During a Playboy radio interview earlier this week, show host Tiffany Granath asked me, the producers and the listeners whether we would allow our children to be in a class with a teacher if we knew that teacher was into heavy BDSM, including cutting or "hanging by his skin. I said sure I would. I said the teacher shouldn't discuss his sex life with students; a teacher is not a student's friend or peer. But having a sex life, whether it is percent vanilla or kinkier than even I want to think about, is every adult's right.
Tiffany and her producers were more cautious. They said if they didn't share the teacher's proclivities and weren't in the same scene, the only way they would learn about his behavior is if he wasn't discreet enough. And in that case, the kids could find out. And that would apparently be bad. It was interesting to hear what sexual activities a Playboy radio host might consider beyond the pale; I'm not sure cutting has become mainstream enough for everyone to know what it means, and all I can think of when I hear "hanging from the skin" is the Cheyenne Sun Dance.
But the conversation revealed the social importance of being sexually "normal. But blood? Too extreme, too strange, too abnormal. Given the explosion of sexual expression online, I'm not sure that Americans know what "normal" is anymore.
Whatever it is, we want to be it. Especially when we post personal ads to attract sexual partners. I was astonished at how many craiglist personals -- in flavors ranging from "casual encounters" to "erotic services" to "men seeking women" -- included reassurance from the author that he was normal, no matter what sexual desires he had just described.
It doesn't mean anything. Even an ax murderer can type "I'm a normal guy. I suppose it is important to distinguish yourself from psychos and perverts when you are asking someone to join you in your sexual desires in lieu of "Hi, my name's Lyle. I just don't know that "I'm normal" is an effective way to do it. It is too close to an apology. You've just described your most personal longings and then you quickly about-face and reassure the reader that you're just like everyone else.
