April 6, 2010

A Little Bondage, A Lot of Trouble

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Last week the Grand Old Party found itself embroiled in yet another sexual imbroglio. Members of its national committee were revealed to have spent party dime on a debauched evening at a sex-themed nightclub, wining and dining top donors to the beat of stripper anthems and simulated girl-on-girl action. Voyeur, as the L.A. establishment fashions itself, is a “provocative” enclave where “exclusive clientele” can enjoy “risqué photography … with impromptu performances,” according to its website.

Who knew the Republicans had such a libido?

Well, everyone, I guess. GOPers, forced by their sexless public image to channel their natural energies in the most unnatural of ways, have had their fair share of bathroom stall and pageboy scandals. And their hottest product on the market — Sarah Palin — has a not-so-subtle carnal undercurrent to her down-home image (just picture that famously coy wink — oy!).

But the fact remains that, beyond Alaskan hot mamma flirtation and Bob Dole-/Viagra-inspired geezer virility, our political establishment’s red half purports to be the id-less conscience of our sin-soaked nation. Which is precisely why scandals like the Voyeur outing are so chock full of schadenfreude: Everyone likes seeing the blowhard moralist hoisted by his own petard.

But, as usually happens in the American news cycle, there’s a story from the other side to balance things out. Erykah Badu, the sultry songstress of soul (and cultural opposite of GOP whitebread abstemiousness), has found herself in the media hot seat over the past week after stripping naked in a Dallas square for her “Window Seat” video. Check it out online: Striding along the sidewalk past kids and grandparents (there was no closed set), she gradually loses it all to the confused stares of passersby.

But the titillating aspect of the video isn’t just the titties. The square where Badu set her little film just so happened to be Dealey Plaza, where J.F.K. was shot. The video was filmed in the style of a 1960s newsreel and features an audio sample of the assassination day’s news coverage. And, perhaps most damningly, it ends with Badu crumpling to the ground, the victim of a sniper perched in some nearby office building.

Fox News, in good American fashion, aired a segment last week discussing the possibility of parents filing suit against the artist — emotional damage, or something asinine like that. Soon, a mini Internet controversy was born. People pontificated. Finally, nearly three weeks after the video shoot, the Dallas police announced that they were hitting Badu with a $500 fine for disorderly conduct.

Ouch. Well, we all can’t be saints. But whether or not you think Badu’s little stroll ’n’ strip was in good taste — personally, I think it’d make a great addition to Oliver Stone’s JFK DVD — there’s no denying the fact that the whole historical / political context was what really caused the fine. After all, Dallas authorities lagged behind Fox News and the instapundits in their condemnation — and then conveniently held a press conference to announce the punishment just as the video was surfacing on the Internet, its subtext clear to all.

Sex, it seems, is okay. But sex and politics? Hell no.

The issue here isn’t your run-of-the-mill political sex scandal. When we discover our senators doing the old bathroom shoe-tap or find our governors traipsing to Argentina for a little Latin lovin’, we couch our concern in respect for fidelity — a rational argument. After all, if our politicians can’t even keep a promise to their spouses, how can they keep their promises to us? The sordid erotic details are just icing on the cake of a typical “breach of trust” scandal.

The brouhahas surrounding the Voyeur vamps and the Badu boobie-shake are of a different breed entirely. There’s not a hint of dishonesty here; rather, it’s the mere commingling of feminine sexuality and politics that gets us all perturbed. Governating is ostensibly a  matter of the head — at the very most, the heart — and anything located lower is strictly forbidden. We barely raise an eyebrow when the president is found to have broken laws surrounding torture and eavesdropping — but a blow job in the Oval Office? Oh, ignominy!

In Aristophanes’ play Lysistrata, the women of Athens refuse to do the dirty thang with their hubbies until the war with Sparta is ended. As they see it, men will do anything if their sex quota is threatened. Just as planned, the Athenian males  arrive, boners bulging, and agree to their wives’ terms.

Are we really so much more prudish than fifth-century Athenians? Are we really scared that sex will corrupt our none-too-classy political arena? There’s no hiding the fact that the two are inextricably linked — just think of the aforementioned Palin wink, Bill Clinton’s suave masculinity or Obama’s GQ cover pose — but we still want to deny it. Violence, cheating and slander are all welcome. A little hanky-panky, never.

What silliness. If we allowed a little more sex in our system, maybe we wouldn’t have to direct all our animal energies toward war. Let’s take a hint from the Athenians: Sex plays a role in everything we do, so let’s take advantage of the fact. Why not use the libido for greater good? We could play with more natural rifles. We could do better things with our handcuffs. Out of the Middle East, I say, and into the bedsheets.

Original Author: Ted Hamilton