Sunday, December 24, 2006

In Which the True Biological Difference Between Men and Women Is Revealed

Marga Gomez made a joke at the Castro Street Fair that was so obvious it wasn't even funny. She said the Women for Women section of Craigslist should be renamed Women Fight Women. Here we are in the largest lesbian population in the nation (The Gay Atlas is the first place I've seen lesbian populations studied separately from gay male populations), and the personals site has at least as much in-fighting as it does date-seeking. Butches are gross. Transmen have no business in the Women for Women section. Bi women have no business there either. Of the few ads that are actually posted by someone in hopes of finding a date, I'd say 70 percent of them are people looking to date, not just have a one-time sexual encounter.

Now go to the Men for Men section, and you will find brief posts requesting specific sexual acts, often at specific times or locations. And often, you'll find a cock shot. As in, like what you see?

Is this evidence that men are innately, biologically different from women? It's hard to deny that possibility. There is the cultural argument that men are taught to value their desire more than women. The other cultural argument that springs to mind—that women need to fear for their safety more than men—doesn't hold water for same-sex encounters.

Do gay men really have more social approval for their desire than dykes, who have often (though not always) mutinied against the social limitations on women? I would argue that they do indeed. It's a complicated issue, but I think homophobia is stronger against men because most men, in the cockles of their balls, know that, in a pinch at least, they would have sex with another man. And I'd venture that a lot of straight men—and god knows this transman—are jealous of the easy access that gay men have to sex, for which Craigslist can serve as Exhibit A. Meanwhile, lesbians can't overthrow 20-some years of being taught to suppress and mistrust their desires by just waving a Magic Wand. Although they do try, repeatedly.

But there's another difference between the Men for Men ads and the Women for Women ads. PNP, or party 'n' play. It means crystal meth will be part of the encounter.

Drugs decrease inhibitions. Many dykes I know would love to be able to have sex on the fly the way gay men do, but they worry about being able to get it up for someone they've never met. I wrote in a previous post that I desire more like a man than like a woman. The caveat is, there has to be some energy between me and a potential sexual partner, and you can't determine that over the internet. There's also the issue of your would-be partner's ability to let go of their inhibitions, and sometimes dykes aren't able to do that. Anonymous sex should be fun athletically, rather than emotionally. When I have looked into anonymous sex (I won't say if I've done it or not), it has been with butches or FTMs because they seem more likely to be able to provide that.

Men are able to objectify sex partners in a way that women generally can't—it doesn't matter if a guy is ugly if he has a nice cock, or if he's a douche if he's good looking. That skill makes anonymous sex much easier. Maybe it's the macho athleticism specifically of (trans)man on (trans)man sex that makes it good for anonymous play. But, then again, I'm pretty sure I could get it up for a good-looking girlie girl, even one who was completely brain-dead, if I had crystal meth coursing through my veins. So is crystal meth the biological difference between biomen and biowomen?

If this were Sex and the City, we would cut to me typing, and by the end of the episode I would have an easy, heart-warming answer. But this is not so easy or heart warming. Gay men engage in self-destructive sexual behavior, and too many dykes still have trouble enjoying sex. And even thoroughly sex-positive dykes still wish they could have more sex in the bathroom.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

You raise a lot of interesting questions here about different comfort levels in advertising one's sexuality and different levels of appreciation vs. objectification. I can only speak to the facets that I have experienced as a gay man, so my comments run the risk of being off-topic. Nonetheless...


I have never understood the propensity of cock-shots in gay male personal ads. In my view, there is only a certain range of "Penis Dimension"s (thanks, Zappa) physically possible. Long/short, thin/thick, un/cut, bulbous/tapered... and after you've seen a thousand of them (and there is not a single gay man who has not seen a thousand of them, thanks to the twin phenomena of Porn and The Internet), you've seen them all.

I'm not the least bit turned on by a photo of some guy's meat and potatoes. On the other hand, there is an infinite variety of faces, eyes (oh, eyes!), mouths, head hair, facial hair, body hair, arms, torsos, legs, butts, hands, feet, spleens, etc. to behold. (OK, I'm kidding about the spleens.) And that list doesn't even mention the sexiest thing of all, the MIND/SOUL. The real person who INHABITS that body.

Of course, I'm made to feel like a freak because I don't automatically get wet for an 8-incher. Surely I must suffer from internalized homophobia. What I really need to do... what will liberate me... is to go out there and suck all the anonymous cock that I can.

No final point here. Just saying: molds are made by some of us, but we're not born into them.

Anonymous said...

Oh, and about the crystal meth. I've never personally tasted Tina, which may be one reason I don't pursue anonymous sex. But I've seen the fallout... I've lived directly above and beneath it, in fact, in two different locales in the Castro and the Mission in SF. Based on the behavior I saw, heard, and physically felt (bodies slamming onto floors, dishes shattering against walls), I'm going to guess that meth is NOT worth the sex.

Guys, you've got two hands, not to mention all the silicone accoutrements that science has made available. And you can't get off on your own?

Sheesh. Even my cat knows how to use that springy doorstop bumper as a kitty dildo when carnality calls.