[Editor’s note: I initially titled this post “Don’t click on that link” but that, in Twitter, looks like this is itself an actual bad post. Which it isn’t. The link I don’t want you to click on, is from Toronto Life, explained below.]
Lately, I’ve become even more concerned about the hyper-sexualized culture we live in. (I know, you thought it wasn’t possible. Andrea Mrozek gets more conservative than she already was! Amazing!) I did not watch the Superbowl, but the really not at all socially conservative Jon Kay of the National Post had a Facebook status update thanking the NFL for making the half-time show into a “parade of harlots.” And I believe those words were in CAPS for emphasis.
Meanwhile, over at Toronto Life, there’s some sort of profile of Anna Silk and the show Lost Girl:
Where Lost Girl sets itself apart is the sex, and not just the sheer quantity of it, though Silk fakes more onscreen copulation than any other TV actor not contractually bound to HBO. Rather, it’s the series’ overarching erotic ethos that makes it stand out, a general attitude toward sex that saturates every scene.
“Erotic ethos” and “sex saturating every scene.” I cry foul and continue to ask anyone who will listen to join the prude revolution. I don’t care what you call me: prude, repressed, etc. I’ve heard it all before. Truly.
So I won’t link to this article. But I will discuss the problems associated with it–which I seem to be meeting everywhere I go these days. Hello, pornified culture, how do you do? I wasn’t looking to meet you, but I did, anyway. Please go away.
by 
I saw the half-time show and Jonathan Kay is right. There is absolutely nothing talented about a show where Beyonce and her co-horts jut their body parts all over the place provocatively. I recall one award show where Beyonce was embraced by her mother after winning some award, she was half naked with her skimpy outfit and I couldn’t believe that a mother would be proud of that. Hello prude pride!
Oh dear, oh dear.
I am the ultimate prude. My friends think I’m an 80 year old from the turn of the 20th century. Our culture needs a shock!
Way to go, Megan! 🙂
I might add by now I’ve seen photos of the half-time show and “parade of harlots” sounds about right. Sigh.