In honor of World AIDS Day, December 1, 2007.

Craigslist is one of my favorite websites, both for practical reasons and entertainment. From apartment-hunting to selling unwanted Star Wars memorabilia to finding an occasional hook-up, it’s a pretty useful site. My friends and I have recently taken to perusing the “m4m” personal ads and laughing at grammatical errors and obvious desperation (cruel, I know, so sue me). So last week I was browsing in the m4m section and came across the most disturbing ad I’ve ever seen. Now, to give you a bit of context, I regularly skim right by ads about “full toilet service,” bukkake sessions, glory holes, and foot worship – and I don’t give them a second thought. Hey, whatever floats your boat, right? But this ad was entitled Bug-chaser seeks poz top.

In case you’re not sure what that means (and I didn’t before a storyline on Queer as Folk addressed the issue), a “bug-chaser” is an HIV-negative person who actively seeks out an HIV-positive person to infect them. I don’t claim to be an expert on bug-chasing, but I know there’s something pretty wrong there. It’s kind of like asking your doctor to inject you with bubonic plague, or licking the pus from a gangrenous wound, or eating the uncooked brain of a rabid dog. Perhaps you can tell I think it’s a little gross. Death wishes are for insane, radical cult members, not Joe Schmo.

I’ve seen plenty of stupidity in these ads before, mostly in the form of HIV-negative guys asking for anonymous tops to come bareback them. And up until this last ad, that’s how I would classify those guys: stupid. But seeing Bug-chaser’s ad put the whole idea of safe sex in a new light for me. Not only are people ignorant about the risks associated with unsafe sex, there are people who are actually TRYING to transmit STIs, and both are continuing to contribute to the worst pandemic in 100 years. What I had previously considered stupidity took on a new tone: malice.

I admit that I’ve had unprotected sex before – with long-term, monogamous boyfriends (all 2 of them!). I know that there’s a certain hotness about not having to use a condom (or dental dam, or latex glove, or whatever); I actually agree with those stupid folks that unsafe sex feels better… but that doesn’t mean it’s worth it! Until you’ve really gotten to know someone – i.e. you know for certain that they’re clean and not at risk for getting any new STIs – why risk your life?

Now don’t get me wrong, I know there aren’t that many bug-chasers out there, and most people realize that HIV (and other STIs) are pretty damn shitty. But ignorance can be just as life-threatening as stupidity. The HIV virus is not always detectable immediately after contraction, and can sometimes be present 3-6 months without showing up in HIV tests; WAY more often than not, HIV is spread by someone who doesn’t know they have it. And when there are lives at stake, there’s no more excuse for ignorance or stupidity.

HIV affects the gay, bi, and trans communities disproportionately, largely because anal intercourse is inherently more dangerous than vaginal intercourse. I don’t mean to downplay the effect of STIs in the straight and lesbian communities (particularly hepatitis and HPV, which is extremely widespread and can lead to cervical cancer), but HIV – despite many advances in treatment – is still the only universally terminal STI. From what I’ve seen, too, gay men tend to be a whole lot stupider about their sex lives than most other demographics, so it’s us that needs the biggest slap in the face.

So for goodness’ sake, folks; there are enough stupid people in the world already; there’s no need to add to their numbers, or the numbers of HIV/AIDS victims – just insist on rubbers. They’re really not that bad.
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I went to get my quarterly STD exam the other day, and the nurse who was giving me the questionnaire asked me whether I was a top or a bottom. Even though I knew the question was coming, it annoyed me. Somehow it hadn’t bothered me when they asked how many sex partners I’d had in the last 6 months, or whether I’d ever had an STD before, or whether I used condoms or not. But I stalled when they asked whether I was a fucker or a fuckee, a pitcher or a catcher, Batman or Robin. I’m not uncomfortable talking about my sexual activities with health professionals; it was that they used the word or.

I understand that from a medical perspective, they needed to know whether a urethral or a rectal gonorrhea culture was appropriate. I understand that there are differences in risk factors for one behavior over the other. I understand that there are people who only engage in or prefer one activity or the other. There’s really nothing wrong with the nurse asking if I do top or bottom (as a verb); my distaste was with the fact that she asked if I was a top or bottom. As if that was the defining characteristic of my sexuality! I have nothing against “tops” or “bottoms” insofar as that preference is purely based on sexual desire, and doesn’t become a constrictive sexual identity.

The top/bottom dichotomy has always been one of my pet peeves: it is, at its core, an espousal of the very gender dichotomy that this blog tries to deconstruct. The notion that there is always one dominant (top) and one submissive (bottom) partner in a gay male pair is just a modulation of the masculine/feminine or male/female dyad that has been the root of the mistreatment of women for millennia. Not only is the notion false (yay for versatility!), it’s detrimental to the queer identity and community.

Even if we acknowledge – as we must – that there is no strict correlation between being a bottom and being “femme” (because I know plenty of burly butch bottoms!), there is a stigma associated with being a bottom, even in the gay community. There is a social hierarchy within the gay male world, and bottoms are quite literally at the bottom. The association between femininity and bottoming has served to marginalize a group of people (specifically, guys who take it up the butt) that aren’t even women. Cultural misogyny truly is pervasive; it has spread even to a realm that is almost as womanless as the Freemasons or the Orthodox rabbinate: gay men’s bedrooms.

Not only does the top/bottom dichotomy cause the marginalization of men who like to get fucked, it reinforces the notion of gender inequality in the gay community: wherever the “feminine” is disrespected or devalued, the idea that “women – and anything like them – are inferior” is reinforced. Among a group of people who are by their very nature pushing the traditional boundaries of gender, who are so frequently associated with feminism and women’s rights, and who are the victims of discrimination, it appalls me that such a blatant espousal of misogyny is so commonplace.

I’m not advocating a change in anybody’s sexual behavior; we should all be free to do whatever we want in the bedroom, whether that’s bottoming, topping, or anything else. I AM advocating, though, a disavowal of the identity labels “top” and “bottom” – they’re artifacts of an unequal binary gender system, and their adoption only serves to reinforce that unhealthy cultural construct.
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As most of you have noticed, lewdandshrewd joined Below the Belt this past week to write a little sexual anthropology every now and then. This may be a good time to review the term "NSFW", or "Not Safe For Work" -- meaning, "Don't click the neighboring link unless the people you work with are very open-minded!"

A couple new writers in the works, and a beltcast in the very near future...

Sincerely,
ts
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Before I dive right in and start talking about lots of taboo stuff, let me introduce myself: I’m a Midwestern, corn-fed, clean-cut, nerdy scientist. But – fuck! – sex fascinates me. I don’t mean that I like having sex (though I do), but I like thinking and learning and teaching about sex and the politics of the bedroom, or wherever else people might have orgasms. Exploration of people’s sexual boundaries is my secret agenda: “Would you ever… let your partner pee on you? … have sex with a transgender person? … watch other people have sex? … role-play in the sack? … participate in a sex-party? …” I think sexual behavior, desires, taboos, and fetishes are some of the best ways to understand people; as our most intimate thoughts and actions, sex can speak about our most basic moral, social, and philosophical principles.

But enough philosophical mumbo-jumbo. I’m here to talk about sex, about all the “dirtiest,” “naughtiest,” and most taboo, but to talk about it intelligently. (Disclaimer: read on at your own risk - NSFW.)

I’ll be writing about such varied topics as foot fetishes, anti-sex legislation, piss, cum, squelching and chastity - perhaps crudely, definitely bluntly, but hopefully provocatively. My ultimate goal is this: to share my thoughts about sex, sexuality, and why sex of almost any kind can be fascinating, wonderful, and a downright fucking good time. This won’t always involve personal sexual anecdotes, but today…

I am by no means old enough to have had children of my own, but the last time I had sex, my trick called me “Daddy.” I didn’t think much of it the first time; perhaps he had slipped and called me “Danny” in the throes of passion. The second time, it was unmistakable: “Yeah, Daddy!” Of course, I wasn’t about to let a little strange name-calling get in the way of a good fuck, and I’m just about as tolerant as they come when it comes to kinks, fetishes, and weird sex. So we kept at it.

After a few more moans and a few more minutes, he was apparently aware that being called “Daddy” didn’t freak me out… So he went to the next step in the kinky-name-ladder: he called me “Puppy.”

Instantly my mind snapped to an image of my hot, tan, 30-something trick with a raw steak on his back, getting fucked by a German shepherd. Not my idea of hot. But, hey, I was enjoying myself nonetheless, and there wasn’t really a quadruped humping his ass, so we kept at it. A little later, my hormones were in full force, something clicked in my brain (or cock) and I realized that I didn’t have to want to have sex with my father or a German shepherd to enjoy a little verbalization. The words themselves were a turn-on just because we “shouldn’t” be saying them. The act of rebellion was part of the excitement!

When we were finished and he had driven me home, I started thinking (as I tend to do, post-orgasm) about our experience. I realized I could react to it in two very different ways – and both had some validity. I could’ve reacted as I did: enjoy the rebellion, the rule-breaking, and the downright dirtiness of it. Or I could’ve taken offense that I’d been referred to as an animal, a dog: that I’d been, in a way, degraded. (Of course, humiliation, degradation, S/M, and related things will have to be addressed separately, because that’s just another bag of beans.) After all, what if he’d called me bitch or fag?

Here’s where it gets sticky, and where sex is really unique. Sex is about passion, pleasure, and a personal connection with the person(s) with whom you’re doing it. Sex opens doors to really offend people, but it also opens lots of doors to do things you’d never think to do outside of the bed. If that personal connection is such that you can call your partner-in-crime “Daddy” and not offend them, I say go for it! But there’s a level of sensitivity that’s required to be able to break into the realm of kink and potentially-offensive sexual behavior. It’s a pretty major faux pas to start calling the guy you’re fucking “pussy boy” or something if he’s not going to respond positively. And here’s where I think sex is unique: it’s the only arena in which it can be OK to use that kind of language, provided that all involved parties are on the same page. Under no other circumstances could I really justify using the phrase “pussy boy” or similar usually-offensive phrases.

Now, I’ve just opened a can of worms, I know: Am I really saying it’s OK to call your partner really offensive names? Am I really saying it’s all right to use those most taboo words: faggot, cunt, bitch, ho, etc.? Am I really saying it’s OK to let our principles about social equality, justice, peace, and fair treatment of individuals go to the wayside when we’re having sex?

Yes, yes, and no, I think. Just as we accept the theatrical value of those words in film or on stage, we can employ them effectively in the role-play of the bedroom. Actors don’t have to truly believe the words they use to evoke an emotional reaction; in the bedroom, one (or all) partner(s) can use words they don’t really mean to heighten the pleasure of the experience.

And after all my philosophizing, it turns out I WAS asking for it… I looked down at the shirt I’d been wearing. It said, “Hoosier Daddy?”
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