Lisa of Sociological Images says
Fabian D. S. sent us this screenshot from a men’s health email he gets:
Along the bottom it reads: “Get the sex you deserve.”
The phrase could be read: “Get the SEX you deserve.” That is, get sex. Or it could be read: “Get THE SEX you deserve.” That is, get awesome mindblowing sex. The context reveals that it’s the latter meaning and I’ve seen this sentiment (but not the former) in material aimed at women, too. I wonder when, in American history, we decided we were entitled to awesome sex. I can’t imagine that pioneer husbands and wives, after spending all day trying to not to die (whether it be that day or that winter), and lying on a straw mattress next to their six children in their freezing/sweaty one-room home, felt pouty if their sex wasn’t mindblowing. The entitlement to great sex, then, must have come later (at least to the regular folk). I would bet it had something to do with capitalism and the commodification of pleasure, generally, and sex, specifically. After all, how do you get the sex you deserve? Well, you buy the right products: whether that be, for example, diet- and exercise-related products, cosmetic surgery, or sex toys. Ariel Levy said it very well (watch the 2nd video down here especially starting at 1:22… but all the clips are great).
It’s actually a great question, one with possibly a complicated answer.
First of all, of course, would be that (for those of us who’ve read the entire “Little House on the Prairie” series to our children anyway) it’s pretty clear they didn’t feel entitled to very much at all. A piece of candy and a hair clip for Christmas, the luxury of a new food that came into season (followed by quite a lot of ennui because the new food might be all they had besides the usual staples for weeks or even months), a Bible and maybe months or years old “Godey’s Lady’s Book” magazines, and…
...considerable body modesty even between married partners… even when the nearest neighbor was several days ride away.
Which in the context of the times was probably all for the best because of a) the widely-held but obviously incorrect knowledge that ejaculating “as often as” ten times a year was believed to be more fatal to a man than drinking a quart of whiskey a day and b) the widely-held and absolutely true knowledge that sex=pregnancy and pregnancy = pregnancy-related mother and infant mortality.
Outside the U.S. Henry David Thoreau’s “Walden” is read primarily as a formal philosophical exercise into the limits of what is essential for a civilized life and what we only imagine we’re entitled to. The list is of what really is essential, he concludes is, um, spare. And roughly equal to… the material lives of the pioneer husbands and wives Lisa mentions. (I’ll get back to Thoreau in just a moment.)
On the other hand!
Whether we consider ourselves more refined, more spoiled, or simply more in denial than the Thoreaus and Wilders of the world, it’s certainly the case that we imagine ourselves entitled to refrigeration, indoor plumbing, a variety of wholesome foods, fair pay for honest work, and, more recently, decent bandwidth speeds. And so I think it’s fair to imagine that when we have sex we’re entitled to awesome sex. Or at least not miserable sex.
Which gets to what I think is the core of the complaint about that ad. Thoreau also talked about the men and women in his community who crushed themselves with debt, stress, and deprivation in order to maintain a facade of prosperity they felt they deserved. My concern about the ad is that rather than encouraging people (considering the illustration they probably mean specifically men) to enjoy sex while making sure their partners are enjoying it with them they’re instead creating an impression that the sex they’re already having is inadequate.
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Also, just to be a bit tetchy here, the problem with putting sex in the context of “deserved” is that it ties into the notion that sex is something that’s earned. Which implies that it’s not shared but transferable. Which means it’s a value that can be dispensed from those with a “surplus” (i.e. women who under the convenient ideology of the no-sex class paradigm wouldn’t otherwise have any use for it) to a) those who “legitimately” prove themselves worthy of “getting” sex or b) those who obtain it by, um, other means.




