569ff8b0ac844.imageOm Oasis yoga teacher Sterling Taylor and I make small talk about our past lives in Oakland as we pull off our underwear to begin our 60-minute session of yoga-in-the-buff. We move to the mats, kneel in the Vajrasana pose and begin to focus on our breathing.

I’m calm but I still can’t shake the wariness of contorting my bare body in ways that will expose parts of me I haven’t seen.

On principle, I try to blast any hang-ups I have about being naked in the presence of others. From prior experience I know once you get over the curiosity of viewing parts typically hidden, they just become parts. Breasts, buttocks, penises and vaginas are just as normal as noses, cheeks, eyes and chins when sexualized thoughts are absent.

“For me this is about experiencing non-sexual male intimacy,” Taylor says to me in the thankfully warm studio. “That said, if you – or if I – get an erection, it’s really no big deal, those things can happen.”

Read more at Monterey County Weekly…

UntitledWhile bored in New York City on a chilly winter night I decided to venture out and see a movie at the IFC Center in the West Village. Of all the cinematic offerings in NYC, I specifically wanted to go there because I had significant influence on the economic conditions that allowed IFC to acquire the historic Waverly Theater in the early 2000’s. My claim of great influence on the media outlet formerly-known-as Independent Film Channel is less self-aggrandizing than it is a comment on the ridiculousness of the Nielsen rating system in the 1990’s that allowed a horny teenager like myself the viewing power of tens of thousands.

It was hard for a teenage boy in the mid-1990’s to set his eyes on the disrobed female form. My childhood home in rural Connecticut didn’t have dial-up Internet until 1999, so I would have to wait until my later teenage years to discover online porn. My family’s cable plan didn’t include premium—uncensored—cable stations, but it did include the newly founded Independent Film Channel. The channel didn’t fit my tastes of sports, action movies and sophomoric comedy so I largely paid it no mind.

Then one day while flipping through the channels I stumbled upon Walkabout, a 1971 film by Nicolas Roeg about two white kids stranded in the Australian Outback who were helped by an Aboriginal youth on his coming-of-age walkabout. I had read the book of the same title by James Vance Marshall in seventh grade, so the film sparked my interest. Then with no lead up, the protagonist, a teenage girl played by British actress Jenny Agutter, is shown swimming naked in a remote water hole exposing all that she was born with. The scene was far from sexual, but for a small-town teenager from a church-going family, all female nudity was sexual.

Continue reading “The key to IFC’s success, a teenager’s quest for boobs”

It was with no less than six beers and no more than six sexually connected friends a Facebook group called the Six Degrees of Sexeration was created to show just how small—and in turn, large—our sexual circles are.

Facebook users, young and old alike, are posting pictures, comments and links that make it all-too-clear who’s knockin’ boots with who. Add the fact that whether one’s sexually active in a small town or a big city it doesn’t take long to realize everyone’s loins are covered with everyone else’s sex cooties. The Hungarian writer Karinthy seems to have been onto something with his six degrees of separation hypothesis, where every person in the world is connected to every other person by a six-person chain of acquaintance, yet at times it seems everyone is connected by a chain of sexual partners no greater than six.

Okay, that’s a stretch, every man, woman, trans and child would need an average of 43.74 sexual partners for it to be statistically possible for all 7 billion of us to be connected by no more than six. That’s the kind of number most women would never admit to and most men would gladly lie about attaining—yeah, you would think we’d have gotten over the bullshit gender dynamics by now, but we have to deal with a bunch of The Game reading idiots who feel emasculated by our supposed feminist society. As it stands, the average number of sexual partners for adults in the United States is around five and six.

Continue reading “Facebook and the small bed phenomenon”