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(Source: tombianchiphotos, via jdbrecords)
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Hey #pcaaca2013, our panel, “Boys’ Bodies, Consumer Commodities, and Modern Masculinities,” is in the Thurgood Marshall Ballroom South at 3pm. (at Washington Marriott Wardman Park)
Dear Queer Poet,
At seventeen, I finally feel mature enough to embark on an epic poem about my coming-out story. I have been through many hardships. For instance, my father said that my sexuality “isn’t a big deal.” And my best friend said she “doesn’t care.” What advice do you have for a…
Dear Queer Poet,
I’ve been looking for you! We met at the I-95 rest stop in Wisconsin a few weeks back. I recognized you from your press photos that show off your wicked tattoo. Any chance we can hook up again? I’ll be driving back through next week.
Xo,
Brad from Boston
Oh hey,…
Dear Queer Theorist,
I was perusing Craigslist Missed Connections after weekly knitting group last night and I ran across one titled “Pro-style cocksucker, I-95 rest stop.” The ad described the cocksucker’s tattoo in detail; it was shaped like Wisconsin and below the left ear lobe. This is my husband. What do I do?
Xo,
Pat in Punxsutawney
Dear Pat,
If you will pardon the slight reproach, I find that your question suffers from no small measure of ambiguity condensed into your final (symptomatically redundant, as you imply concern about what your husband is doing) use of the verb “to do.” “Doing” implies an action that must first be informed by a more complete understanding of the scope of and stakes in your discovery as well as your “perusal.” (You know that “to peruse” means “to examine thoroughly,” and not “to skim,” correct? Not to be prescriptivist, but the word is often misused.). Condensed into but, I think, also provoking your question about “doing” seems to be a degree of anxiety (although with so little to go on I am hesitant to measure how much) regarding what we may term your husband’s sexuality: that modern nexus of personality, history, and habits; of tastes and preferences spoken and unspoken; of distinctive marks and morphology (like the Wisconsin tattoo – Go Packers! – that in this case at least stuck in the mind of the man who was presumably holding your husband’s ears while packing his cock deep inside that pro’s throat). Put another way still, you seem to be asking (again at least in part, and please, too, pardon the slight suspicion that informs my translation of your question here) a question about your husband’s sexual orientation: the direction (phenomenologically) of his sexual, erotic, and/or libidinal drive, or at least the current primary direction, insofar as it can be discerned, because (well, just one because) orientations may shift.
I don’t know the answer to this question, but I also don’t care. More interesting is the relationship between sociality and sexuality that your question and the ad together suggest; the relationship, that is, between the kinds of sexuality that find expression and concealment (sexuality about which I note you say nothing) in your own knitting group, as compared to the rest stop (about which much has already been said) in which your husband works a second job. (Get it? I punned on “job.”) Perhaps you could write more about your knitting group. After all, structuring both forms of sociality (group knitting, rest stop dick-sucking), but certainly in very different ways, are various vectors of power and communication, some horizontal, some vertical, as well as a series of rules, tacit and explicit and somewhere in between, that regulate the behavior of people inside each social space. You might think too about the way electronic media, specifically email and the Internet, mediate relationships within and between each social group. It was a rhizomatic vector of electronic transmission indeed that had you stumble across this ad regarding a “missed connection” with your husband!
I can’t help but note, further, that the phrase “missed connection” needs unpacking given that the social space in which it originated typically facilitates anonymous sexual encounters. What kind of work is the category “missed connection” doing in terms of the norms of anonymity that govern rest stop encounters? What constitutes an encounter in the first place? Also, in what sense was the connection missed? Presumably, your husband sucked the cock of the person who placed the ad. What was missing, then, from this encounter that left the person who placed the ad in a state of longing, in a state of constant desire – desire being by definition constant, but felt with sufficient intensity, at least for a moment, to result in its Craigslist expression?
xoxo,
QT
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This might really be a sign of the snow apocalypse: I’m drinking tea, not coffee, and reading British, not American. (at Teaism)