the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: pornography

A Critical Look at this Porno Clip

OK, I’m not going to lie.  I read about this website today that is called “a YouTube for pornography,” so I took a little “peek” to see what it was all about.  Believe it or not, I try to avoid pornography, not out of prudishness, but from a belief in feminism.  I was educated by intelligent teachers who taught me that pornography was anti-women, a patriarchal tool that turned capable women into mere sex objects.

I was sitting at my laptop watching Big Boob Woman and Muscle Chest Guy go at it on a kitchen table, doing it every way possible, including positions hat would require me to do a lot more exercise than the hula hoop on the wii-fit. The woman in the video was making so much noise that I turned down the speakers.  I didn’t want my Orthodox Jewish neighbors to think I was a freak.

During this bland sex scene, I had thoughts.  Not sexy thoughts.  Not thoughts about feminism and how women are objectified.  No.   I felt that the video was anti-MALE.

Let’s look at the female character.  It was only a clip, so I don’t really know how she met the guy, but – for argument’s sake — let’s go with the old story that he is a plumber coming over to fix her sink.  One thing leads to another and soon they are f**king on the kitchen counter.  Typical.   We’ve all seen it.   I’m sure this exact situation has happened to most of the mommybloggers who read this blog.

If you look at the woman during the sex, she is having the time of her life.  She is yelling at him to “do it harder,” throwing her head back and forth, and rolling around like an Energizer bunny. She is as demanding of him and his time, like a wife who wants to spend all Sunday shopping at the mall and buying shoes.

The guy seems unhappy, as if he isn’t even present.  He is a robotic Terminator of sex.

You can almost hear him say, “I must pound her.  I must pound her.  I must show no emotion.  I must pound her.  Harder.”

At some point during the sex, he turns her over, face down like a fried egg in the skillet.  I thought that during this brief intermission, their might be some conversation, or a joke told.  Nope.  The woman doesn’t even give the guy a “nice going” or some kind encouragement.  She just wants MORE!

He quickly goes back into robot mode. 

“I must pound her from the rear.  I must pound her from this rear.  It does not matter what side she is.  I must pound her again and again.”

While the woman seems in heaven from all the thrusting, the guy looks like he is stuck on a hot subway in August.  His face is as sour as a dill pickle. 

As I watched the video, I felt bad for the dude.  While he didn’t look very bright, he obviously spends a great deal of time at the gym, making his body buff.  He is proud of his body, but when he jumps out of his clothes in one quick swoop, she hardly looks at him.   If anything, she goes straight for his penis, the one muscle he didn’t work on in the gym.  Is that what we are to women?  A penis?

“I must pound her.  I must pound her.”

I wanted to reach into my laptop and comfort the fellow. 

“Relax, big guy.  It is noble of you to want to give this nice lady several orgasms before you finish fixing the water pipes, but why not enjoy it yourself?  I know what it is like to be a people pleaser, but sometimes you have to be a little selfish — to take care of yourself, too.  Who knows?  Maybe she might even enjoy seeing you having a little fun. It’s not all about her, you know?”

“Pound.   Pound.   Pound.’

My advice would fall on deaf ears.   The filmmakers want him to be a robot.  And the woman, despite being an educated woman (she wore glasses that she takes off early in the scene), is presented as self-absorbed and uncaring about the man’s pleasure.  She WANTS him to be a machine.  How else can you explain the constant cry for “Harder! Harder!” like she is a drill sergeant at Fort Bragg.

Men, let’s talk privately for a second.  Seriously, how many of us can make love to a woman for three hours straight, in fifteen different positions, without… you know… having to come…

Is it any wonder this guy looks like he is constipated.  He’s been pounding her for three hours, still waiting for her to have her fifth orgasm.  He is a SAINT!

Ladies, is this fair?  I have no idea why women complain about these types of pornographic films. The female character gets all the attention and has all the fun!  The man is practically her love slave.  He is expected to act like a soldier in combat, refusing to enjoy himself – just so he can bring the woman to sexual ecstasy and have her nearly pass out!

Sure, at the end, the guy comes too, but by then, he is so exhausted, numb, and out of it, I bet you he doesn’t know what is going on. 

“Uh, wait a minute.  Did I just come OR was that my foot falling asleep?”

And even after his orgasm, he still isn’t smiling.  Of course not.  He’s thinking, “Holy shit, tomorrow morning I have to f*ck this woman for another three hours!”

These movies do more harm to men than women.  These ridiculous lovemaking scenes screw up the minds of men.  Think about the messages being sent to your own sons, brothers, and husbands:

1)  You have to keep it up for three hours and never orgasm until the woman faints from intense pleasure.

2)  Every time you make love, you are expected to do it in several complicated standing positions which can give you knee problems later in life.

3)  Sex is not really sex without giving her oral sex for an hour, no matter how uncomfortable it is for those with weaker jaws.

4)  Lovemaking is all about getting the woman to come.  The man must never enjoy himself or smile.  The man’s role is to be a human sledgehammer and repeatedly hitting her in the correct spot, like those Whack-a-Mole games.

5)  And the most pathetic thing, is after all this work — and I mean hard, physical labor — the man isn’t even allowed to have his orgasm INSIDE the woman.  No, he has to quickly pull himself out, so he comes all over the place, ruining the good sheets he just bought at Target.   What the hell is that all about? Men like to have clean sheets too!

Seeing these porno films has made me lose interest in sex.  I  can understand why women want sex, but what man really wants to go through all that effort, especially when he has HBO? 

And god forbid, a guy has sex and doesn’t make it all the way through the three hour/twenty position love-fest!  He feels all guilty and inadequate.

“Oh, you were fine,” the woman says. 

Yeah, sure.  We know the truth.  You really want the robotic guy in the porno film.

Saving the Rainforest


Last night, the witty Rebecca of Writing Blind, wrote this comment on my blog, in response to me saying that there was HBO at Sophia’s home:

What about Cinemax? They have all those softcore porn movies on at 2 AM. Or so I’ve heard.

Suddenly, I started worrying about my reputation. Do other bloggers think that I’m the type to sit and watch Cinemax all night rather than read the latest New Yorker? You must all think I’m a crazed sex maniac! A pervert! Drooling all over myself at just the mere sight of a woman’s cleavage!

I guess I can understand why you would think that. Even my own mother has told me to stop using words like c**k and p***y on my blog (I write it with *** NOT to protect your delicate disposition, but because I got blocked from some offices the last time I used those words. It’s all about the Blog).

The truth is, I’m not much into pornography. This may surprise you that, considering that I recently asked for photos of bare-breasted bloggers, but I never thought of that request as asking for pornography. I saw it more akin to borrowing some sugar from a neighbor (and so far, only Madeleine sent me anything of value — a photo of a dog!).

Sure, I’ve looked at naked women online and I read Melissa’s famous Smut of the Month, but most pornography is pretty dull. Yesterday, Donald Pittenger at 2 Blowhards wrote an interesting post asking why sexy women in magazines always “look so stupid.” I agree. I remember once finding some site named something like “Hot Naked Babes Wearing Glasses,” and finding it really hot They actually looked like someone I meet meet wandering Barnes and Noble. Call me crazy, but in my fantasy world, my imaginary lover and I actually talk about literature after sex. Or at least we go for some pizza.

I have to admit, that with Sophia away (THREE days now!), I’m getting frustrated. And it’s not really about the sex per se. After all, we are separated and most of the time, we’ve decided that it’s not a good idea to, well, you get the point.

Actually the big frustration is the actual IDEA of the sex, the availability of it, even when it’s not in the cards. I’m like one of those New Yorkers who is proud of having the Metropolitan Opera in his city, even if he only goes there once a year. But if he really really wanted to, he could. It’s comforting to know that if the urge suddenly hits him to see Verdi’s La Traviata, he can just hop on the 1 Train and go see it.

Are you getting this metaphor?

All of a sudden, I wanted to see La Traviata!

In need of some advice, I emailed the wise Charming but Single, who knows all about the ups and downs of “single” life. I asked her what she does when there are no available men around. She said that the perfect substitute is — chocolate ice cream. I’ve heard this mentioned before, but it never made much sense. So, I took my cholesterol pill and downed a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Unfortunately, it didn’t make a dent in how I was feeling. Maybe the ice-cream solution is gender-specific.

I decided it was time to call in the big guns — online pornography. Despite popular belief, if you look carefully enough, you CAN find photos of naked women on the internet.

Who knew?

I found a few “adult sites,” that offered “thumbnail” samples, but to look at the good stuff, you had to pay money.

Lately, I’ve been reading my friend Modigli’s site and she’s been getting all political. She is very concerned about corporate responsibility, energy conservation, and community awareness. It made me think about paying for an adult site.

“If I pay my fifteen dollars to look at some women with big fake boobs, where exactly is my money going?” I asked myself. “What if the site owner is a right-wing Republican? Or worse, an anti-Semite? How do I know that he is paying his models proper wages? Or that his models are even legal residents?”

Here I was torn between two forceful needs: a belief in social justice and a yearning to see photos of a woman spread eagle on a couch.

Luckily, I found a way to combine my two main interests in life —

F**k for (NSFW) (via Lynn and Diesirae)

This bizarre “erotic” site is run by a group of environmentalists who want to save the rainforest. They also love to f**k. So for fifteen dollars (which supposedly goes to the rainforest), you can get a password to see attractive people having sex outdoors in the forest. Or as one of the founders of the site puts it:

Welcome, nature lover. My name is Leona. I am one of the founders of FFF. We feel sexuality is beeing [sic?] treated like nature, with disrespect. We wanted to use love & sexuality to fight against this un-natural way of treating our planet. Inside the members area you will see real environmentalists showing you REAL idealism. All to celebrate life and save nature:) Please support our fight!

Of course, I’m no fool. How do I know that my fifteen dollars are really going to the rainforest? I’ve heard horror stories about some of these so-called “charities.”

On the FFF about page, they make mention that only $3 of the $15 is used for administrative purposes, and the rest goes “to nature.” I found this hard to believe, so I decided to investigate a little further.

Going undercover, I flew to Oslo on the red eye last night and went to the FFF offices. I presented myself as both an environmentalist and someone who enjoys f***ing in the forest (I fudged that I was “experienced” on my resume). As I undressed for the audition, I put my plan in action. I excused myself, saying I needed to use the restroom down the hall. Then using all the skills I’ve learned from years of watching MacGyver, Mission Impossible, and Alias, I broke into their main office vault and took a look at their files and financial records. I knew it! Hardly any money went to the rain forest! Here is the final breakdown:

Membership to F**k for Forest: $15

Administrative $3

Condoms $1

Bug and Mosquito Spray for the Forest $.75

Scented Candles for Romance (and to keep the bugs away while f***ing) $1

Organic Chocolate and Non-Pesticide-Used Flowers (because even women environmentalists like when a guy does that) $1.50

Trader Joe’s wine $2.50

Amy’s Vegan Frozen Lunches $2

Barry White and Anya CDs for “mood music” $1.25

Videotape for Filming $.50

Videotape For Taping “Do You Think You Can Dance?” back at the office while filming the F***ing $.50

Post Sex Cigarettes $.75

“Thanks A Lot for the Sex in the Forest” Greeting Card $.25

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Never Let them See You Sweat

Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial