Giggle of the day

Men, by and large, leave this subject alone. Somewhere it\’s a given that men don\’t have anything too reflective to say about sex, or they feel silenced by feminists. Where is the male Suzanne Portnoy, the male Melissa P? What men will write honestly about their highs and lows, their triumphs, their sexual sorrows? What man is brave enough to express himself freely about his desires? Few. My guess is that male sexuality has been so heavily associated with violence that men suffer an even stronger taboo than woman. Best keep quiet.

Umm, might I suggest Philip Roth?

You know, Portnoy\’s Complaint?

2 thoughts on “Giggle of the day”

  1. So Much For Subtlety

    Where the f**k has this woman been? Almost the entire corpus of Western literature is an extended commentary on men’s sex lives. Has she never read a love poem before in her life?

    Associated with violence? She means that men are all secretly fantasizing about raping women (or I bet she thinks her) and that is why they do not dare write about it?

    This seems to me to be verging on wish fulfillment. Let me just reassure the author that I do not secretly lust after, or want to violate, her or any other woman.

  2. Amen, SMFS, in spades. Of course to be in the grip of the stupid obsession with sex that so consumes Leftist women of this sort is tantamount to having a large part of one’s brain removed. Normal men do not think about sex the whole time. One thinks about it (filtered, as this must be, through my of course singular experience) in the immediate run-up to it, during it, briefly after it, and sporadically as a nice pair of charlies swims into one’s ken. Most of the rest of the time we are thinking about other things. We don’t talk about it, except perhaps in a fond reminiscence while in our cups with a mate (phwoarr, she was dynamite!) because a) it’s personal and b) it’s boring. Tab A goes in slot B. Who in their right mind gives a shit?

    Anyway, Portnoy’s Complaint was largely a book-length lament to the essential truth of Larkin’s observation: “they fuck you up, your Mum and Dad.”

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