I don’t care if you’re doing it “for fiscal reasons.” I don’t care if you’re stuck on the drone strikes thing (legitimate concern, I gotcha). I don’t care if you think that Obamacare will act as a sexy magnetic beacon for all of China’s doctors to come over and steal our jobs. If you are voting Republican in the next presidential election, any and all sexy times are over.
My instinct is to feel a little bad about this declaration. I don’t like blanket statements, and I certainly don’t normally believe in “dealbreakers.” It’s becoming increasingly hard for me as the election grows closer, though, not to automatically hear, “I’m voting for Mitt Romney,” as, “My face will never get anywhere near your pussy, ever, the end," when talking to a cute boy at the bar.
It’s not like I can’t entertain the possibility of disagreement in the bedroom. Some of my very favorite sex partners have held entirely different life philosophies to my own. Some of them, dare I say it, are even fairly politically conservative. One of my fondest memories of my Best Dude Friend is of a random argument we had about Obamacare that ended in the following exchange:
Him: “I want to be a doctor, Kate! Do you want me to never be able to pay back my student loans? I'm doing that to help people!”
Me: “Well, I’m going to be a writer! You know I take medication poorly! Do you want me dead on my kitchen floor? DO YOU?”
We eventually agreed to disagree. Though I’m pretty sure I swayed him just a little.
I’m totally willing to own up to the fact that I can be kind of a jackass when it comes to politics. Not because I’m not up for considering other people’s points of view, but because I get so angry about certain things that my brain gets all roary and I just have to leave the room (or, occasionally, slowly moving vehicle) before someone gets punched in the jaw.
We can talk about fracking in a calm, rational manner until the methane cows come home, for example, but the second you use “illegal” to describe someone, I’m going to attempt to climb into my backpack and slowly die of suffocation and rage. I once tried to throw a microwave at my best friend in high school because I was residually mad at her for saying something detrimental about gay marriage (she’s since come around). Even now, that friend and I have to preface everything political we say with about 10 minutes of qualifiers, lest one of us try to choke the other with a Romney/Ryan 2012 bumper sticker.
I still love her deeply and believe that she’d pretty much do anything for me, just like I’d do anything for her, but she voted for Romney at City Hall last weekend and therefore we are doomed to never consummate our Facebook marriage.
That visceral, crackling anger at key issues, particularly regarding reproductive rights, is a large part of my inability to imagine mutually satisfying orgasms with people voting for Mitt Romney. I’m not like Mandy, after all, able to rationalize the active oppression of women into a hot-ass masturbation fantasy about Paul Ryan.
It’s the kind of rage that makes me tingly all over, so I guess I could see it being hot on some level. The thrill of a political disagreement coupled with naked Ayn Rand book slaps, while not something I could hitch my orgasm-cart behind, definitely has an appeal.
And this isn’t a catchall about all Republicans ever. People change, parties change –- maybe in 20 years, we’ll have all pulled an Abraham Lincoln and upended the entire attitudes of our parties.
But in this current political climate, where one of the Republican candidates believes that abortion should be illegal even in cases of rape and the other keeps fucking throwing his weight behind DOMA for some reason, I can’t even really make out with someone who has basically admitted, to me, that they don’t think I’m worth having autonomy over my body or my heart-brain.
I tend to think of sex as a kind of positive reinforcement of behavior, particularly when it comes on the tail end of, say, a small-talk conversation wherein one’s partner revealed that they don’t believe in climate change. On some level, I fear that immediately following a talk like that with sex, even if it’s clearly unrelated, is subconsciously conveying approval of that person’s beliefs.
I think that’s the difference for me between close, loving friendship with Republicans and hypothetical sex with them. Being physically intimate with someone implies a kind of trust in them -- you’re offering them conditional, consensual access to your body, and they’re taking it. Republican politicians are already trying to take that access away, so I automatically assume that Republican supporters are symbolically doing the same.
Maybe this makes me immature or inflexible. I’ve always kind of admired couples who fall back on that “We disagree because we love!” bickering shtick, and I know that part of committing to a monogamous relationship means accepting the other person’s dumb-ass decisions. But since apparently the majority of people are unwilling to date someone in the opposite party, I guess I’m not the only one who can’t hear anything but a fuzzy chant of “Legitimate rape” every time a would-be sex partner reveals they’re conservative.
I get that there are nuances, obviously. I wouldn’t be friends with anyone who was genuinely against same-sex marriage or abortion in cases of rape, and like I said, I have many people in my life who are planning on voting for Romney. I'm not gonna salt and burn the earth under their feet (probably).
But like many of the men and women quoted in this Wall Street Journal article about not dating outside your party, I’ve stuck on a few issues that I’ve made into a symbol of most of what I am as a person: basically, being a big old gay understanding lady who likes helping strangers (domestic and otherwise) and eats a lot of vegan food. And if you vote for a platform that stands against me on that issue, I’m gonna guess that you don’t want any part of that pants-action.
Plus, I kind of have a theory that Republicans can’t be all that good in bed. They’d be all Earnest Thrusting or Inconsiderate Dom. If you’ve fucked a true-red Republican, please confirm or deny my suspicions about their techniques in the comments.
Kate is becoming frantic about the election and her inevitable resulting sex-desert on Twitter at @katchatters.