angeles, also known as "Hollywood," and sometimes known as "Hell on Earth," a time that while "fun" for me was also "not fun," in that it led to a period of my life that was "less fun," and by "less fun," I mean a time in which I was out of my mind, a period that, to be frank, I'm not entirely sure is over. It is strange, you know, as I'm sure you don't, what it's like to be a sex writer. I mean, my resume is obscene, legally-speaking. What do you do when have never done anything else, and the opportunities presented to you make you feel like you are supposed to bend over like the company whore? I don't know. I suppose that's when you blog it.

When the Hunted Becomes the Hunter

I thought about creating some long, rambling and pensive post about this, but then I didn't. What's here is too awesome. It speaks for itself. That said, Laurel Nakadate is a New York City-based video artist. VBS features a two-part interview with the artist talking about her work. It includes one series in which she makes awesome videos with strange men and another in which she goes to love hotels and has sex with an invisible man. There's dog humping and "shadow fucking." Online, Laurel lives here, and you can read a Believer interview with her here.

I feel like the men who end up in my videos, their biggest crime is being lonely. They’re not violent, they’re not scary people, they’re just men who keep to themselves and have a hard time being social. I’m always out there by myself, I go into stranger’s houses. I did a project where I went and walked around a truck-stop parking lot and videotaped myself dancing with men in the cabs of their semis. I definitely am taking risks, but I think something really great can come out of putting yourself in an awkward situation. A lot of people think that the work is about mocking or making fun of things, but a lot of it is about discomfort and making myself as uncomfortable as the men feel, or putting myself in a situation where I’m revealing my loneliness as much as they’re revealing theirs.

The Sex Writer's Resume

The other day, I was looking over my resume. There, I had dutifully logged every article, every TV appearance, every media mention. I created it so if one day someone wanted to know if I ever did anything, they could look at it and conclude that, well, at least I did 14 pages of something. In any case, here are a few highlights from my glorious, decade-long career as a sex writer. At some point, I heard about a new sex doll. A male sex doll. I called up the male sex doll's manufacturer and asked them to send me one. So I could write about it. One day, the UPS man showed up with a big box. In it, there were two male sex dolls. I decided to go on a date with the male sex doll. I got one of my friends to photograph it. Me and my male sex doll went to Fred 62. We sat at an outside table. Somewhere there is a photo of me feeding it French fries. This date did not have a happy ending. On another occasion, I covered "The World's Biggest Gang Bang III." That was probably not a good day for my mental health, but one makes the choices one makes in one's life. My duties were myriad, but not as demanding as the star of the movie's. The article I wrote about my experiences there included the phrase "apocalyptic fuck"; described its star thusly, "The hole's name is Houston"; and was the piece in which I coined the phrase: "Super Bowl-sized circle jerk." I also covered the story for a Playboy TV show. Later, the executive producer said he thought it was hilarious when I stated to-camera: "It smells like a sperm bank in here." On yet another occasion, and for that same TV show, I did a story about a midget porn star named Bridget Powers. The segment featured me dressed as Dorothy from Oz and Bridget stage-wrestling over a three-foot double-headed dildo. It probably bears mentioning I am six-two. The movie Bridget was starring in that day was called "Midget in a Suitcase." Bridget's costar was named Dick Nasty. At the beginning of the scene, Bridget got zipped into a suitcase. At the end of the day, Bridget cried. Ultimately, I concluded that being on the set of a midget porn movie was completely fucking depressing. These days, I never dream about any of this. I'm not sure why. Not long ago, I dreamed about Jim Powers. I shook my finger at him. He put me in a headlock. In the dream, that was a compliment.

Are You Carrie Bradshaw 2.0?

Company: The Hired Guns (Recruiter)
Position: Editor for a New Women's Sex & Relationship
Site Location: New York, New York
Job Status: Freelance
Salary: Not Specified
Ad Expires: November 6, 2007
Job ID: 834093
Website: http://www.thehiredguns.com

Description:

Title: Editor for a New Women's Sex and Relationship Site
Client: Major Media Network
Location: Flexible--completely dependent on you and your laptop
Type: Long-term contract

According to HBO, "No one captures the lives of the lovelorn and the love-seeking better than columnist Carrie Bradshaw." That is, until now...