Okay, so it's no real secret that I used to write quite a bit about sex, and in fact actually did it professionally for a little while; first a full-length book about Chicago's swinging community in 2002, after four months of "participatory journalism" (i.e. a whole lot of group sex with a whole lot of random strangers); and then a year as a columnist for British magazine Liv4Now in 2003, again utilizing the participatory journalism approach (i.e. even more group sex with even more random strangers). And that was fine, of course, and I'm not ashamed of any of the things I've done in my past, although admittedly the next edition of the book (coming later this fall) is going to be published in a slightly different form -- no more naked pictures of me, that is, so all you dirty little perverts who want to see my wee-wee better get downloading while you still have the chance.

And then as regular readers also know, I eventually stopped writing about sex, although for no one particular reason; just that I headed to Europe for the first time in fall 2003, and didn't have any sex at all over there, then came back to a harsh Chicago winter and continued not having sex, and then Liv4Now going out of business, and then eventually me just simply not having anything interesting to write about, because I barely have sex at all anymore. And now that I'm trying to run an arts center, of course (no matter how badly that may be going at the moment), and trying to get more of the mainstream public involved with my various projects, I have to be a lot more careful now about that kind of stuff; which is another reason why I no longer write about sex, and another reason why I'm going to be drubbing the internet of my naked and/or fucking photos over the course of this autumn.

But still, though, this hasn't stopped me from continuing to have a healthy appreciation for sex writers, especially in this fabled 'Web 2.0' age in which we supposedly live; and thus it is that I keep up with funny blogs like Fleshbot, serious ones like One Life Take Two, strange ones like JessieKitty's Like A Pony, and plain dirty ones like The Sexual Liberation Army. My favorite of all of them right now, though, is one called Popwhore, run by a woman named Tatum Reed. And the reason I like this one so much is because Tatum is basically doing the same thing I did when I was a sex writer; going out and having a lot of sex, filming a certain amount of it, then writing a confessional journal about what the experiences were like.

Now, Tatum happens to do a lot of traveling as well; so when I saw last week that she was going to be in Chicago soon, I thought I'd drop her a line out of the blue and see if she might get together for a little informal interview. You know me; you know how much I love dropping lines to people out of the blue. And Tatum ended up nicely agreeing, which is what took me earlier today down to the upscale River North hotel where she was staying, for a morning of interesting conversation and naughty daytime drinking (or for me, anyway -- Tatum stuck with sparkling water). And so that was...thought-provoking, in more ways than one.

Let's start, for example, with something else my longtime readers will notice, so I might as well not deny; that Tatum is a dead ringer for my last ex-girlfriend, W., the one who was into much crazier sex than me and who got me involved with Chicago's swinging community in the first place. And things between W. and I didn't exactly work out ending pleasantly, an understatement to be sure, which just left this whole string of issues and baggage in its wake that took me years to finally come to grips with and get over. So I'm tempted, of course, to transfer these issues onto Tatum because of the similarities; but Jesus, ask me how much I fucking hate it when others attach such baggage to me, so I'm really determined not to do it to others. And so that left me in this strange position while hanging out with her, with part of me wanting to jump in and respond to a lot of the things she was saying, and part of me thinking it best to simply nod a lot and smoke a bunch of cigarettes and keep asking her questions.

And then there's this, which is kind of a hard thing to explain if you've never experienced it yourself; that for the first time in years, there I was suddenly hanging out with someone else who also has a lot of casual sex, and so who you know has the same mindset about it as you. It's hard to deny it, that your view of sex forever changes in a way, after having a whole lot of it with people you barely know; that sex permanently becomes in your brain much more of a physical, biological thing, and much less connected to emotions and relationships than the average person. Three years since I gave up active swinging and porn myself, I've found that this change in mindset doesn't go away; that I'm still viewing sex primarily as a fun thing for two naked people to do as a way to release endorphins, rather than as an expression or statement of love and fidelity.

Maybe this is my brain playing tricks with me, but it definitely seems sometimes that such people have the ability to find each other in crowded public situations like parties; that this shift in mindset is significant enough to bleed into the way one talks and behaves in nonsexual situations. So that's part of it, that weird feeling you get when meeting another "member of the club," so to speak; and then the other part, of course, is the knowledge that both of you are at least partially thinking about what it'd be like to have sex with each other. That's what people do when they have a lot of casual sex; they go around thinking about what it's like to have sex with the people they meet. It's not something that's necessarily on the forefront of every conversation, but definitely something that at least lingers in the back of the mind most of the time.

For what it's worth, I found Tatum to be a remarkably grounded, well-spoken person, someone who laughs a lot about things that other people usually take very seriously, and who seems to understand where all this fits into the grand scheme of her life. This is the biggest problem with swinging and porn, of course, as anyone who's gone through it can tell you; that you can either go into it for clear and explainable reasons, and have a really good experience, or do it because you're trying to avoid other more troubling issues in your life, in which case it becomes a Bob-Crane-style inescapable nightmare. Tatum seems to have her head on her shoulders when it comes to all this stuff, and seems to understand what motivates her to do this and what it says about her life in general; and that's good, I think, because that makes her a real delight to be around, and what makes her sly statements and crooked smiles so infectious.

Because let's make no mistake; she's a charmer, and I found myself more charmed by her every minute we talked. It's a necessary part of succeeding at swinging and porn, after all, given how much rejection you're usually talking about, and the fact that you're trying to convince strangers and acquaintances to do some really filthy, transgressive things sometimes. I'm a charmer too, and that's in fact part of the gripe that some people have about me -- that I'm too charming sometimes, too slick, like I'm forever trying to sell something to people even when I have nothing for sale. I've been accused by a lot of people, for example, of flirting with each and every human being I meet; enough accusations, in fact, that I now take such a thing seriously, even though I still personally can't see it myself.

People ask sometimes when I'm going to date again; it's been four years now since my last relationship, after all. And the answer is that I still don't know, that I'm still in no rush, that sometimes I do get lonely just like everyone else, and that partly I know I still have yet more complicated little issues to work out. I wouldn't make a good boyfriend right now, is the main issue; I'm still too much in a swinging/porn mindset about sex (assets, equations, cutting your losses quickly) and not enough in a relationship mindset (sacrifices, balances, long-term work and planning). There's no chance of me being a good boyfriend until I get more into that second mindset; and I've already subjected enough good women in my life to enough bad relationships, so why subject any of them to any more, I figure.

Now, that all said, there's still a part of me that wants to volunteer for one of Tatum's shoots, the next time she's in Chicago. Which is a whole other issue, my issue, which I'll be pondering between now and her next visit (happening alarmingly soon). As always, you'll be the third to know what the eventual decision is.

So speaking of inappropriate crushes, I think I'm in love a little with a Texas-based rapper named MC Router, even though she's technically young enough to be my daughter (if I had knocked up a girl in high school, that is). And really, how can you not be in love a little with MC Router? She's the verbal brains behind 'nerdcore' group 1337 G33K B34T (or "Elite Geek Beat," for those who don't speak Gamer), who do gangsta rap songs about such subjects as World of Warcraft and Bill Gates. Which, I have to admit, might just be the nerdiest fucking thing that has ever been done by human beings, and perhaps even the nerdiest fucking thing that humans might ever do in history. I mean, just check out this diss MC Router directed at Wired magazine recently in the song "UnWired," after the publication printed an article poking gentle fun at the nerdcore genre:

NRRRRRDDDDDDSSSSS, muthafucka! As old and stupid as this makes me sound, I just am so glad and am so tickled to see people like MC Router around, an entirely new generation of young people proudly waving their nerd flag in the air. Please understand that I'm laughing out loud right now as I type the following -- but man, if I was 20 years old right now, I'd be in hardcore fucking nerd love with MC Router, man, it wouldn't even be funny. I'm just so happy to see people like her around, continuing to take things to the street, continuing to see the world in completely right-or-wrong terms, which of course is the main purpose for 20-year-olds existing in the first place. Go, you dear hardcore nerds, go! Come play Chicago soon, so I can attend and feel like a hipster again for one night in my miserable life!

(UPDATE: To address an email I just got on the subject -- MC Router wouldn't be as nearly entertaining as she is, if she was just doing some silly gimmicky thing of jumping on the mic and talking about nerdy stuff. She does in fact lay down the beats quite skillfully, and is an accomplished hiphop artist; or as one of her many online fans says at his blog, "She rocks the cocks all the way to the box." Fuck yeah! Fresh for '88, I'm telling you -- old-skool, that is, a pretty amazing thing for a 20-year-old white girl in Texas to pull off.)