As someone who struggles with meeting or attracting human beings in person, I often rely on online dating and hookups to meet and/or play with new folks.  I was thinking about a recent online correspondence with an older woman who, after I revealed the bombshell that I identify as bisexual (while I identify as queer specifically, for the sake of convenience and depending on my expectations of what someone may know about “queer” as a sexual identity that I identify with, I’ll often refer to myself as bi and decide to elaborate later), she very respectfully told me that she was not really interested.  To quote: “And the bisexual thing is also an issue for me. I understand you might play safe, but there are too many risks involved for me to be comfortable, and condoms break.”  (The other kiss of death having been my status as an occasional smoker.)

Fast forward to yesterday, I had a great date with this really cool girl I just met via a post I put up on CL.  I ended up spending the night at her place, and we had sex.  I realized after the fact that I had not disclosed my sexual identity and preferences on my ad, and I got really worried.  I have had a number of experiences where women will lose any interest in me that they may have had because of my status as...

I’m envisioning an auditorium filled with militant adults and youth with contrasting ideologies, backgrounds, and experiences, and yet one unified mission.  Self-appointed delegates and speakers for the cause range from secular policy makers to religious leaders to something in between.  Children, arguably more than slightly influenced by the crowd’s fervor and the adults’ accessible rhetoric and basic appeals to morality and values, are taking a stand against a society that they believe is corrupt and against their own interests in living in a nation that has not abandoned traditional and fundamental ethical principles promoted by gods and communities alike.  They are all collectively becoming very bonded, very powerful, and very pissed off.  They grit their teeth and grind their axes.  They take no prisoners and dish out plenty of shame and fear-mongering.  Tempers are flaring.  Blood is boiling.  Nerves are rising.  The auditorium feels like it’s going to explode.  Thank goodness this is just a fantasy, I’m beginning to scare myself.

Finally, the dissenters are allocated to speak.  A rain of boos, curses, threats, and slogans fill the air as the auditorium...

I’ve been spending the last hour or so contemplating on what sort of sex educator Yoda would’ve been.  Would Yoda advocate abstinence-only?  Abstinence-plus?  “Comprehensive” sex ed?  I’m thinking about memorable Star Wars movies quotes, and I come to different conclusions:

“Do or do not.  There is no try.”  Hmm…okay, almost sounds like the motto of “chastity pledges.”  You either stay a (born-again) virgin or you don’t.  There is no try.  Stiff upper lip, keep your zipper up, feel the Force, and you’re a “good” teen.  Succumb to the temptations of the dark side, and you’ve crossed the threshold.

But wait: “Fear is the path of the dark side.  Fear leads to anger.  Anger leads to hate.  Hate leads to suffering.”

Yoda, the sympathetic Jedi sex master, understands the sort of fear mongering and smear campaigns that, as Judith Levine constantly attests throughout her book Harmful...

(NOTE: I know that I should be posting on Monday, but a recent interaction is fresh on my mind and so I don’t see any harm in dong so a few days earlier.)

So I was drinking amongst friends and acquaintances at probably my favorite bar in San Francisco (coincidentally about a two-minute walk from my place, which has probably saved my life after more than a few games of beer pong as well as 50 cent PBR nights).  One of the guys at the table—a good acquaintance if not outright friend of mine—brought up a tale about a young man that I didn’t know, but that the majority of the table seemed familiar with.

My friend proceeded to talk about how he doesn’t really talk to this dude anymore, and in his defense, he said something along the lines of, “Dude, he’s a pedophile.”  “Child molester” was definitely another term he used to describe said estranged friend/acquaintance of his.  Let’s just refer to said-perpetrator as Chester for clarity’s sake.

To elaborate further, he explained the situation to my roommate and I (paraphrasing): Chester was 19 years old when he had sex with a 12 year old girl (I forget if she was his girlfriend or not), and how Chester had...