Personal, Political, Perverted - Post Mortem

I spent one whole happy year at Carnal Nation, writing my weekly column, Love's Outer Limits. The sudden demise of that web magazine has left me reeling with shock and sorrow. I related strongly to its motto - "personal, political, perverted" - and consistently delivered columns that reflected this outlook. I wrote my 'lil heart out for CN, and loved every minute of it! One thing I loved is that there were other writers in there with me - including my oldest son, Asher Bauer, who wrote Transgression. This is his new blog Decadent Fop. I was proud to stand with all of them! As sex educators and sex writers, I felt we were a valiant bunch thumbing our noses at the absurdities and prejudices of this very strange epoch.

I loved having readers too, sometimes lots of them! The fact that they were out there, somewhere, was a great boon to me. I felt companionship, community, even though I didn't know most of them. And every now and then a colleague from the sex-positive community would shoot me some praise, and I'd be in heaven.

Does this sound like your classic lonely writer? It does, doesn't it? Well, I'm not ashamed - even as a sex columnist, I pretty much fit the stereotype.

So, I realize that before I can proceed with creating an individual forum and replicate my column on this blog, I have to "process" (as they say!) and let go.

All good things must come to an end, they say. But why must it always happen so soon? The life of Carnal Nation was brief but brilliant. I had hoped to be part of it for a long, long time. At this point, all I can do is take its motto to heart - "personal, political, perverted" and continue to deliver the message. Regularly.

But now I simply must mourn. To mark this one week anniversary (which feels like an eternity!) since I got the devastating news about Carnal Nation, I will simply write that I mourn its loss. Greatly. I would gladly write for someone else - and hope to do so in the near future - but there will never again be the same incedibly witty and perverse group of sex writers, editors and publishers gathered together "under one roof" as there were in Carnal Nation.

Next week, you'll get a full blown column again. But for this week, consider my column draped in black and weeping into its cups, a sobbing polyamorous widow missing everybody like hell.