Come together.

By Pippo Lionni: “PRIMETIME FUCKME.”

And the word is?

by Bettina Rheims, from here and here.

Pidgin Tolstoy and articulate Henry James.

“The women in my life have all been librarians, English teachers, or booksellers. If they couldn’t speak pidgin Tolstoy, articulate Henry James, or give me directions to Usher and Ox, it was no go. I have always longed for education, and pillow talk’s the best.”

-Ray Bradbury in his foreword to A Passion for Books (1999) by Harold Rabinowitz and Rob Kaplan.

The city that never sleeps.

Sleep is overrated, if you ask me. Sleep when you’re dead.

This shining pool.

How Lovely Wetness Makes The Flesh

by Tennessee Williams

How lovely wetness makes the flesh

our bodies will declare

when we step from this shining pool

into the shining air

How lovely passion makes the lips

our kiss will testify

when we step from this brilliant earth

into the brilliant sky

from the June 2009 issue of Harper’s, which adds that the poem “was written on the stationery  ofthe Hotel Woodstock, the poem dates from 1939, when Williams visited New York City to attend the World’s Fair.

It’s about nothing.

We’ve written about the lovely Ashlynn Brooke here before but I’m sad to have just discovered that she’s a staple in the ridiculous porn parodies that’ve been out there. I guess I’m not really against the idea of pornographic parodies of normal creative properties, but they’re not even remotely funny, it seems. The latest one she’s in is literally just called Seinfeld – An XXX Parody.

A porno about nothing? Yeah, I hope so, but I’m not expecting any deepness from this other than, well, how deep the cocks go? Ehhh. But the Seinfeld parody joins a long roster of others, sending up The Office, 30 Rock, and even mediocre fare such as Scrubs.

Ashlynn Brooke as the Jane Krakowski character from 30 Rock in the porn parody.

And you have to admit that the porn parody version of The Office looks interesting, right? And talk about an all star cast.

Oh, Ashlynn Brooke, I want to tell you that you’re so much better than appearing in shit like this, but truth be told, if presented with the opportunity, I’d watch this shit. Fuck yeah, I’d watch it.

Fornication under the consent of the King.

Cross posted here.

About two years ago a poll was conducted by psychologists Cindy Meston and David Buss from the University of Texas to see all of the reasons why people have sex. This is a short sampling of the 237 compiled reasons from their list, parts of which have been printed before in Harper’s and elsewhere.

I was bored.

I was married, and you’re supposed to.

It became a habit.

It was the only way my partner would spend time with me.

I wanted to stop my partner’s nagging.

I was afraid my partner would have an affair if I didn’t.

I wanted to have more sex than my friends.

Someone dared me.

I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

I wanted to defy my parents.

I was slumming.

I needed another notch on my belt.

It was an initiation rite.

The person was famous.

The person was a good dancer.

The person had beautiful eyes.

The person had a great sense of humor.

The person was intelligent.

The person bought me an expensive dinner.

I wanted a job.

Someone offered me money.

I’m addicted to sex.

My hormones were out of control.

I was tired of being a virgin.

I wanted to feel closer to God.

I wanted to boost my self-esteem.

I was trying to reaffirm my sexual orientation.

It’s considered taboo.

I wanted to get rid of aggression.

I was physically forced.

I was verbally coerced.

I was seduced.

I wanted to humiliate the person.

I wanted to give someone a sexually transmitted disease.

I was feeling lonely.

I wanted the person to love me.

I thought it would help me trap a new partner.

I was ovulating.

I wanted to get rid of a headache.

I thought it would help me fall asleep.

I wanted to keep warm.

I wanted to burn calories.

I wanted to relieve menstrual cramps.

It’s my genetic imperative.

I was curious about my sexual abilities.

The person smelled nice.

I realized I was in love.

I wanted to change the topic of conversation.

Hocus Pocus.

So, I’m going to reach into my top hat here and pull out this rabbit out for you…

That’s the video for the new Ciara single, “Love Sex Magic,” which is three of my favorite things. It features Justin Timberlake because, whether we like it or not, that guy is out there. Just like AIDS, man.

For like the first time in a year or so, I turned on VH1 the other morning, and… Wow, what a graveyard. Is this where mediocre music goes to die? Mainstream? The only diamond in the rough was this video, which I instantly thought was ridiculously sexy. The song isn’t great, but it’s good, I like it, and it works. As the Boston Herald put it: “Not quite magic, but it grows on you.”

That it does.

And granted, I know I’m screaming at the top of my lungs in a room full of deaf or uninterested people here, but Justin Timberlake, WTF? Is his presence necessary here? Especially considering this is a Ciara video and for the most part, she’s forced to just basically be the pretty girl with the lovely voice who gets the sing the hook on her own track.

Also, the other thing that gets me, is that Timberlake looks so incredibly disinterested in this video. This beautiful woman, a talented singer and dancer, is grinding all over him and except for a few moments here and there, he looks like he’s waiting to clock out and pick up his check from the record label. Was Jessica Biel standing just off set, watching with a mean scowl on her face? It’s horrible because it kind of undersells the video and makes Ciara look like she’s trying to hard to win over, what? This guy? Please.

I shit you not, the Wikipedia caption for the above photo is: Ciara as a sexy tigress in a cage in the music video.

But I guess this also fits into the bit more than slightly misogynistic trend in music videos where the loser guy just kind of sits there while the hot girls do all the hard work and sweating. And Ciara is certainly doing that here. And then some.

And Timberlake just looks like he’s thinking about playing with his magic wand.

The Whole Chicken.

“For women the best aphrodisiacs are words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below there is wasting his time.”

and

“Erotica is using a feather, pornography is using the whole chicken.”

-Isabel Allende.

So true, Isabel, so true. Here at Carnal Knowledge, I think we like to think of ourselves as the whole chicken, but with some damn fine feathers. Or so we hope…

i’m in the mood for love.

Today I wanted to talk a little about angles and how sometimes, something is perfect depending on how you see it.

From 2007′s Lust, Caution.

The genesis for that was going to be (and is now) me talking about how Ang Lee’s gorgeous and seductive film, Lust, Caution. It’s a beautifully erotic film, and stars Tony Leung, the man who is probably the lead actor in every single Chinese adult film.

Not adult as in porno (despite the evidence to the contrary in these images from Lust, Caution), but adult as in mature and erotic films for adults. Watch a film starring Tony Leung and you’ll see what I mean. And not just that, but you’ll see one of the most still, most restrained and classy actors in cinema anywhere in the world.

Tony Leung and Wei Tang in Lust, Caution.

This is how he describes himself: “I am very restrained, very suppressed, very quiet. I don’t like to talk too much because I don’t know what to do in front of an audience. Actually, I don’t know how to communicate with others because of my background and I am scared.” It’s not surprising to hear him say that since his screen presence is a disarming sense of dangerous confidence mixed with wounded masculinity.

From Wong Kar-Wai’s 2046.

Also, he – Tony Leung Chiu-Wai - apparently is known by the nickname of “Little Tony,” to distinguish himself from “Big Tony,” who is Tony Leung Ka-Fai. For some reason, I always assumed it was Chiu-Wai in The Lover, but it was Ka-Fai.

“Every once in a while a train leaves to a place where lost memories are remembered. But no one has ever returned from 2046.”

“…except me.”

If you haven’t seen Wong Kar-Wai’s In The Mood For Love yet, which is one of the most agonizingly beautiful love stories ever, then I suggest you put down your internet and go find yourself a viewing of it immediately. There is no nudity in the film, no sex scenes, and yet it’s so erotic that you’ll ache from longing. And maybe that longing will be satisfied by it’s sequel (of sorts), 2046.

Wong Kar-Wai is a brilliant director and thanks to his cinematographer, Christopher Doyle, you can literally take any scene from either of those (or any of his films, honestly) and just pluck them right off the screen and hang them on your wall.

Tomorrow or the next day, we’ll talk about the angles (you’ll see what I mean). But tonight is me suggesting that you find yourself In The Mood For Love as soon as possible. Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung in that film are real, beautiful cinema at it’s finest. Go see what I mean.