One Hand Jerking (13 page)

But this was a case of self-love combined with other-hate, and if Castle is convicted, I believe he should be sentenced to a new kind of community service, where he can actually whack off for altruistic reasons. It started a few years ago when Good Vibrations, a shop in San Francisco specializing in sex toys, erotic books and adult videos, declared the month of May to be National Masturbation Month. A tradition was born. Since then, those in the know have been encouraged to obtain pledges from individuals and stores who sponsor their masturbatory events in cities across the country. The funds raised have been donated to various sex-positive causes.

Good Vibrations' online customers were reminded: “Make sure you're well-rested, with ready hands and plenty of batteries and lube—it's Masturbate-a-thon weekend! You still have time to sign up your friends and family to help you raise money for every minute you spend masturbating this weekend. Spread the message of healthy self-love and collect funds for some excellent charities, all with a big ol' smile on your face. Download the pledge from from our web site . . . Wank on!”

Gonzo sex writer and educator Theresa Reed, known as Darklady, organized and promoted—almost exclusively online—the first Masturbate-a-thon in Portland, Oregon. Her invitation stated, “Our special location will be revealed when you join the elite Benevolent Society of Masturbators (BOOM). Come dressed erotically (and patriotically?) . . .” There was indeed a patriotic theme: “Masturbate
Your Way to Freedom.” Artist Steve Hess contributed the logo—an American Eagle clutching a vibrator and a tube of lube—and Darklady wore an Uncle Sam jacket, a top hat and an American flag which did
not
say, “Don't come on me!”

The co-ed party—benefiting the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom, the Center for Sex and Culture, and Planned Parenthood—would feature free food and beverages, condoms and lubrication, DJ's and live bands, strippers and porn stars, door prizes and streaming video onto the Internet. The ThrillHammer Orgazmatron machine proved to be a most popular competition. The woman who rode it the longest became the winner. She was crowned Miss Masturbate-a-thon 2002 and was presented with a lovely tiara, not to mention the afterglow of multiple orgasms galore.

There was a silent auction of goods donated by local businesses and national sex celebrities. Although the Masturbate-a-thon provided its own redeeming social value, informative literature was also available so that guests could learn more about the charitable groups they were helping to support. Promotional material from sponsoring companies was prominently displayed. Hey, can you even remember when masturbation used to be considered a taboo subject and shameful practice?

“Originally,” Darklady told me, “I planned on hosting this party at my home, as I've had many large sex parties there. However, when I began talking to the ThrillHammer people, we decided something bigger would be in order. Being online fanatics, we definitely wanted to go beyond the more grassroots, humble ‘masturbate-at-home' events being held elsewhere. We held the party at the wonderfully pro-sex space at Ascension Dungeon and had some of the most agreeable and competent security folks I've had the privilege to work with.

“I was very impressed by the enthusiastic turn-out and the innovating things people did. One man brought a pyramid-like sex swing, local cable host Harry Lime came along with his camera crew to videotape the ThrillHammer fun, and people flocked to both the camera-friendly and camera-free rooms. We had no unpleasant incidents and everyone seemed to have a great time.”

The doors to the Masturbate-a-thon opened at 6 p.m. and the party ended at 2 a.m. Guests had to sign a liability waiver “in case you slip in your own spunk.” The main room was masturbation-free. Beyond that was a large open space with the Orgazmatron. “ThrillHammer excitement will be broadcast live on the Internet,” Darklady announced, “but the shy and saucy can protect their identity and still get a good internal massage by wearing one of the lovely masks generously
donated by Bad Attitude. A modesty screen will also shield the especially shy from view. Please limit yourself to masturbation as this is, after all, a celebration of self-love.”

But May was not only National Masturbation Month. It was also officially designated as Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month. Isn't it nice when different causes can work together like that?

Although the California Supreme Court has declared that a man may be convicted of rape if his sexual partner first consents but later changes her mind and asks him to stop, a victim of date rape is unable to take advantage of that ruling. As a preventive measure, however, there is now a product on the market—paper coasters which theoretically test for date rape drugs—that is ringing up more than $20 million a year in revenue. These coasters have test spots which are supposed to turn dark blue in 30 seconds if a splash of alcohol contains the drugs that are often used to incapacitate victims.

When Andrew Luster, the millionaire great-grandson of cosmetics tycoon Max Factor and recently captured fugitive, was on trial for date rape, his defense lawyers attempted unsuccessfully to prove that he was actually an aspiring porn producer who was merely practicing his craft when he directed films in which women were only pretending to be asleep while he had sex with them, and that Luster actually intended to sell his porn flicks on the Internet.

The attorneys were foiled in their attempt to show excerpts of Luster's home-made movies in order to counter testimony from women who would testify that they were drugged and raped at his beach house. Ironically, though, there are
actual
porn producers who merchandise rape videos, and they
too
claim that the women who are sexually assaulted are merely pretending to be raped. They may really be raped, who knows, but these companies are simply attempting to cover their
own
asses.

Scream and Cream
, for example, includes this blatantly misspelled disclaimer on their Web site: “All models herein depicted were over 18 at the time of depiction
and were copmensated [sic] for their play. We do not condoce [sic] non-done [sic] non-nocensual [sic] sex. This site is forced sex
fantasy
only.”

Another Web site,
Forced Girls
, can't even spell their own name, as they promote “The #1 forsed [sic] site on the net.” And here is their come-on: “Tired of seeing teens all over the net that look older than your mum? We are too, this is why we created this site jam packed with only the youngest, barely legal girls forced to fuck and suck, prosecuted [sic] by their capturers and brutally punished.”

The
Shocking Extreme
Web site states, “Warning: Exclusive Content,” as though exclusivity were something kinky and forbidden. “She has no hope of escape,” they boast. “These guys are pro's [sic].”

Uncensored Russian Rapes
describes itself as a “Unique Russian rape site with fully exclusive Russian content. Different rape situations, pictures like rape with weapons, rape in the cars, gang rape, teen rape, amateur rape plus hundreds of real rape movies.”

There is an urban myth in Russia that having sex with a virgin will cure AIDS. This dangerous myth has resulted in an epidemic of HIV infected males violating virgins, especially teenagers, because of the insane belief that the younger the virgin, the more potent the cure.

“Do you want to rape a virgin too?” asks the site. “Enter at your own risk.” Although I don't believe that those who download child pornography should be arrested, I do think that those who
produce
kiddie porn should get busted. Likewise, although I don't believe that those who download sexual assault pornography should be arrested, I do think that those who
produce
rape porn should get busted—but only if it can be proven that the sex was non-consensual, and that ain't easy. In fact, it's virtually impossible.

In the
Village Voice
, Johnny Maldoro wrote about a video by porn director Lizzy Borden: “Part fictional snuff, over-the-top gore, and violent hard-core porn,
Forced Entry
won't be taking home any
AVN
awards, and might even force the mainstream media to momentarily focus on our country's largest entertainment industry. . . .

“To prove that her actresses knew what they were signing up for, Borden tacks a bunch of bloopers onto the end of
Forced Entry.
Veronica Caine's wig comes off! Other wacky antics on the set prove the non-exploitative and even friendly relations between cast and crew members! For instance, Taylor St. Claire is totally ‘not pregnant.' Those guys weren't jumping on a
real
fetus.”

In Pakistan, the main human rights group reveals that in 2002, at least 461
women were slain by family members in so-called “honor killings.” In such cases, women are murdered to protect the “family honor” for “offenses” such as dating, talking to men, having sex outside marriage, cooking poorly—and being raped.

Whereas, here in the United States, there was a TV documentary about a church sponsored “Hell House”—which was intended to scare religious teenagers out of engaging in
any
kind of sexual activity—and one girl's reaction is worth placing in a time capsule for future reference.

“The rape scene is the best,” she said, “because you get to dance.”

When Norman Mailer wrote his first novel,
The Naked and the Dead
, he used a euphemism—“fug”—for fuck. The first time I encountered Mailer, I asked him if it was true that when he met actress Tallulah Bankhead, she said, “So you're the young man who doesn't know how to spell fuck.” With a twinkle in his eye, Mailer told me that he replied, “Yes, and you're the young woman who doesn't know how to.”

I saw Mailer again at City Hall Park in New York at the height of the Cold War. We were both among a thousand citizens committing civil disobedience against the law that required us to seek shelter during an air raid drill. Umbrellas bearing the legend
Portable Fallout Shelter
were held up while the crowd sang “America the Beautiful.”

As soon as the air raid siren sounded, the chief of police announced, “Officers, arrest those persons who do not seek shelter!” The cops seized those persons who were nearest to them, including Mailer. Then the all-clear siren sounded, and the rest of the protesters began to disperse.

When I originally launched
The Realist
in 1958, I had requested an interview with Mailer. He declined, but in 1962, after I published an interview with Joseph Heller when
Catch 22
was released, Mailer called me. He was finally ready. We
met at his home in Brooklyn Heights. Mailer sat in a chair, poised like a prize-fighter. And I was his sparring partner.

In 1963, I performed stand-up at Town Hall. When I introduced Joseph Heller, somebody else stood up, but since the audience didn't know what Heller looked like, they applauded. “That's not Joseph Heller,” I said from the stage. “This is right out of
Catch 22
.”

Then I introduced Norman Mailer, and again somebody else stood up. This time it was a young woman. “I'm a friend of Norman's,” she called out. “He couldn't come tonight.”

“That's the story of his life,” I responded. It was a cheap shot, but I couldn't resist. “He's writing another book about it,” I added.

In my interview with Mailer, we had been talking about the mating process of two individuals. “It's mutually selective,” he said. “You fall in together or go in together.” Little did I dream that I would end up “falling in together” with that young woman in the audience, Jeanne Johnson. We got married and had a daughter, Holly.

At one point in the interview, Mailer stated that “a native village is bombed, and the bombs happen to be beautiful when they land; in fact, it would be odd if all that sudden destruction did not liberate some beauty. The form a bomb takes in its explosion may be in part a picture of the potentialities it destroyed. So let us accept the idea that the bomb is beautiful. If so, any liberal who decries the act of bombing is totalitarian if he doesn't admit as well that the bombs were indeed beautiful.”

Q. “Aren't you implying that this beauty is an absolute?”

A. “Well, you don't know. How do you know beauty is not an absolute?”

Later, a whole segment of our interview had to do with masturbation. Now, 40 years later, in Mailer's new book,
The Spooky Art: Thoughts About Writing
, he reprints from the interview almost that entire section, but leaves out my favorite part:

Q. “Is it possible that you have a totalitarian attitude toward masturbation?”

A. “I wouldn't say all people who masturbate are evil, probably I would even say that some of the best people in the world masturbate. But I am saying it's a miserable activity.”

Q. “Well, we're getting right back now to this notion of absolutes. You know—to somebody, masturbation can be a thing of beauty—”

A. “To what end? Who is going to benefit from it?”

Q. “It's a better end than the beauty of a bombing.”

A. “Masturbation is bombing. It's bombing oneself.”

Q. “I see nothing wrong if the only person hurt from masturbation is the one who practices it. But it can also benefit—look, Wilhelm Stekel wrote a book on auto-eroticism, and one of the points he made was that at least it saved some people who might otherwise go out and commit rape.”

A. “It's better to commit rape than masturbate. Maybe, maybe. The whole thing becomes difficult.”

Q. “But rape involves somebody else.”

A. “Just talking about it on the basis of violence: one is violence toward oneself; one is violence toward others. Let's follow your argument and be speculative for a moment—if everyone becomes violent toward themselves, then past a certain point the entire race commits suicide. But if everyone becomes violent toward everyone else, you would probably have one wounded hero-monster left.”