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SEXIS WRONG

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Hooray for Sodomy<br />

Is the Rectum an Easter Basket?<br />

Simon Sheppard<br />

Easter, 2005<br />

I’ve just finished fucking this guy, a tall, odd-but-handsomelooking<br />

fellow whose family, he’s told me, is Irish Catholic,<br />

a nice touch for the holiday. He’s proven to be a great lay,<br />

with a passionate attitude and an ass that fairly sits up and<br />

begs for more. It’s the second day in a row he’s come over to<br />

have sex, and he once again put his legs in the air while I slid<br />

my hard-on into his lubed-up ass and cheerfully obeyed his<br />

exhortation: “Plow me hard with that beautiful dick.” Absolutely,<br />

Patrick. Sure thing. Happy Easter, dude.<br />

There’s a passage by the late French queer theorist Guy Hocquenghem<br />

that I love, even if I’m not quite sure just what it<br />

means. It’s from a book titled Homosexual Desire, published<br />

way back in 1972:<br />

If the homosexual image contains a complex knot<br />

of dread and desire, if the homosexual fantasy<br />

is more obscene than any other and at the same<br />

time more exciting, if it is impossible to appear<br />

anywhere as a self-confessed homosexual without<br />

upsetting families...then the reason<br />

must be that for us twentieth-century<br />

westerners there is a close connection<br />

between desire and homosexuality.<br />

Homosexuality expresses something—<br />

some aspect of desire—which appears nowhere<br />

else, and that something is not merely the<br />

accomplishment of the sexual act with a person of<br />

the same sex.<br />

Oh-KAY, Monsieur Guy!<br />

I’ve slogged my way through a bit of Foucault and stuff, but<br />

let’s face it—unless you’re shooting for academic tenure, it’s<br />

hardly the kind of thing you read in an odd moment on the toilet.<br />

But as I understand it, the gist of Hocquenghem’s thesis<br />

is that—well, that fucking butt has nothing productive about<br />

it, that’s it’s just about pleasure, pure and simple. No wonder<br />

right-wingers hate the idea of queer sex. It’s so…noncapitalist.<br />

And then there’s the “appears nowhere else” thing. Don’t we<br />

all want to believe we’re, as Radiohead elegantly put it, “so<br />

fucking special?” So if a guy can become as ineffably ineffable<br />

as Cher simply by taking cock up his butt…well, why<br />

the hell not?<br />

Looking down at Patrick, at his big, lean body, his hard cock<br />

leaking precum on his belly, making him moan with stroke after<br />

stroke, then leaning over to kiss him while my condomized<br />

cock slides in and out of his yielding hole—it was all more<br />

than pornographic. It was both friendly and predatory, animal<br />

and human. Holy and profane. It was…um…hot.<br />

No wonder right-wingers hate the<br />

idea of queer sex.<br />

It’s so…noncapitalist.<br />

I’ve been passing myself off as a sex advisor for quite a while<br />

now, and I’ve always maintained that anal sex is strictly optional<br />

for queer men, just one carnal choice among many.<br />

Which is to say: Committing sodomy is not required to be a<br />

sodomite. (And yes, I know that some benighted souls define<br />

even a quick blowjob as “sodomy,” but fuck ’em.) Lately,<br />

HOORAY FOR SODOMY 295

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