Noah Berlatsky

Illicit passions aren't less enjoyable because they're illicit. Quite the contrary.

Sex and bodies don't clarify gender; they confuse the issue.

These covers remind us of the lengthy, rich—but often obscured—history of female songwriters.

Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Edith Piaf: they're all still practically household names.

The surface text of the film is that you can't trust some guys. The (barely) subtext is that you can't trust any guys.

Female masturbation is sexy in part because it flirts with lesbianism. For male masturbation, it's a different story.

There's a good argument to be made that the earliest, and the best, rockabilly performers were women. Slicked-back, hiccuping, hopped up cool.

While Atwood's feminist dystopia remains our favorite nightmarish future, Marge Piercy's Woman On The Edge Of Time is far superior.

Their sexuality traps and destroys male innocence, as they grad hold, by the penis- the better to lead him to castration. Make no mistake that castration is greeted with fear, terror, and disgust—but also with glee. Women as super villains allow their characters to be super powerful; a force for evil is at least a force. In a media landscape where women are often rendered secondary, invisible, and passive, the femme fatale, in her icy violence, seizes female agency along with the phallus that she so efficiently cuts off.

Talking about race can get you into a lot of trouble . . . especially if you don't have a lot of class power or status.