Biker was talking about his various sexual escapades on the road. He related one anecdote which involved a homeless woman who didn’t have any teeth. “She wasn’t bad looking, man. I don’t what happened to her teeth.” I made a comment about having some standards regarding teeth and he went off on an all-too familiar rant.
“Man, don’t give me that shit. Every dude is biologically hard-wired to fuck chicks, man. That’s how God intended it to be; that’s how it is, man. Don’t even try to tell me that if some hot chick was standing there offering up some pussy you wouldn’t jump right on it just because she didn’t have no teeth because I know that’s bullshit, man. I know it, you know it, he knows it, God knows it because that’s just how it is, man.” Blah, blah, blah. Same specious justification I’ve heard countless times from countless dudes who somehow feel that they need to convince me that God wants them to fuck every female they can possibly fuck, married or not, underage or not, too drunk to walk or not, catatonic or not. I elected not to get into a debate with Biker Dude. There’s no possibility of making any kind of positive change in a situation like that and he’ll be roaring off to Fuckall soon enough anyway, snow-white handlebar moustache flappin’ in the wind.
I’m certainly not denying that all known living entities are programmed to reproduce. Of course that’s true. Nor am I saying that there aren’t men who go anywhere their dicks lead them. Obviously there are. What rankles me is when dudes proclaim that poking their peckers into any female who will stay still for it is absolutely right and good and natural and is, in fact, what God intended for them to do and that any man who doesn’t shout “Amen, man!” is lying and also probably envious of their talents, abilities and freedom. Biker Dude didn’t say “You’re just jealous, man”, but I’ve heard that line from other dudes. As if there was anything stopping me from living that lifestyle other than my own desire not to.
Of course, I’ve had casual sex. It isn’t really all that hard, especially when you and everyone you know is drunk and/or on drugs and doesn’t care about themselves or anybody else. I was never much of a rake, preferring monogamy, having relatively high standards and being unwilling to take advantage of anyone who was more fucked up than me, a state that would’ve been hard for anyone to attain in any case. Since I got straight, I’ve had a few encounters, but I eventually came to the conclusion that casual sex just isn’t that interesting. I’d honestly rather draw or read or record phased banjo over recordings I surreptitiously made of the Christian, folk-pop, teenaged, sibling band that practices in the basement of the house where I currently live. Or go hiking or watch movies that most people never heard of or stand around shooting the shit in parking lots or write or play shows or just about anything other than rub myself against the potentially diseased mucous membranes of total strangers.
Sex is good, don’t get me wrong. I’m in favor of sex. A few years back, BDSR released Hymn To The Beast With Two Backs, an eighty-minute celebratory soundtrack for sex. The back cover art for From Pussys To Death And Back Again/Eternal Freakout was a photo of a masked, naked woman with her legs spread holding a sign that read “The Big Drum In The Sky Religion loves you.” (That was based on a photo of Grace Slick from the old 2400 Fulton Street house.) Les Origines Des Mondes has close-up, black and white photos of male and female genitals on the cover. (Referencing Gustave Courbet’s “L’Origine Du Monde”.) I’m currently looking for a lady who will let me draw on and photograph one of her boobies for the cover of a 3” titled Daevas From Nipples. (If you don’t know that’s taking off Acid Mothers Temple’s Demons From Nipples, y’oughta be ashamed.) I’m not opposed to sex, not even casual sex, I just don’t want to engage in it.
I feel no need to proclaim that my attitude is right, good, natural and in accordance with God’s plan as opposed to any other. It’s right for me.
I do find some images, actions and attitudes reprehensible. Exploitation sickens. I received a package from a label recently, my copies of a BDSR release plus a few other releases that the label guy kindly included. A couple of those had cover art that included images taken straight from porn. It wasn’t the first time that happened. I doubt it’ll be the last. My first thought in cases like that is “Should I stop working with this label? Am I compromising my integrity by associating myself with a label that puts out stuff with misogynistic art?” Then I remember the BDSR releases with genitals on the covers, then I remind myself that referencing a thought-provoking and generally amazing 19th century painting isn’t quite the same as writing the name of the band and album on a page torn from a bukkake magazine, then I remember my father lecturing me about guilt by association and being judged by the company you keep and yadda-yadda. I have not yet broken relations with any label on the grounds that I didn’t enjoy the cover art another band used. I’m not 100% comfortable with that, but it comes down to the fact that I’m trying to get a message out there and I’m more interested in reaching the sinners than the saints. I assume that the label guy will get around to sharing that BDSR thing with the bukkake-loving grindcore bands on the label. Maybe it’ll make a difference. Or maybe this is the Kali Yuga and we’re all just sliding down the decadent and degrading drop-off to universal destruction. I dunno.
Sex is good, but morality and decency ain’t bad. Naked cover art is controversial, but it isn’t always exploitive. The desire for sex is not a mandate to fuck any/everyone you can get away with fucking. Old bikers aren’t always creepy, but sometimes they are.