Drugs, Sex, and Rock & Roll

It’s bullshit. Just another facet of that same old big picture where some old white guy goes ‘NO’ and we all go “hhhokay” and from now on that’s the rule and we all have to cooperate with it (or pretend to) on pain of shunning. BULLSHIT.

You know what else? If you DON’T like sex THAT’S FINE TOO. You don’t HAVE to. Those of us who do might feel like maybe you’re missing out, but in the end it’s your business and nobody else’s.  There are WAY more than enough folks who are into it procreationally to cheerfully accommodate and fully staff a population of those who are into it more recreationally, or not at all!

And guess what? As long as we’re not putting our hands on anyone who can’t give or hasn’t given informed consent for our hands to be on them, it’s FINE. It’s all FINE. And we nearly all do it. The very fact of something being forbidden or taboo or socially risky is commonly what tends to turn people on about it; I’m telling you, we’re not as different as we think we are and you’re probably not nearly as big a pervert as you think, relatively speaking.

Feathers vs. Chickens

With that in mind it’s not unreasonable to say every damned single one of us has SOME kind of kink. All a kink is, is something that you find sexually pleasurable that, generally speaking, falls outside the range of “strictly one man, one woman, missionary position, no funny talk or spank and tickle.”  Your kink might be oral once a year, that guy over there’s kink might be the only way he can really enjoy himself is with six Armenian jugglers.  Long as he can find six Armenian jugglers who consent, I fail to see any problem with that at all.

That’s where the term “vanilla” as used in communities related to kink comes from – because some folks like vanilla ice cream, and some folks like rocky road or black cherry or mint chocolate chip.  Some folks might like them all on alternating days, or at the same time, and as long as the ice cream is cool with it, it’s all good.

And some folks might not like ice cream at all and that’s cool too.

Heck, your kink might be simply the wonderful feeling you get from being intimate with someone you love.  Destigmatize that word “kink” in your head a bit, it’ll do you good.

We have seen incredible growth in our understanding of human dignity and interpersonal respect, in my lifetime.  Things I did in my twenties I wouldn’t do if I was twenty now, because back then we didn’t really know the less egregious stuff was as bad as it manifestly proved to be.  That’s good change – that’s GREAT if you are (or present as) female.

But it sucks if you really are just a person who was part of the context of groupies and nobody’s checking ID’s at the afterparty and all that stuff, never set out to hurt anyone, never got pushy or shitty with someone when you got told no, didn’t take advantage of anyone when they were passed out or otherwise so incapacitated as to be unable to give meaningful consent, did your best to be respectful and decent, and twenty, thirty, thirty-five years later you’re supposed to feel like an asshole because you *should have* known in 1991 that when a woman walks up to you and offers you free drugs and sex after a gig, she’s probably got serious issues and may need immediate help.

No, in 1991 the expected and entirely common response to that situation was “let’s party,” and frankly I think it’s well worth discussing it with the participants of the time on the “female side” of that conversation before we go assuming all or even most of them feel or in fact were abused, exploited, or assaulted.