I used to write a dating blog once, which was inspired largely by two people: Rachel Kramer-Bussel and Belle de Jour. Rachel was brave enough to write about sex under her real name, and with photographs; Belle wanted to keep her anonymity, as a high-end call girl who also had a day job. She wrote and published books under her assumed name; a BBC TV series was made, based on her books, starring Billie Piper; not even her agent knew who she was. Until now.

In an interview with Sunday Times, which may or not may be inspired by the fact there is an ex-boyfriend with a big mouth, and Daily Mail might or not have contacted Belle beforehand to try and strike a deal, the identity of the anonymous blogger is revealed, and it is way impressive. “Her name is Dr Brooke Magnanti. Her specialist areas are developmental neurotoxicology and cancer epidemiology. She has a PhD in informatics, epidemiology and forensic science and is now working at the Bristol Initiative for Research of Child Health. She is part of a team researching the effects of exposure to the pesticide chlorpyrifos on foetuses and infants.” She worked as a call-girl for 14 months, because she ran out of money while writing her PhD and couldn’t get a job in the field before she completed it.

I remember reading Belle’s blog and being impressed by the quality of writing; by her stories; by her no-nonsense, no-guilt approach to being a sex worker. A lot of people liked to think that, yes, perhaps Belle was a prostitute and didn’t feel guilty about it, but she was fictional; now Dr Magnanti’s revelation means that not only she is real, but also 1) a woman, 2) very attractive, 3) very intelligent and educated — and still she feels no guilt or remorse about having worked as a call girl. People who like to say all prostitutes are drug addicts and/or half-brain-half-biscuit self-hating miserable beings who hate themselves will have a tough time explaining that one.

“How many men has she slept with for money? ?A lot.? Dozens? Hundreds? ?I can?t honestly remember,? she says, laughing. ?Somewhere between dozens and hundreds.? Then India Knight, who conducted the interview, adds: “The laughter isn?t entirely convincing”. Of course it isn’t, India, it would be so disturbing if it was, right? She MUST feel guilty, even if she says she doesn’t. “I scrutinise her face without quite knowing what I?m looking for ? dead eyes, maybe, like in a movie, or something a bit grim and hard around the mouth. But both are perfectly normal; she is, if anything, sweet-faced and gentle-looking.” It would be so much more handy if she was a tough street-wise lady who barks in baritone while shooting around icy cold looks that could kill a cockroach, wouldn’t it?

“No regrets, then? Did she ever feel lonely? ?Sometimes. But, again, because of the writing, not because of the sex. And being anonymous is no fun. No jolly lunches to celebrate the book?s success; I couldn?t even go to my own launch party. On the plus side, I didn?t have to do book tours.? Until now. ?Yes, until now.?

I am not saying being a sex worker is a piece of cake, and/or that every single woman or man who has ever worked in that particular business has enjoyed it thoroughly and feels no remorse. But then, I never claimed to know what every single sex worker feels like — unlike the conservative right, who fight to delegalise prostitution and pornography because it objectifies women, without asking women themselves how they feel about it. I believe that it is this approach — the holier-than-thou “I know what you feel like better than you do” — that really objectifies people. And I am very happy to see that Belle/Brooke will not bow and admit that she feels guilty and unhappy and wishes that sex and liquor never tempted her towards the sinful life.

(Plus, I hope that Belle’s blog will continue.)

As some of the readers of this blog know, I have broken up with Scipio in October 2007 and since then went through various phases trying to discover what exactly it was that I wanted from life. I’ve had casual sex. I’ve been multidating with more than one guy at the same time (well not at the same time, on consecutive days — I stuck to what my colleague calls local monogamy, i.e. no more than one person other than me in bed at any given moment in time). I’ve tried friendship with benefits, fuck buddies and sexless dating for months. And, while I can’t say I know with 100% certainty what exactly is going to make me happy in life, I know what definitely isn’t, and that something is an open relationship. (And sexless dating for months.)
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Consider the following image: two women tie a man to the chair, then put clamps on his nipples, brutally play with his genitals not allowing him to come, then one of them sits on top of the man and satisfies herself with his penis, then the other does the same.

Now consider the same image, but with gender roles reversed: two men tie a woman to a chair, put clamps on her nipples, brutally insert their fingers into her vagina, then both use her body to satisfy themselves. Does the imagery awake the same associations in you, or slightly different?

I’ll give you a hint about what I mean: to me, the first image sounds like a porn scene (let’s leave aside the questions as to whether it’s an especially imaginative porn scene, is porn in good taste, etc.) The second sounds like rape. Does that make me: sexist? Feminist? Post-feminist? Stupid?

A blog I discovered after the author lost interest in it, Brotherlove, wrote about a similar setup in gay version: there are movies in which, say, six black men “capture” a white guy, then abuse him in all ways imaginable. That kind of porn sells great amounts. But if six white men captured a black guy, then tied him down and abused, it would sound like some kind of sick KKK video. The first imagery makes me aroused, the second imagery makes me feel very uneasy and hope the makers of such movie end up in trouble. What if the white men were blonde, buff and dressed in uniforms, and the black guy was very slim and dressed in black and white striped pyjamas? It’s just clothes, right? It’s just a fantasy, right? It’s alright as long as nobody gets hurt, right? Or isn’t it? Why is it so unimaginable that there might actually exist black males that would find the second movie arousing if the audience for the first movie mostly consists of white men?

A certain Polish blogger, let’s leave the identity out of equation, used to write those fiery posts about how any kind of penis-in-orifice penetration in sex is, basically, wrong. He equated it with a man taking possession over a woman’s/other man’s body, called it rape, destruction and other loaded words. The same blogger, now, a few years later, informs us on his gaydar page that he likes to be fisted. I have to admit that I see nothing wrong with either of those stances (although personally neither appeals to me), but the fact that the same person, in relatively short distance of time, professes such radically different views, makes me feel uneasy. Am I just shallow?

I used to date a black American man — let’s call him B — for a while and introduced him to a few of my colleagues (coincidentally he broke up with me two days later, but I don’t think it was because of my colleagues). A few months later I was having a conversation with my boss where I mentioned it would be lovely to employ someone from Africa at our company because we have people from Europe, America, Australia and Asia, but no real Africans — only some people of Surinamese descent but that doesn’t really count if you live in the Netherlands. One of my colleagues overheard that conversation and bursted “yeah, we know about your taste”. My taste has never been mentioned in this context when I was in a three year relationship with Scipio, who happens to be white.

A few weeks later, on a drinking night, I have blurted half-jokingly and half-drunkenly that my experience with B makes me never want to date a black American guy again. The same colleague who mentioned my taste earlier was appalled at the statement, and I don’t believe it was because I used the word “American”.

Which one of us is racist? Either? None? Both? Does the fact we weren’t sober on either of the occasions make it better or worse?

Yet another difficult to answer question: if you are only attracted to people of the same skin colour, are you a racist? If you are only attracted to people of a different race than your own, are you a racist? If you are white, but only attracted to people of colour, are you subconsciously being colonialist? If you are black, but only attracted to white people, are you subconsciously compensating for something? Can you be “innocently” attracted to people of a different race and avoid those questions?

Another example: imagine a black man calling his white boyfriend a racist in a fight over something. Is this fair? Could his white boyfriend retort with the same card and if he did, how would both parties feel about that?

How would I have felt if I were told that Amsterdam will organise Straight Pride next year? What kind of haircut, political stance and messages would I subconsciously expect to dominate Straight Pride? Would Straight Pride be a happy celebration of varied kinds of human sexuality, a jolly occasion attended by hundreds of thousands of visitors, who would afterwards go to street parties, dances and, well, sex clubs? What kind of sex clubs would a typical Straight Pride devotee like to visit?

If you are a straight married man who reads a gay man’s blog where the aforementioned gay man writes openly about his sex life, what is your motivation? If you are a gay man who loves reading women’s blogs about their dates and sex life, what is your motivation? If you are a straight woman who loves reading gay man’s blog, what is your motivation?

Can a female prostitute enjoy her job? Is it really worse to be a prostitute who enjoys her job than to be an office worker who hates her or his job profoundly but stays there anywhere? Is it easier or harder to imagine a male prostitute enjoying his job than it is to imagine a female prostitute enjoying hers? What words come to your mind when you imagine a woman who genuinely enjoys making money through being an escort — she isn’t a victim forced by her brutal pimp/kidnapped in Eastern Europe/a mental patient/drug addict/whatever other justifications you may come up with, she just REALLY likes doing what she do and the fact she gets money for it makes it her dream job? Does asking those questions make you think I must be a sick pervert? (I actually write this on a sunny Sunday afternoon, while eating pasta and stir-fry chicken; I am not hiding in the darkness, there are no candles around and I haven’t consumed any drugs or alcohol before I started writing. Is this surprising?)

Are certain things more okay for some people than for others?

Will this blog posting get me into trouble, and if yes, why?

Do you find this posting offensive, and if yes, why?

Brotherlove writes: “Like most of us involved in this discussion, I am offering more questions than answers.” Do we actually know the answers, both him and me, just don’t dare to write them down?