What Happened to Sex on Television?

It left the building with Bradshaw and her gang.

Of course there's "The L Word," and we think that "Queer as Folk" is still on. But reality television has sucked all the chemistry out of good old fictional unrequited love. Where are the sparks of Sam and Diane, or Maddie and David, or Mulder and Scully? It's a sad day when one of the hottest clinches of the season is between James Gandolfini and Edie Falco in a pool (see: watching your mom and dad do it, politics section).

Small consolation are those ubiquitous ads for Viagra, Levitra, Cialis and rest of their E.D. ilk. The unmatched pinnacle of the genre features the football being thrown through the tire swing -- over and over and over again. And what about that spry oldster couple who lounge in side-by-side outdoor bathtubs. Who has two outdoor bathtubs? Who has one? Perhaps the worst is the ad in which a middle-aged husband's imagination is sparked by some storefront lingerie, two geeky blue devil horns sprout from his head, and dicks around the country go instantly limp.

Books

Books fared much better in 2004, what with Jenna Jameson's readable autobiography, "How to Make Love Like a Porn Star: A Cautionary Tale," and Traci Lord's "Underneath It All." From a very different end (get it?) of the performative universe came former ballerina Toni Bentley's "Surrender," an ode to anal sex and a description of how she found divinity in her lower intestinal tract.

Miscellaneous Things That Got Our Knickers in a Twist

The New York Times published its biannual article about how our wacky teenage offspring are using something called the I.M. to summon each other to backyards and rec rooms, where they then pleasure each other (sometimes orally!) but do not commit to lifelong romantic bonds. It's called Friends With Benefits.

Within two days, every adult in the continental United States completely forgot their 15-year-old selves, hit the panic button, removed the computers from their kids' rooms, and called friends to commiserate over deteriorating romantic, moral and sexual value systems. Somewhere, their post-60 parents smirked happily and ordered the grandkids a BlackBerry for Christmas. (Hey, nervous nellies, take a Xanax: A December study from the National Center for Health Statistics claims that the percentage of sexually active women 15-17 declined from 38 percent in 1995 to 30 percent in 2002.)

And just last week, the Times declared that the craze for online dating is on the wane. Apparently, meeting someone you really click with is hard to do, even with the help of computer technology.

No shit.

Blow Jobs and the Twilight of the Pedophiles

A major standout on the bleak landscape of 2004 celebrity scandal was the long-awaited release of "The Brown Bunny," Vincent Gallo's movie that people went to see mostly because it featured Gallo's former girlfriend Chloë Sevigny deep-throating his impressive, if oddly tapered, member.

Then there was pop moppet Britney Spears, who was photographed going down on her scungerific then-boyfriend, now (second) husband, Kevin Federline.

The only -- and I stress only -- good news about Britney's path in 2004 was that at least our national fetish with her was completely legal. At year's start, that was not the case for minors Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, or Lindsey Lohan, or her epic (though widely disputed) breasts. Now, we're free to ogle away. Happy 18th birthday, ladies!

Scandals

The rape charges filed against Kobe Bryant disappeared once we learned enough about his alleged victim (her name, that she had taken drugs and suffered depression in college, and that she had in fact had sex with other men besides Bryant) to know for sure that she was un-rape-able. An emotionally unstable young woman who has sex with multiple partners is, after all, penetration waiting to happen; it's just a matter of which professional athlete happens to walk by and fall helplessly into her gaping vagina first.

The good people at the Smoking Gun published a helpful transcript of Bryant's initial interview with police. In it, Bryant first denies having intercourse with the woman, then admits that yeah, maybe he did tell her to blow him, and then told her "to get up (inaudible) she didn't know what she was doing." Worried about losing "my wife ... and all my endorsements," Kobe then admits that he did do the woman from behind and asked her if he could come on her face, which is a lot like the first story he told, in which he didn't have sex with her.

The real highlight is when the cop points out these discrepancies, and that the alleged victim does seem to have bruising around her neck, and Bryant helpfully refers them to another extramarital girlfriend. "The strangling thing you have to go talk to this girl (inaudible) Michelle ... you know me and Michelle, that's what we, we do the same thing ... she'll tell you the same shit." The cops are understanding, assuring Bryant that they understand why he wanted the alleged victim, since she was an attractive young lady. Bryant's response? "She wasn't that attractive."

Sorry, girls, this prince is taken.

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