We know D.C. Get our free newsletter to stay in the know.

I am not writing this letter out of outrage over your article “Porn Yesterday” (12/5), because I feel none. If Mr. Guye wishes to live with strippers and shoot pornographic videos, whatever. If he chooses to paint his head pink and worship the sun god Braal by stapling his lips to an armadillo, whatever. If he chooses to work in the offices of McDonnell-Douglas, grow a peptic ulcer, and ignore his friends and family, whatever. There’s simply no relevance in this to my life, and to most people’s lives, to be honest. I have a difficult time even understanding what you felt was so notable and newsworthy about this person’s existence. (I also don’t understand Mr. Tapper’s assertion that a Hydian strand of DNA causes every adult male to chase cheap sex throughout his teens and 20s, but then again, I may be one of the few heterosexual males who can’t comprehend the allure of lesbians. Every time I hear someone discuss how arousing that is, I feel as if I crash-landed on Earth in a space ship 26 years ago rather than being born.)

I mean, what is so compelling about Mr. Guye’s lifestyle that “almost any straight male who hears of it—no matter age, race, or marital or socio-economic status—expresses jealousy over” it? As I read the article, he lives with two women who think of him as a toy they occasionally use to spice up their sex life. Woo-hoo. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me. (And please, don’t think I write this in an attempt to suck up or be politically correct here. I’m one of the few people I know who think Lolita should be shown in theaters in this country, that women have most of the control in heterosexual relationships, and that mindless sex is far and away a much more preferable release of tension and frustration than mindless violence, which seems to be this country’s fastest-growing sublimation device. I just don’t find mindless sex enviable.)

And the sex industry in general also seems like a rather dull way to make a living, taking something that can, if properly engaged in, assume sacramental qualities and reducing it to the mechanics of nonreproductive aerobics. I assume at least part of this attitude was the point of the article, but the whole experience just didn’t seem…well, like anything newsworthy. Wasn’t anything else happening? (Of course, being that I’m the kind of guy who’d find either a Slayer/Megadeth nostalgia tour or a reading of the collected works of John Keats more newsworthy, it could be that I’m not exactly sitting around with my finger on the pulse of the city.)

Enough of this. It bores me, and probably you, too.

Dupont Circle

via the Internet