Or at least, so I’m told.  I’ve never had sex with anyone even moderately right of center, but according to my sources—the Wes Right is indeed getting it on.   Well, “Good for them!” to quote my mom’s once stated point of view on a healthy sex life.

Despite what The Nation and Campus Progress have to say, the issue of sex in college is relevant to student body members of every persuasion—left, right, moderate, extroverted, abstinent, and oblivious.  It’s edifying and it’s interesting and above all, it’s reality.

So, we’re having sex.  Some of us more than others, some of us to better satisfaction than others. The diverse sexual identities of Wesleyan students means sex isn’t the same act for everyone, but if you say it’s “sex,” it’s sex. And it’s all over this campus—Sex Party, Wes Burlesque, Porn and Milkshakes, sex toy workshops, condoms in bathrooms and provocative posters all over campus (‘Hilary Clinton’s Hidden Vagenda,’ anyone?). But, in fact, while “Wes sex” is assertive, it’s so only in the theoretical sense. No one actually is publicly talking about sex—the act, the foreplay, the aftermath.  Be it gender-bender sex, crazy hookup sex, long-term relationship sex, new-to-the-game sex—no one is talking at all.

My bad. My bad in a serious way.  I’ve been writing this column for half a semester now and I really haven’t mentioned anything about the physicality of sex. If you’ve read my column you’d get the impression that we’re just dating. We’re just expressing our sexual selves, whatever that means. However inadvertently, I’ve done it—I’ve fallen prey to the Wesleyan hypocrisy of being sexually open but very closed doors about sex on this campus.

But I can’t “skirt the issue” any longer.  I’m going to talk about sex—bodies: what works, what doesn’t; words: what’s sexy, what’s not; fetishes: how to explore, what to do when it’s not your deal; girl on girl, boy on boy, girl on boy and everything in between and outside of those realms.

The thing is, I’m not sure exactly how it’s going to work. I have topics I think are interesting and sure, friends of mine are fueling my ideas all the time. But I can’t depend on the sexplorations of a few to sustain this forum for the many.

I’ll be honest: I’m scared of you. I’m even scared that if I write about sex, that no one will want to date, and perhaps subsequently, have sex with me.  Moreover, I’m scared you’re going to dislike my reportage or find me too hetero-normative or too little or too much of a feminist, or too forthright and opinionated with views that aren’t your own.

Here I’ll take the position that Wesleyan right wingers often have—you may not like what I say, and you may not agree with it, but don’t dismiss it off the bat—please, join the discourse.

Look to your right and you will see that Blargus has debuted an anonymous way to send me questions, comments, and suggested topics.  As I shift through any “junk mail” that might fill the inbox, I’m going to be looking to hear about what the Blargus readership wants to know.

I’ll do my best to stay on task, delivering you insights on sex at Wesleyan. Much like sitting on Foss Hill holding hands with a new beau, I’m coming out to the public about actual sex at Wesleyan. I’m going under the proverbial sheets of Wes, even under my sheets at Wes, and with the usual social commentary I’ve been serving up.  Stick around,  I’m about to melt the chill that just hit this campus—with your help of course. So, be bold. Ask a question. Make a move. Just don’t pretend like sex isn’t happening—it is.  And please, Wes kids, don’t be shy readers. That’s not the cardinal way.