A new study by the University of Kansas asked 281 college men and women about their sexual histories. They found that about a quarter of young men and a half of the women they surveyed had acted out an orgasm. The biggest reason? Wanting to end sex without hurting the other person’s feelings.

At least this younger generation is sexually magnanimous. But reflecting on this study, Tracy Clark-Flory points out how absurd our culture has become:

It’s funny to think that sometimes it ends up that the girl fakes it just so the guy can fake it. What a perfect representation of performative sex. Both partners are so strictly adhering to an expected script that they become outside observers to their own sexual encounter. Or, sometimes, it’s less an issue of performance and more an attempt to avoid one’s own, or one’s partner’s, embarrassment. Let’s remember, the survey focused on college-age dudes and dames, as most surveys do. If faking it to some degree isn’t a defining trait of youthful sex lives, then I don’t know what is.

The Strause’ Brothers new film Skyline is out in theaters today, but I was already pretty trepidacious, seeing as how Rogue Pictures wasn’t screening it for critics. I was hoping the film would be so-bad-it’s-good, but unfortunately, it fell into the so-bad-it’s-mind-numbingly-boring category. While I didn’t enjoy it very much, I was impressed by about 10 minutes worth of the visual effects in the 90-minute film. And if the budget really is around $1 million, then it really is an achievement on the scale of District 9, just without the thrills, inventiveness, script, or great acting in that film. 

I think Devin Faraci’s review is pretty spot on:

Skyline is impressive if unimaginative, and there are lots and lots of bright daylight scenes of giant monsters and fighter planes and alien space craft and weird alien squid beasts. They look great, and I would totally hire Hydraulx to do my FX work if I had FX worked that needed doing.

But the rest of it. Oh, the rest of it! It’s terrible. Actually, many of the FX scenes are terrible as well – the FX looks great, but everything happening on screen around the FX is bone headed or moronic or poorly shot. And that’s pretty much the film in a nutshell: bone headed, moronic and poorly shot. And terribly acted as well, just for good measure. There’s not a single believable moment in Skyline, and I don’t mean that I couldn’t believe in an alien invasion. I mean that not one human being in the film comes across like a human being of any sort, that none of the dialog rings true or is delivered well and that some of the actors can’t even exit an airplane convincingly.

Tamar Lewin has a thorough exposé on Kaplan’s deplorable business practices. Kaplan has discovered that test prep isn’t where the money is at these days; instead, it’s acquired small colleges and has started using them to screw people out of money:

Carlos Urquilla-Diaz, a former Kaplan instructor and administrator who is one of the Miami whistle-blowers, recalled a PowerPoint presentation showing African-American women who were raising two children by themselves as the company’s primary target. Such women, Mr. Urquilla-Diaz said, were considered most likely to drop out before completing the program, leaving Kaplan with the aid money and no need to provide more services.“The idea was, we’ll take anybody, and I mean anybody,” he said.

I was browsing Gizmodo the other day and I came upon Joel Johnson‘s withering rant about stupid internet commenters. The whole thing is worth reading in its entirety, and it’s basically the exact same philosophy I subscribe to for /Film: “Despite what you may have heard, the internet website you read does not belong to you. You should treat it like a person’s living room and you are a guest.” (hat-tip to CHUD for that last part). The average netizen does not seem to grasp this fundamental rule of etiquette.

While reading Joel’s article, one passage caught my eye:

So I was raped when I was a kid by a parent and I wrote about it. In case you’re wondering: It fucking sucked, but I’m much better, thank you. But when I got into a scuffle with some commenters last week they decided to take something I’d written about that experience and use it to suggest to Brian Lam that I have anger issues. They were concerned for me, you see. They suggested therapy for my unresolved issues. I do have anger issues, you dumb, cruel,, entitled, tunneled vision shit eaters. My anger issues are with you, because you are so foul, so unable to use the internet as a thoroughfare for human compassion or—Christ—even just a civil conversation. It’s so far beyond your comprehension that perhaps you are rude or simply wrong that you’d dredge up something that has absolutely no bearing on—wait for it—arguments about gadgets.

It’s reprehensible that people would use Joel’s past of sexual abuse against him on a blog about consumer electronics, but unfortunately, it’s unsurprising. Nonetheless, I was impressed with Joel’s forthcoming nature. Anytime someone speaks about a history of sexual abuse and puts it out there for the world to see, it is an undeniable act of courage.

I sought out Joel’s original post found it on his blog. It took my breath away with its frank account of abuse, and the panoply of emotions that result from it. Joel’s prose feels effortless and has a momentum to it that makes it impossible to stop reading.

I was particularly troubled by the ways in which religion is used as a weapon of the abuser. Truly a horrifying perversion of Christianity.

Once Glen came barging into my room, furious. “You’re messing with me,” he said. I had no idea what he was talking about. “You’re leaving cum in the toilet for me to find. Why are you messing with me? This is hard enough for me without you trying to make it worse.” In fact, I’d stopped masturbating for weeks at a time, trying to keep any thoughts of women out of my mind entirely, as we were taught over and again by pastors that even thinking about sex was as bad as actually having it. And masturbating? It might be okay, I once heard a pastor opine, if one could do it without thinking any sexual thoughts. But we were told: why take the risk? Instead I would hold out for as long as I could until, usually in the shower, I’d be unable to stop myself. Before the orgasm had even left my body I would begin to pray: I’m sorry, Jesus. I’m so sorry. This is the last time. Never again.

It is one of the most powerful things I’ve read this week. Hell, this month. Bravo to Joel for putting it out there and for giving voice to those who have no one to speak for them. Read the whole thing here.

It’s been over a month, but I finally got around to watching the 20/20 documentary for Catfish. I thought the film was really powerful and an effective look at the implications of inter-personal relationships in an online age (more thoughts here). The 20/20 episode basically gives away the entire plot of the film, a lot of whose value is predicated on the minute discoveries that one encounters while going through the protagonist’s journey.

I’m not sure what the circumstances were behind the creation of this episode. Did the 20/20 people pitch the filmmakers? Or vice versa? Whatever the case, the filmmakers undoubtedly agreed in order to give much-needed publicity to their small, low-budget, limited release movie. But at what cost does this publicity come? By giving away all the story beats in a 44-minute 20/20 episode, complete with ultra-generic newsdoc voiceover narration, aren’t you cutting off your nose to spite your face? Aren’t you obviating the need to see the movie? Perhaps, but maybe some people will see it and think, “Hey, I should buy a ticket for that!” I doubt it will be that many, though.

Spoilers for Catfish follow:

The 20/20 documentary does have some value in that it features interviews with Angela, as well as the “Real” Megan Faccio. These offer insights into the post-Catfish reaction of these characters, insights that the film obviously can’t give.

In addition, the entire 20/20 episode makes for an interesting comparison. If you watch both the movie and this episode, you’re basically seeing the same story told in two different ways. Which one is more effective, and why? (My vote is definitely for Catfish).

From Macleans comes the heartwarming story of two conjoined twins who are craniopagus, meaning they share a skull. They might also share thoughts:

 Adding to the conundrum, of course, are their linked brains, and the mysterious hints of what passes between them. The family regularly sees evidence of it. The way their heads are joined, they have markedly different fields of view. One child will look at a toy or a cup. The other can reach across and grab it, even though her own eyes couldn’t possibly see its location. “They share thoughts, too,” says Louise. “Nobody will be saying anything,” adds Simms, “and Tati will just pipe up and say, ‘Stop that!’ And she’ll smack her sister.” While their verbal development is delayed, it continues to get better. Their sentences are two or three words at most so far, and their enunciation is at first difficult to understand. Both the family, and researchers, anxiously await the children’s explanation for what they are experiencing.

In addition to the fascinating philosophical questions this brings up (e.g. Are they technically two people? Or should they count as one?), I’m heartened by how the family has come together to help give these twins a fruitful existence. In a profession (Education) where you constantly see children’s futures totally discarded because their parents can’t be bothered to care, it’s nice sometimes to see the total opposite.