Posts
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Opening Pandora's Box
I'm still trying to figure out why I'm so enamored with the website Pandora's Secret's.
I really shouldn't be; it boasts nothing particularly out-of-the-ordinary, in terms of erotica. The basic conceit: people write their fantasies and post them on the site. Boom bada boom. There's nothing more to it than that, and quite honestly, I'm sure other people have been doing it elsewhere long, long ago. And yet I remain hooked.
Maybe it's because I've never actually had the impulse to write down my fantasies before. Oh, I've certainly put pen to paper to write about sexy ideas that get me hot- I am a writer, after all- but when I sit down to write stories, that's exactly what I am: a writer. My erotic stories are carefully crafted in terms of characterization, ambiance, picking out just the right details to accentuate the fucking in my readers' minds. I write to create art, and while it's rewarding, it's incredibly challenging and more than a little non-erotic, struggling to capture the essence of what will make this tryst stand out in the millieu of hundreds of others on sites like Literotica.com (or, in my dreams of getting published, on the shelves at your local bookstore). The pressure, and the perfectionist in me, make writing erotica another chore, albeit one I love far more than going to the bank and Post Office.
But nonetheless, I found myself at Pandora's Secrets- after a curious click on the link from Eros Blog- and decided on a whim to write down a fantasy that consistently and continuously came to me during my solitary sessions. It was short, sweet, and best of all, it felt fantastic. I returned time and time again to read and re-read my fantasy, and then, in the following weeks, to write four more. And I think I've figured out why it's so addictive.
For me, a big part of the appeal is the fact that I am writing for no audience, and yet, at the same time, for an audience. I have nobody I want to impress on Pandorassecrets.com, and the site isn't one of literary erotica. Presumably, nobody is going to criticize my grammar or writing. I am beholden to nobody, and if I decide I want to spend four lengthy paragraphs luxuriating in every minute detail of giving a blowjob- something that, in a real story, would have to be done with particular skill and attention in order not to drag and lose narrative focus- it's perfectly fine. There's no need for an introduction, and the words flow out of my fingers stream-of-consciousness style in the way that only writing without a care in the world can get you (the guiding concept behind the upcoming annual NaNoWriMo as well). And while I might be able to get the same results by writing the exact same thing in a private, and not Web-wide capacity, the idea of an audience acts simultaneously as a motivator. I've left behind started-and-never-visited-again diaries and "personal blogs" because it's so easy to get lazy. Nobody's reading it but me, and it's all in my head anyways, right? The opportunity to put it into a public forum somehow stimulates me to lay my fantasies out where I might otherwise not.
And, of course, there's the sheer, delicious, perverted nature of a fantasy. Or perhaps my fantasies are different. I have many- ranging from celebrities, perverse alternate universes where familiar characters get it on (a.k.a. slash and fanfic), porno-influenced scenes, and . . . people I know. There's nothing quite so naughty as having sexy thoughts about an acquaintance, or even a good friend, because it feels so very real. You know him/her and you know yourself- you can easily plot the interactions between the two of you. And in the same way that a new crush will often be literally hanging off your lips, ready to burst out to the first curious ear, the release of such naughty fantasies is immensely cathartic. Suddenly, it's out there, floating in cyberspace. Your heart pounds giddily at the dizzying thought- what if, just what if, he/she read it and knew it was me writing? Yeah. That's something you can't get from writing fiction, no matter how taboo it gets. I don't know; I talk regularly in various forums about anal sex, incest, threesomes, bukkakes, rape fantasies. I won't say that I'm jaded or immune to the heat generated by the rare, the kinky, the dirty, the 'wrong'. But I've discovered that if I really want to trip my trigger, putting thoughts to paper about my nearest and dearest tends to do the trick, exactly.
So, yeah. If you have some fantasies to unload, try it out. You just might like it!
I really shouldn't be; it boasts nothing particularly out-of-the-ordinary, in terms of erotica. The basic conceit: people write their fantasies and post them on the site. Boom bada boom. There's nothing more to it than that, and quite honestly, I'm sure other people have been doing it elsewhere long, long ago. And yet I remain hooked.
Maybe it's because I've never actually had the impulse to write down my fantasies before. Oh, I've certainly put pen to paper to write about sexy ideas that get me hot- I am a writer, after all- but when I sit down to write stories, that's exactly what I am: a writer. My erotic stories are carefully crafted in terms of characterization, ambiance, picking out just the right details to accentuate the fucking in my readers' minds. I write to create art, and while it's rewarding, it's incredibly challenging and more than a little non-erotic, struggling to capture the essence of what will make this tryst stand out in the millieu of hundreds of others on sites like Literotica.com (or, in my dreams of getting published, on the shelves at your local bookstore). The pressure, and the perfectionist in me, make writing erotica another chore, albeit one I love far more than going to the bank and Post Office.
But nonetheless, I found myself at Pandora's Secrets- after a curious click on the link from Eros Blog- and decided on a whim to write down a fantasy that consistently and continuously came to me during my solitary sessions. It was short, sweet, and best of all, it felt fantastic. I returned time and time again to read and re-read my fantasy, and then, in the following weeks, to write four more. And I think I've figured out why it's so addictive.
For me, a big part of the appeal is the fact that I am writing for no audience, and yet, at the same time, for an audience. I have nobody I want to impress on Pandorassecrets.com, and the site isn't one of literary erotica. Presumably, nobody is going to criticize my grammar or writing. I am beholden to nobody, and if I decide I want to spend four lengthy paragraphs luxuriating in every minute detail of giving a blowjob- something that, in a real story, would have to be done with particular skill and attention in order not to drag and lose narrative focus- it's perfectly fine. There's no need for an introduction, and the words flow out of my fingers stream-of-consciousness style in the way that only writing without a care in the world can get you (the guiding concept behind the upcoming annual NaNoWriMo as well). And while I might be able to get the same results by writing the exact same thing in a private, and not Web-wide capacity, the idea of an audience acts simultaneously as a motivator. I've left behind started-and-never-visited-again diaries and "personal blogs" because it's so easy to get lazy. Nobody's reading it but me, and it's all in my head anyways, right? The opportunity to put it into a public forum somehow stimulates me to lay my fantasies out where I might otherwise not.
And, of course, there's the sheer, delicious, perverted nature of a fantasy. Or perhaps my fantasies are different. I have many- ranging from celebrities, perverse alternate universes where familiar characters get it on (a.k.a. slash and fanfic), porno-influenced scenes, and . . . people I know. There's nothing quite so naughty as having sexy thoughts about an acquaintance, or even a good friend, because it feels so very real. You know him/her and you know yourself- you can easily plot the interactions between the two of you. And in the same way that a new crush will often be literally hanging off your lips, ready to burst out to the first curious ear, the release of such naughty fantasies is immensely cathartic. Suddenly, it's out there, floating in cyberspace. Your heart pounds giddily at the dizzying thought- what if, just what if, he/she read it and knew it was me writing? Yeah. That's something you can't get from writing fiction, no matter how taboo it gets. I don't know; I talk regularly in various forums about anal sex, incest, threesomes, bukkakes, rape fantasies. I won't say that I'm jaded or immune to the heat generated by the rare, the kinky, the dirty, the 'wrong'. But I've discovered that if I really want to trip my trigger, putting thoughts to paper about my nearest and dearest tends to do the trick, exactly.
So, yeah. If you have some fantasies to unload, try it out. You just might like it!
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Forearms As Foreplay
Are hairy arms [on women] sexy? A turn-off? Something nobody cares about either way (unless you're Chewbacca-hairy, that is)? Moreover- what do women themselves think about their arm hair or lack thereof?
Last week I was drafted, along with my other suitemates, to help my very blonde, very "Hills"-esque neighbor (hereafter christened "Sally") to wax her arms. It's apparently something she often does, and giving her freaking out about the invisible hairs I couldn't see, I'm quite sure her fine, blonde arm hair was never that long or noticeable anyways, pre-waxing. But then again, my perspectives may be skewed: I like my long, gorgeous arm hair. Sure, sometimes I think about removing it, but that's mostly because I have a total fetish/fixation on shaving very hairy areas (I often eye boys' deliciously hairy legs, my fingers just itching for a razor to get to see the beautiful contrast of smooth and furry). But I would never get rid of it- it's a part of me. It's everything my leg hair (when I let it go) is not: softer, lighter, denser. It holds me out and apart from ultra-feminized and cosmetic slaves like Sally. It feels a little like gender-bending, since men are so often prized for their hairiness. Yeah, I love it my arm hair. It certainly is less work than the hair on the top of my head. Here's a bad picture of left arm:
And yet I remember being back in elementary school, and chatting with the gals about the new Asian girl in our class- how lucky they were, we noted enviously, to have so little body hair (as evidenced by her bare arms). I don't know if I consciously agreed with it at the time or just nodded in naive agreement (I wasn't the beauty-knowledgable pre-teen, so who was I to know hairlessness was in? I didn't shave my legs until mid-way through high school), but either way, it left an impression on me.
Years later, when my cousin revealed that she shaved her arms, I was shocked beyond belief, and yes, a testing touch revealed my worst nightmare: no visible stubble, but that horrible, sharp feeling of skin that has been shaved and is starting to grow in. I vowed then and there- never, ever, ever. No way. I'd let my arm hair get so long I could braid it before I ever shaved it off. But by then I'd already grown attached to my forearm fur.
Waxing with Sally proved more interest-picquing, but overall, I just would rather not mess with perfection. And to my surprise, the same week I watch hot wax get ripped off of Sally's arms, my Internet wanderings somehow miraculously mirroring my real life and I stumble along to this little ode to hairy (I suppose "hirsute" is the way to make it sound sexier) female arms on the great forums at Adult DVD Talk.
And no, I didn't wander randomly onto the website Girls With Hairy Arms (the source of the top picture)- that would be a little too precious!- but searching it out just goes to show that there is a porn existing for every fetish out there. Or maybe not porn, per se, but at least loving celebration. By the way, the website is too expensive and lacking on sex/nudity for me, but by golly, I do love their manifesto:
Welcome to Girls with Hairy Arms. Here, we speak out against the increasing social trends of arms waxing, shaving or 'lasering' as a part of a very narrow-minded definition of beauty that has been surging through Western culture.
Natural is beautiful. Self-confidence is powerful. It is the mission of this website and its supporters to show all women that by being yourself and natural doesn't stop you from being beautiful.
Just reading through the girls' own biographies/statements and their tales of being made to feel shame about their hairiness is incredibly interesting. I'm curious as to my readers/blog visitors. How do you feel about arm hair? Any tales to tell?
Saturday, September 6, 2008
She's a Dirty Girl: On Being Disgusting
This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.Thursday, August 28, 2008
Porn Merchandise: Pictures, T-Shirts, and . . . Skateboards???
This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.Wednesday, August 27, 2008
SIR Video Returns!
After so long hearing nothing new from S.I.R. Video (Shar Redenour and Jackie Strano's break-through company that brought you such great real lesbian porn like "Hard Love/How To Fuck In High Heels" and "Sugar High Glitter City"), they've finally come out of hiding with a new project!Well, to be technically honest, their website is still as depressing as ever, reassuring that the years-long "redecorating" is going on, and please visit Fatale Media in the meantime. But their Myspace is fortunately alive and kickin' (thanks again, Myspace!). Not much information about the new endeavor is available- but they're definitely recruiting lots of genderqueer folks, which will be a nice change from their cool, sex-positive but quite heterosexually-aimed "Bend Over Boyfriend" series and "Talk To Me, Baby" video. It should be quite interesting to see how their work differs from their previous films, given the queer/lesbian porn niche's explosive growth within the last decade.
So welcome back, S.I.R. Video! I've missed you.And if you're a dyke, femme, butch, or tranny who wants to be the star of this brand spankin' new porno, all you've got to do is email them (graciously linked because, you know, in case you couldn't read the posters). Now ain't the time to be shy, my little perverts! Go out and help make S.I.R. Video another great, contemporary dyke porn company.
And keep your eyes peeled for the finished product!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Book Review: “Sex For America: Politically Inspired Erotica”
I would have liked to put in my own review of Rachel Kramer Bussel's "Spanked!", like everyone else is doing, but unfortunately, I don't have a copy handy (and really, Jiz's favorable and sexy review should be enough to convince you to buy it). So I may not have "Spanked!", but I would like to put in a review of a book I do have, Stephen Elliot's "Sex For America: Politically Inspired Erotica", especially given how appropriate politics are at this time.It's rather intriguing, I think, that Elliot also has out another book, under the title of "Even More Politically Inspired Fiction". Oddly enough, though, there is no prequel or original to this, except for "Sex For America", which bills itself not as fiction, but as erotica. This in itself might be a warning clue to what you'll find inside. Elliot, after all, is not primarily an erotica writer- though he has one erotic collection ("My Girlfriend Comes To The City And Beats Me Up"), his background is more mainstream fare. And while I want everyone to be able to break free of their molds and try out dirty writing (dirty editing?), perhaps it really ought be left to the professionals.
Most of the stories here don't register much heat- I would only go to a few as masturbatory aids. Others aren't much to write home about, and some are fabulous, but not really in the "political erotica" category. I still have high hopes for political erotica, and part of me wonders where all the expected stories might be. Were the authors so eager to go outside the box? Did Stephen Elliot pick and choose out of a bigger pool? I'm just at a loss.
But, nonetheless, here is a break-down of the book after the jump. I honestly think you can find a lot of good stories here, maybe not for your bedside drawer, but at the very least for your literary shelves.
Jerry Stahl’s “Li’l Dickens” gets points for sheer gravitas: writing erotica about Dick Cheney has got to be the most daunting task in the world. And yet . . . he nails it, perfectly. Mind you, it’s not the kind of story where you really want to be visualizing the action, but the characterization of a smirky, kinky, powerful Dick, the selection of details, and the clever, tongue-in-cheek twist on the Harry Whittington scandal all make this a true winner . . . and oddly sexy. It’s no surprise the story had previously been published- it has everything going for it. Great opener.
Michelle Tea’s “Music From Earth” is ultimately a little bit of a let-down. The premise- a San Francisco-dwelling lesbian returns home to hurricane Erica-ravaged Florida and ends up sleeping with a male friend about to ship off to war- is a good one, but in execution, it seems to lose something. I’ve felt this way before about Michelle Tea’s fiction; it’s hard to connect with the narrator, feel sympathy for the characters, and, at least here, to find much eroticism in the quick and passionless sex. The story tries- it has the sex, the politics, and a good idea- but just doesn’t push through. At the very least, I imagine it could have much more success in a different anthology, one not classified as “erotica”.
Mistress Morgana’s “An Open Letter To The Bush Administration” is probably the most brilliant piece of writing in the entire book- a letter from a professional dominatrix to the Bush administration, detailing how their S&M-esque tactics have outshone her and made it impossible for her small business to stay financially afloat. Short and well-written, smart and ironic rather than angry, it’s a gem. While not erotica per se, it deals enough with sexuality that I think it fits in quite well.
Avital Gad-Cykman’s “Tamar’s Prayers” doesn’t really make sense to me. The entire time I was reading it, I kept trying to place it in terms of locale and time and situation, and still couldn’t pinpoint it. Is this a wartime tale in a foreign country? A science fiction tale set in the future? An allegorical depiction of the U.S. as a fairytale-ish myth? Either way, I couldn’t tell, and the sadness of the tale undercut the sex, at least for me. Is it so much to ask that an erotic story actually show someone enjoying themselves?
Anthony Swofford’s “Escape and Evasion” initially gave me hope for something seriously sexy, from its opening line: “When the recruiter asked the queer questions I had a hard-on”. Unfortunately, it falls apart after that, turning into an [admittedly riveting] look into the “Ether Bandit”, a rapist who uses ether to violate men in the Army. Like many of the other stories here, it’s quite good- it was honestly a page-turner, and the ending was perfectly ironic and cinched it for me. But erotic? Not even remotely. The sex here is outright, pre-meditated rape in a way that will leave most readers cold- again, as in “My Most Memorable Encounter”, the rape is not eroticized for forced sex fantasies, and the vivid details of the bloody physical damage are disturbing, to say the least. And the political here is limited to the setting being war- beyond that, there is no discussion of it. It seems to be a trend in this book- good stories that belong somewhere else.
Jami Attenberg’s “Victory Garden” is another one of the set-in-the-future tales, but where the others portray the future as a crazy, gone-wild, topsy-turvy world, this one is refreshingly realistic and somehow subtle in the way that only great, thoughtful writing can provide. The setting is a world where the president has started four wars, and oil is now essentially gone. But life soldiers on, not in dystopian, Mad Max-style hell, but in a surprisingly old-fashioned-feeling rural kind of America. Cars are gone, both as modes of transportation and as places for sex. (And I might add that other little details- condoms being unable to be made without oil, for example, really make the story). Unfortunately, what seems to be missing from this story is an erotic encounter between the two characters. It’s like the author lost the last page he meant to submit . . . it could have been beautiful. I’m in mourning for the sex scene that never was.
Lydia Millet’s “Desert Shield” was a bit above and beyond my political knowledge. To be quite honest, I gave up on this story, which managed to be full of names I should probably know, but was also strange enough to leave me mostly unimpressed.
Daphne Gottlieb’s “Undone” hits the mark on being political with its gay marriage debate focus- definitely a hot topic right now, and still a controversial one for straights and queers alike. And while I love that it sheds some light on the emotional component of folks who never expected the offer of marriage rights, and questions the taken-for-granted belief that all GLBTQ partners would jump at marriage if only they could, I once again ask- where’s the heat? For that matter, where’s the sex? This is an erotica collection, right?
Jonathan Ames’ “Womb Shelter” tries to be provocative, but ends up stretching the word play of “womb shelter” (instead of “bomb shelter”) far too thin. Some of the writing is quite clever (the Jewish bit is great), but there isn’t much of a real story and little eroticism, particularly in his recollection of his nervous and decidedly unsexy tryst with a prostitute.
Eric Orner’s short, animated strip “Fear and Loathing In Chelsea” (I hesitate to call it ‘cartoon’ or ‘comic’) caught me off-guard, actually, and impressed me a quite a bit. I wouldn’t classify it as erotic, really, although sex plays a minor part in it. And it’s not really “political” in the traditional sense of Senators and Capitol Hill. And yet this short piece manages to hit the nail on the head perfectly, criticizing both narcissistic gay male culture and the whole “Politically Correct” movement.
Alison Tyler’s “Measure A, B, or Me?” manages to score a huge goal, as Alison Tyler always seems to do. The story is neither too long nor too short, has an explicit sexual focus, and incorporates politics quite nicely. Bonus perk: even though both protagonists are on the Left, the story doesn’t fall into a Bush-bashing or Right-vilifying mood. The story is a real winner- cute, clever, and hot. An actual erotic story, meant to turn you on, and the characters even know one another and love each other! Props, Alison, props.
James Frey’s “The Candidate’s Wife” is a tantalizing idea- a Democratic worker on the Hill sleeping with the wife of the Republican candidate. And it’s still rather sexy, but while reading it, I had to inject some of my own images, imagination, and fantasy to get “there”, mostly because the writing seems to explicitly keep away from the characters, presumably to add the naughtiness of the casual encounter, and to keep the mystery . . . but it ends up frustrating instead. It’s still good- I just wish the people weren’t held at an arm’s distance.
Charlie Ander’s “Transfixed, Helpless, and Out Of Control: Election Night 2004”, wherein someone gets topped and worked over while being told of the horrors to come in the Bush administration, isn’t a new plot (in fact, it’s essentially the same that appears in “Social Contract”), but the execution here is impeccable. Ander’s writing style feels a little like Pat Califia (the highest compliment I can give) and the story is just much more delicate and emotional than the editor’s own piece, not to mention much sexier and more erotic. Five stars for arousing both my mind and my genitals.
Nick Flynn’s “A Crystal Formed Entirely Of Holes” is a pretty damn cool story, mixing futuristic technology with popular “alt” youth culture to paint a portrait of some rather extreme new body modification. Unfortunately, the story mostly misses the mark on the political aspect, and the erotic aspects, which have so much potential, are only briefly skirted, in tantalizing little teases that never fully evolve into an actual sex scene. Don’t get me wrong- I really do adore this piece and find it smart and fantastically creative and well-written . . . but it would fit much better in a different anthology, or else by incorporating more eroticism (again, something I think could be done very easily).
Rick Moody’s “Notes Of Redevelopment” is by far the queerest, kinkiest, and naughtiest story of the bunch, even though it manages to not classify as erotica, really. Set far in a future U.S. where a lot of significant changes have taken place (part of the country has seceded, slavery exists, China and other countries are the most powerful nations, and conservatism has run rampant, including the G-Rated Only Family Film Act Of 2012), an anonymous transwoman gives some advice to the country’s leaders, mostly by the way of revitalizing the sex and porn industries in very kinky, futuristic ways. The story is just a lot of fun to read- political, but not quite erotica. Still, it gets thumbs up from me.
Tsaurah Litzky’s “Purple Tulip” is a mess. On one hand, I see quite clearly the flash of brilliance in what is otherwise the muck- the interesting concept of an angry, contemptuous Amsterdam man fucking out his aggression towards the U.S. with an American woman (with the cultures so clearly and starkly diametrical). But the rest of the pieces dangle like unfinished strings- the inexplicable addition of the one-armed hooker who is the title’s namesake, the drugs, and the fact that the main sex scene turns painful, panicked, and is essentially rape renders all of the initial eroticism null and void. It’s so jumbled and pointless that I almost wonder if it was at least semi-autobiographical for the author.
Michelle Richmond’s “Milk” actually made me gasp out loud- not something most fiction can do. The beginning had me scratching my head- another confusing tale with apparently no discernable setting and no explanation. But halfway through, everything is revealed, and the twist is SO unexpected, yet makes so much sense . . . it truly is a well-crafted story. The politics of the horrific act of sacrifice work wonderfully for the political aspect, though the erotic just isn’t really there. It, too, doesn’t really belong in an erotic collection, but I’m too in love with it to complain much.
Stephen Elliot’s “Social Contract” feels like a weaker heterosexual version of “Transfixed, Helpless, and Out Of Control: Election Night 2004” fast-forwarded past the election night. There’s great BDSM action, but without delving into any real emotion or giving us deep characterization, I can’t feel much connection with the story, and unlike Ander’s, there is no description of the feelings aroused by the physical torture/pleasuring or the mindfuck . . . it reads like a laundry list of what the dominatrix does, with no reaction, no orgasm, no pleasure. The editor’s sole piece just doesn’t measure up in my opinion.
Keith Knight’s comic strips War-gy and Energy Policy aren’t anything to write home about- essentially, they’re just dirtier versions of your average political cartoons, with lots of literal fucking as a play on words of the way the Bush administration has fucked us over. To be quite honest, while it fits in the book’s theme, it feels old and clichéd, and most certainly wouldn’t qualify as “erotic comics”. They aren’t nearly as impressive as Eric Orner’s piece.
Vanessa Norton’s “Dirty Heaven” combines an intriguing kleptomaniac narrator who gets paired up with a cute boy as she goes about making her door-to-door political spiels. The story starts out strong; the initial attraction and shy interaction was subtle enough to get me wet with anticipation of what was to come next, and I was sold by the time serious groping and kissing was going on. And then . . . it all falls apart. They go to the laundry room but there is no more sex- the narrator tries drugs for the first time, vomits, and that’s about it. Why, Vanessa Norton, why? The story had so much potential to be erotic, and ends up letting readers down tremendously.
Liz Henry’s “Capitol Punishment” isn’t a stand-out tale, but it fulfills all requirements: lots of sex, explicit political focus. The characters are a little detached and cynical in a way that makes them unappealing, although they have do have little endearing moments occasionally. And the BDSM sex can be a little sexy, although the emotional detachment, the lack of real investment in the sex, seems to rob it of some of its heat. I guess I’d just caution that it’s not an amazing story, but neither is it a poor piece of writing. It’s just so-so, but at least it fits in the parameters of the anthology, something a lot of stories here can’t claim.
Pete Orner’s “The Last Socialist” is short and pointless- a page and a half of dry intellectual dialogue exchanged between lovers, and a paragraph of two-minute sex that the narrator describes as like “two wet seals thumping” and leaves the woman [obviously] unfulfilled. Not sexy. Not that political (or at least not straightforward about it). Not worth your time.
Susan O’Doherty’s “My Most Memorable Encounter” is a shockingly good piece of fiction, and a shockingly poor piece of erotica. The story of a young, self-conscious girl thrust into an adult political party and taken advantage of rings true on every level; you feel like you’re in the story. Unfortunately, the rape and abuse at the end is not sexy or even attempting to be sexy. This is not eroticized non-consent or reluctance that a reader with a rape fantasy can enjoy. It’s a sad, bittersweet, heart-wrenching tale, but erotica- not by a long shot.
Steve Almond’s “The True Republic” is another wacky set-in-the-future piece that actually shadows a lot of the details of “Notes Of Redevelopment”, oddly enough (for example, the secession of part of the U.S.). I feel like this story is just trying too hard to push the envelope and be wild and crazy, with an ending that’s supposed to be ironic. It just feels . . . forced. It’s political, alright, and sexual (I wouldn’t go so far to call the odd synthetic virgin orgies erotic, even if I found synthetic virgin orgies erotic . . . there’s not enough description at all), but it never quite gets to the place it wants to go.
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