. . . To bring Elizabeth’s argument back in: if the feminist marketplace of ideas cannot support a true diversity of sexual theory, and neither can the mainstream, then maybe blogging is a wonderful, messy middleground. Personal sex blogging may be (hopelessly?) marginalized to the hoary Blogspots of the the web, but within every Penthousey story, there can still be an ethic of truth-telling. That ethic isn’t too different from our original feminist sex rebellion: against the over-medicalization and patholgization of women’s sexuality, and in favor of the multiplicity of bodies, genders, desires, and pleasures we ought to have the right to.
Personal sex blogging still matters: that’s where our girlfriends can still whisper to us about how their bodies work, stories about fucking that will never make it into a peer-reviewed journal (Elizabeth’s article being a historic exception). Blogging sex is where we can flex our smarts and fuck up in front of our friends. And if sex blogging spawns a few sexperts along the way, they’ll be different than the previous generations — informed by what it means to write within a community, to share what we’ve got without making a buck right away, to defer to others and not have to agree all the time, and to know: not having to compete for the largely irrelevant and played-out role of Most Important Most Famous Most Whatever Sex Expert Lady makes us all richer for it.
Gallery Carre
