By Jack Rinella
Published in 2004 by Greenery Press

Just when I was ready to give up on ever reading a well-written BDSM book I happened to pluck this little gem from my collection. Unlike most of the Greenery Press’ writers, Rinella writes in a clear concise style. Better still, rather than rambling about fantasies he has, he incorporates the experiences of others into his narrative and uses those experiences to explain things he’s already discussed or introduce new ideas.

If you are unfamiliar with the Greenery Press’ Toybag Guides, they are small pocket-sized books devoted to BDSM topics. Though Rinella spends most of his discussion on the most common of all clamps, clothespins, he also discusses other styles of clamps discussing their utility and limitations.

I can only think of two things he fails to discuss about clamps. First, in his listing of clamps used in play, he does not discuss sheet metal clamps. This may be due to the fact that they are less commonly used in play or it may be because they are comparatively more dangerous than the other clamps he discusses (a concern he could hardly be faulted for having). That he simply is unaware of them, while possible, seems unlikely.

While some people enjoy modifying their play clothespins with small nails or other objects to increase their bite, I personally have never found the reward worth the effort. That Rinella didn’t mention this bothers me not at all. However, I was surprised that he didn’t mention that clothespins can be taken apart and reversed for a different sensation. For those who love trivia, folks in the motion picture industry refer to a clothespin as a “C47” and a reversed clothespin as a “C74.” (Full credit for that tidbit of knowledge belongs to Hardy Haberman (Myspace link) for that bit of knowledge.)

Despite this book’s short length, I enjoyed it and it will remain a handy reference for years to come.

When I first started thumbing through the pages of the Big Book of Porn, I didn’t want to like it. For one thing, despite its title, it didn’t take long to notice that it contains almost nothing that is actually porn.Another thing I noticed was how slickly printed this book is. Not only is there an author, the book has a designer and illustrator. Every page is printed in full vibrant colors on heavy slick paper using designs that seem inspired by Adobe Flash, a fact which didn’t bode well for the actual words.

The book begins with a timeline of important events in the history of pornographic movies. While I might have omitted some events Grahame-Smith includes and included others he omits, this is hardly worth quibbling over and sets a good tone for the rest of the book.

The second section is devoted to reviews of classic porno films. It’s here that the omissions and inclusions bug me as Grahame-Smith’s tastes stay consistently mainstream and relatively tame. Each title includes a blurb that lists its director, cast, running time, fetishes covered, and memorable quote. Maybe I’m jaded, but facials and girl/girl just don’t rise to the level of fetish in my book. There’s little on his list that’s surprising or even outré which is a shame. Still, this is a handy reference of older titles that are worth watching. Grahame-Smith also uses this section to highlight some more recent pornographic films that he thinks will become classics and a pair of “weird” classics. There is a guide for caring for your porn included in this section which seems out of place.

Grahame-Smith next turns his attention to listing significant mainstream actors, actresses, and directors. These biographies were thorough but left me wanting more which is always a good sign. Once again in an attempt to stay current, he lists five current actresses who may reach the list someday. That left me wanting less.

The fourth section is devoted to the various genres of porn and places to procure porn. His survey of porn genres is akin to a guided tour of what you will find if you visit your local adult video store. (Or maybe it’s just the local stores I patronize?) At any rate, I have no idea who needs help finding adult movies. Or at least, I can’t imagine how anyone who couldn’t find it already would benefit from the advice in this book.

After a tour of the world as it relates to their laws and consumption of pornography, the book includes a lengthy section on how to make your own porn. Though I can’t imagine ever wanting to make my own homemade adult movie, if I ever do I will make a point to consult this book as the advice seems straightforward and beneficial.

The book concludes with a glossary of terms related to sex and pornographic movies. This is the book’s best moment. Instead of limiting the glossary to standard terms, it includes several which were quite unique. My personal favorite is “Hunting Bin Laden” defined as “Flooding on of your partner’s orifices with liquid, either through an enema or by urinating into them.” It was nice to know there was a common term for that. I personally always called it jet skiing after the text following an advertising store sign “WATER SPORTS ARE HERE!”

I wish that coverage was more inclusive - there’s not any meaningful mention of gay porn and the even the straight porn is limited to the most mainstream of stuff. However, Graham-Smith is such a fantastic writer he easily overcomes that limitation. He manages to write about porn in a manner that is funny without being corny or juvenile. In anyone else’s hands, this book would have turned into a cheesy mess.

This book has a slightly misleading title. When I began reading I hoped that this book would be either a dictionary or style guide for dirty talk and profanity.

While I think that I do fairly well left to my own devices, I would much enjoy a guidebook for dirty talk. Even William Shakespeare would quickly run out of imaginative ways to call his lover a nasty little slut whilst doing the deed, and I know that my dirty talk is far more repetitive than I would like to admit. Sex itself is largely repetitive, so that doesn’t seem like the end of the world. Still I would like to have new things to say when necessary.

Of course, just having new things to say isn’t enough. It’s just as important to have the right words for that special moment. Here too a guidebook would be useful. If Reader’s Digest® had an adult version of “It Pays to Enrich Your Word Power” I would be a regular subscriber. Alas, I am left to my own devices for such things.

Dirty Words and How to Use Them is another of the great faux sociological novels that were prevalent in the 1960s. This particular book examines various types of sexual fetishes driven by the written and spoken word.

Several things stand out about this book. For one thing, it introduces a number of clinical words for dirty things such as coprolalia (defined in the glossary as “sexual pleasure derived from sexual or scatological language.”), erotolalia (same as coprolalia but limited to spoken words), erotographomania (a condition where someone derives sexual pleasure from writings and drawings about sex), and others. Pull those out next time you play Scrabble® - just don’t expect them to be in The Official Scrabble Players® Dictionary.

That said, I would strongly advise against using them if you teasing your lover about you have in store for them later. It’s hard to imagine that anyone would be filled with an overwhelming passion after you told them about your plans to tie them up and engage in an intense round of erotolalia. Then again, perhaps there is such a person out there and I just don’t know them. If that’s you, do drop me a line.

Another thing that stands out about this book is that it is very well written. Even though most of the sex is rather tame compared to many of its contemporizes, the fluid style makes this a fun and easy read. Even though reading about someone who gets their sexual thrill from writing dirty words on the bathroom wall doesn’t sound that interesting, it is.

Even though this book’s title misled me, it’s a good read and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

Klysmaphilia or enema play is one of those topics that embarrasses most people to talk about, much less express an interest in. Given that, Greenery Press’ book devoted to the topic would seem a very worthwhile effort towards expanding everyone’s comfort and familiarity with the topic. Or at least, that’s what I thought prior to reading the book. Simply put, this book is shitty. It pains me to have to say that (for one thing I bristle at the bad pun) but that description is both succinct and apt.

One consistently annoying thing about BDSM books in general, and Greenery Press titles in particular, is a writing style that uses fantasy scenes interspersed in between matter of fact discussion. Having endured more of these books than anyone really ought, I have come to the conclusion that most BDSM books would not find a publisher if they were written about any other topic. Books about even such potentially mundane topics as gardening, cooking, and sewing are generally written better than even the best BDSM book. It is so bad that I own any number of books that I would be embarrassed to have the coroner find on my bookshelf not because they are dirty but simply because they are poorly written.

But I digress. The most astonishing part about Intimate Invasions is that even though it clocks in at about 140 pages, there are perhaps 20 that contain useful information. Without the awful fantasy sequences this book might have been a good fit for Greenery Press’ “Toybag Guide” series. But even that might be a stretch since even those 20 pages are not reliable because M.R. Strict’s knowledge and advice seems suspect. As bad as the factual sections are, the fantasy sequences are even worse.

Just how bad is this book? It is so bad that I would put more faith in the advice from any number of 1970s enema guides marketed by the same companies that specialized enema themed pornography. Even though they often recommend such potentially dangerous practices as giving wine enemas, they tend to demonstrate a greater passion and knowledge of their subject.

I hope that another BDSM publisher and/or author will devote a book to this worthwhile topic. They certainly will have no trouble writing something better than this

I was recently at an event where I found myself talking to a leatherman. Not only was he dressed in leather, atop his head was an amazing leather hat which perfectly framed his ountenance and vice versa. He was the personification of an idealized leatherman. As I complimented his hat, I mentioned that it made him look like he had stopped off the page of one of Tom of Finland’s drawings. He responded thoughtfully, “we all look like that on the inside.” It was a comment immense in both its beauty and insight.

If you only recently came out from under a rock and are completely unfamiliar with Tom of Finland’s work, he was, and still is, the best and most famous artist of gay erotica. His work is known for his highly stylized depictions of flawless hyper-masculine figures such as laborers and, obviously enough, leathermen.

Hooven’s biography traces Tom of Finland’s life beginning with his childhood in rural Finland to his death. I don’t know much about the background of this book’s author other than that his name shows up as the author of a book devoted to Beefcake magazines of the 50s through 70s. Were I more motivated, I might seek him out and find out more about him. Regardless, Hooven’s prose is reminiscent of the Weekly Reader. In some ways that easy writing style makes the book light and easy to read. In others, it makes the makes the book, and by extension, its subject seem a bit lightweight.

One of the book’s surprising highlights was the Tom of Finland’s service during World War II. I never really considered Finland’s participation in the war and the war’s affect on Finland before reading the book. While I don’t know enough about gay sexual expression during the war to accept or reject the veracity of Hooven’s descriptions of clandestine gay sexual encounters during the war, they were both plausible and compelling. The rest of the book traces Tom of Finland’s career as an artist from his work as a graphic illustrators to his transformation as a fulltime erotic artist, finally culminating in Tom of Finland’s recognition as an outstanding painter.

Though Hooven discusses Tom of Finland’s career as an advertising illustrator, a more detailed description of his advertising work would give the reader a broader picture of Tom of Finland’s artistic influences and background. Another detail of Tom of Finland’s life that seemed to merit more discussion was his relationship with his long term partner Veli. Despite being portrayed as a protective confidante when Tom gets cheated at business, Hooven depicts Veli as little more than a minor character in Tom of Finland’s life. Providing a more complete picture of who Tom’s life partner is and how he interacted with Tom would provide a greater insight into both Tom and his works.

Hooven also declines (fails?) to discuss Tom of Finland’s family. One wonders if he were out to them and, if so, how they reacted to his sexuality. Also, were they aware of his art and success? If so, were they proud or ashamed? If Hooven knows, he doesn’t tell the reader.

Even with these minor omissions, Hooven’s work provides a fine insight into the life and work of Tom of Finland and anyone interested in erotic artists, BDSM history, or gay and/or leather iconography will enjoy this book.

Edited by Robin Bougie
Published in 2007 by Fab Press

I don’t like comics. I suppose comics are fine if you are a little kid, but adults should have much better things to do than read comics.

I also don’t like going to the movies. If you catch me after I stand in line, pay way too much for my ticket, and get raped at the concession stand you will already have me ready to join any plan that calls for genocide. Add to that enduring the company of so many people who are using what might otherwise be precious air, and yours truly is done.

While I could watch movies at home, I rarely have the time and even less rarely have the inclination. Another hassle is that getting a good movie involves more energy than I care to invest. One problem is that there really aren’t many avenues available to get the sorts of movies that appeal to me. Some of you might be content to go to a certain national chain I won’t mention by name (it rhymes with cock duster), I think a trip there has all the appeal of the traditional movie theater.

Another thing that limits my movie watching is that few movies tickle my fancy. Even watching XXX movies is tedious. Porn is the kind of experience that should leave you feeling queasy and disturbed by the state of humanity. Unfortunately, the supply of such fare is scant and the overwhelming majority of what the porn store stocks is a bore.

So what is someone that dislikes comics and movies doing reading this book? It’s simple, Bougie’s work is so good, I couldn’t put this down. Bougie’s talent as an artist and enthusiasm for his subject comes through on each and every page such that I reconsidered my aversion to comics and movies.

The pages of Cinema Sewer focus on coverage of obscure horror, low budget 60s and 70s exploitation, Hong Kong cinema, and (my personal favorite) classic and extreme pornography.

Though Bougie’s love of extreme and obscure movies shines through in his writing, it doesn’t obscure his objectivity. When a film is good, Bougie’s excitement is contagious. If a film is bad, his criticism is biting, thought provoking, and entertaining.

While I could go on and on in singing the praises of Cinema Sewer, it is so good that you should experience it yourself. If you buy no other book this year, it should be this one. Truly the best book I have read in some time.

Tempted though I am to go on and on about this book, I am going to do you and me both a favor and keep this review as succinct as possible. What we have here is a book that consists of nothing more than a D/s couple’s emails back and forth from their initial meeting through their growing relationship. If that sounds remotely interesting, I can testify that it isn’t. Even the brief bit of bestiality is ho-hum.

The best thing about this book is that I bought my copy used so I didn’t further enrich the pockets of the either the publisher or the authors of the boring vanity piece.

I’m not sure what to make of this book’s appearance in print. On the one hand, it’s good that a publisher with the stature of Greenery Press finally went on the record and published a resource about play piercing. Yet for some reason, I can’t help but envision a self-serving politician hoisting this book in front of the cameras of a media all too eager to play along about the latest menace to our children. Even though we’re all responsible for our own behavior, I also can’t help but worry that the book might inspire someone who doesn’t know what they are doing to try play piercing on someone too trusting and result in a bad play experience or worse.

Play piercing is one of my favorite play activities. While there is a great deal of medical literature and accepted medical practices devoted to similar practices such as phlebotomy, play piercing is an art and not a science. There aren’t lots of controlled studies dedicated to following how different piercing techniques affect the body, how piercing bottoms react to such things. Nor is there a central agency to receive trouble reports when play piercing goes awry.

Though there is little doubt that experience is imminently valuable about learning how to do something like play piercing, all of that experience is anecdotal. Just because I stuck a needle in the Nether Region A on subs x, y, and z and nothing bad happened to them, it’s a big stretch to say that sticking a needle in Nether Region A is “safe.” For one thing, I don’t think that play piercing is safe.

It’s my considered opinion that if you want to enjoy BDSM but only when it’s safe, you’ve got the wrong sexual hobby. Most everything BDSM doesn’t meet any reasonable definition of “safe” either physically or emotionally. That’s okay – just because something isn’t safe doesn’t mean one has to be reckless and exercising caution isn’t a bad thing.

If nothing else, Play Piercing will prove to be a good resource for those interested in play piercing, because it will stand as a handy reference for basic questions about the most common questions and techniques about play piercing. The book also suggests a few more advanced play piercing techniques and ideas that can expand the play of even the most experienced play piercing fan. The sections devoted to the joys of blood play are also of interest.

Still I can’t write about this book without mentioning a few minor things that bugged me as I read through the pages. One thing in particular was Addington’s use of the term “skinsuit” to describe the skin. I don’t know if it was intended to be clever, cute, or both, but it distracted from the text.

In another section where she was discussing consuming (drinking) blood, she attempts to come across as a blood epicurean and makes silly preposterous claims about how one’s diet affects the taste of their blood. She claims that people who eat fish often taste fishy, frequent fried food lovers taste like gravy, and so on. While I don’t know if Addington is trying to be sincere or exercising literary license with these claims, I am reminded of the folly of relying on anecdotal evidence to make claims of fact. It seems likely that one’s impression about the flavor of blood is based on their expectations than anything else.

At any rate, sometimes I imagine conducting a double blind study of the taste of blood and diet. A vision complete with lab workers in white coats holding clipboards handing small samples to volunteers and asking them to report their impressions of the taste. Sometimes, I imagine a crimson Pepsi Challenge where perverted volunteers like myself are surprised to find that they prefer the taste of Miss Eats McDonald’s Every Day. Then again, I’m a little strange.

While I wouldn’t say that reading this book will serve as a substitute for learning about play piercing by doing and observing, anyone interested in play piercing regardless of their level of experience will find this book a good investment of time and money.

I remember back in the 1980s there was a commercial for an instructional break dancing video. The break dancing fad was already on the wane by the time the video marketers decided to shamelessly capitalize on it, but that mattered little as the video’s target audience was clearly middle class parents, rarely the avant-garde of anything

The fashions and set design of the commercial clearly showed the influence of “street” culture. But these weren’t the frightening urban streets of Harlem’s slums; instead these were the cul-de-sacs of suburbia. What really resonates in my consciousness was the cheery announcer allaying the fears of parents everywhere with the promise that the video offered “the safe way to break.” You know the fun is over and mediocrity has set in when something is safe enough to sell to the middle-aged middle class.

Naturally, you may be wondering what that has to do with an introductory book on sadomasochism. On the surface, not much. But after reading SM 101: A Realistic Introduction, I couldn’t help but be reminded of how something seemingly relegated to our cultural fringes could be commodified into something “safe” and not so frightening that everyone can embrace it.

Doing so was not Wiseman’s stated objective. In the introduction, he states that his purpose in writing the book is to give readers as much education about S/M sex as one might expect from an introductory college course. He does a very good job of this, but something is missing. Or more to the point, there’s just too much of something.

After finishing and contemplating the work, I initially wondered if Wiseman didn’t have a safety fetish that borders on the pathological. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing in and of itself. Surely we all want to avoid injuring our lovers even as we do evil, sadistic things to them. Likewise no matter how outré someone’s fantasies are, no reasonable person wants their fantasy fulfillment to end with a maiming. It would surely be irresponsible, at best, to offer instruction on S/M and not take pains to make sure the advice didn’t includes lots of information about safety.

It should be hard to fault the book for including too much of an emphasis on safety, yet I can’t help but think there is a natural tension between that which is safe and that which is fun. That isn’t to say that safe and fun are mutually exclusive; while every person clearly has a threshold where being endangered can only be perceived as a terrifying fear, lots of people experience some amount of fear or awareness of danger as excitement or fun. Were that not the case there would be no lines at roller coasters or horror movies. Likewise, S/M should be fun. If it isn’t, what’s the point in doing it?

While debate about what exactly S/M is, and is not, will never reach unanimity, without doubt a large part of it involves exploring, both physically and psychologically, the darker places of our consciousness. If S/M is completely safe is it any fun? Is it still even S/M? I think the answer to both questions is clearly no.

That’s what troubles me about this book’s excessive emphasis on safety: I don’t think that its overemphasis was intended for someone interested in learning about S/M. Instead, I get the feeling that Wiseman obsessed about safety to allay the arguments of those who claim S/M is abuse. The trouble is, not only are critics of S/M unlikely to read this book in the first place, they are also unlikely to persuaded that S/M isn’t abuse no matter how safe and consensual it is.

Despite this criticism, this book is still a wonderful resource for someone interested in learning about S/M, and to be fair, much of the safety information (e.g. safe calls) is essential advice that one would be foolish to not observe. Wiseman writes in an affable conversation style that is clear and avoids the fictionalized interludes that drag down many books of this type. While some of the information about using the internet as a resource is out of date, given the way that the internet has changed since the last revision, this was inevitable and forgivable.

If Wiseman revises this book again (this is the second edition) and focuses on the novice S/M audience - instead of the vanilla audience he’ll never convince anyway - he will have written a book that will remain essential reading for S/M novices for generations to come. Even if Wiseman doesn’t revise the book, flaws and all, for those wanting to learn about S/M the book is worthwhile.

Before I had my sweaty little palms on the Porn Project’s inaugural issue, I happened upon the second issue.

I read a lot of zines.Typically, the first issue is the least polished. The writing lacks a tight focus and struggles to find a voice or tries to hard to be all things to all people. As a zine grows legs and finds a voice, its writing grows sharper and more focused making for much better reading.

From a visual perspective, a zine’s first issue often has a better and more interesting layout as the publisher, not knowing what he is doing breaks the established “rules” for graphic design and comes out with something that is breaks the visual mold.Sometimes that isn’t the case though and the visual quality rises along with the production values.

Knowing that, I waited until I had read the first issue of the Porn Project to delve into the second. While I wasn’t overwhelmed with issue one, I had hopes for this issue. Disappointingly, those hopes were misplaced.

Clocking in with the annoying rubber band binding and outrageous cover price of $5, I figured that the girls (those of you with a bent for political correctness or inclusiveness can substitute women, bitches, or womyn as suits your fancy.) would give me a much better product than the first issue had for the same greenbacks. For a zine titled “The Porn Project” saying that things were only going down would seem to connote a good thing. Too bad that isn’t the case here.Compared to the first issue, this thing went down like a like a $2 whore whose trick just gave her a shine new Benjamin.

Rather than becoming clearer or more focused, the writing here seems to ramble more and astonishingly got less sexy.Not only that, the illustrations went from nondescript to eyewatering.If this is what passes for interesting insightful erotica from a woman’s point of view, I’ll stick with good old fashioned smut.

If a third issue of the Porn Project comes out, I will likely buy it. But don’t worry about me suffering by reading it. I have a plan. Instead of torturing myself with what will likely be a terrible read, I will make my girl read it first and have her tell me if it is any good. If it turns out to be as awful as I imagine it could be, I can claim it was a really intense scene.If by some miracle she reports the Porn Project rights its sinking ship, I’ll give it yet one more chance.