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What is SexIs?

In the annals of life, love, and sex, there is one burning question on the lips, loins, and limbic receptors of all homo sapiens: Is my sex life normal?

Men—who have sex with women, with each other, with transgendered people, with blow-up dolls, with Realdolls, with Tenga-brand onacups, with left hands and right hands, with mottled old pillows, with glory holes and holes of ill repute; and even with the occasional apple pie (easy on the cinnamon)—are all sure that they aren’t having enough sex, or the right kind of sex, or even the wrong kind. And that’s not even taking into account the question which sucks at the heart of every man like a newly-created black hole: Is my junk big enough?

And women …well, they aren’t much better off. Just substitute “Rabbit’ for “onacup,” “dildo” for “mottled old pillows,” and “breasts/labia/bottoms” for “junk.”

So, just what is normal for sex in this century and how do your own exploits measure up? Well, that’s kind of why we’re here. Bear in mind, we’re not Masters & Johnson (though between the staff, we all have a distinct appreciation for both masters and johnsons…some of us more so than others), so don’t take this too seriously—even though we know that 48 percent of you will feel depressed after you see how you rank, and 12 percent of you will be ashamed that you’re so much more active than everyone else—and that’s not counting the 22 percent of you who will stop reading this halfway through to go rub one out (at least according to the statistician who told us that 94 percent of all data can be manipulated). To understand what is “normal” one must first negotiate the landscape.

In the 21st century, the Internet serves as an echo chamber for sex; the problem is that, after the first few echoes, what one is often left with is wild opinion, a lack of depth, and a vagueness of thought and soul. The Web also offers, in the drollest possible sense, a superfluity of intercourse. It’s a downward tracking snowball of quantity and “right now kthxbye.” We’re living in a world of faster-is-better, more-more-more, give-it-to-me-now that is inherently at odds with what good sex is really about: knowing our bodies and our brains, and feeding them tidbits of delicious morsels that satisfy our need for more—without feeling hungry an hour later. The sheer amount of information, however, is mind-boggling. Bombarded as we are by enough sexual stimuli on a daily basis to level Detroit—or maybe Pittsburgh—how can one chart an un-boggled course?

Well, if you are us, you launch an Internet sex magazine. (No, really.) But rather than trying to shock with higher voltage, screech with louder voices and sink to the lowest common denominator, you bolster its contents with the work of savvy writers who take sex positive to a whole new level, who don’t think that plausible sex education stops with the phrase: “…and that’s how babies are made.” Writers who believe that sex is as much about society, fashion, politics, religion and communication as it is about inserting the tab of your choice into the slot of your desire; writers who aren’t going to buy into the latest fad, who will deconstruct the old advice—and call foul whenever necessary.

So, what is normal? There’s no such animal.

So, to cadge Yeats, for those of you vexed by the prospect of “what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards the Internet to be born?” Relax. Unboggle. Free your mind, and the body will follow. Our mission: not only to tell you the story, but lay it out in front of you like sushi on a sexy, cling wrap-clad woman for your sensory enjoyment—or for the more carnivorous, share a dripping bite of their big, fat, juicy, meaty, cheeseburger. (And yes, you can haz fries with that.)