Hello readers, this is SEX, and hopefully will appear regularly in future DFP issues. If not, then forgive me; I’m probably just not getting any ass at the moment and am feeling bitter about it. For the first appearance of SEX, the column, I’d like to talk about the Sexperts. Many of us have experienced something that has to do with the Sexperts, whether it was a special freshmen floor meeting about sex, the Sex Fair, or the “Consensual sex is hot” summer event.

The Sexperts are great, but don’t listen to a word they say.

The last time I went to a Sexperts meeting, my Freshman fall, I was gently reminded that giving a blow job was not actually about blowing anything. Then we got to pass around some anal beads and other toys. Because of you, S’perts, I got to hold anal beads, something that I might not have done in real life. For that I thank you.
It just seemed quite a big jump to make, from pointers for the uninitiated blower all the way to anal beads. Institutionalizing sex can make a one-shop stop for all things sexually-oriented, but it is overlooking one key sex point:

“[Sex] is many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting [sex] is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that is which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.” (The Half-Blood Prince, 153)

What does this mean? It means that, like Harry Potter, the only way you are going to survive sex is to have a group of loyal friends by your side, not an institution. After all, Dartmouth is Hogwarts (and Disneyland, but I’ll deal with that in a different issue.)

Let’s make a hypothetical situation. I want to start masturbating, but I’m confused and scared as to what I might find down there and what exactly I’m supposed to do. I contact the Sexperts, who then refer me to a Sexperts mentor. This mentor proceeds to tell me some general information like: make sure you are relaxed, in a comfortable place, maybe get some lube and a mirror, just go slowly and gently, caress your clit with two fingers, etc. I then ask my friend for some masturbation advice. She goes into graphic detail, waxes poetic about her powerful personal orgasm just last night, then lends me her (thoroughly sanitized) bullet. Sexperts do not offer a lending library of sex toys. Friend-1, Sexperts-0.

Since Sexperts have had 24 hours of training in general sexual knowledge, including “pleasure-based sexuality,” then they know about sex… right? They officially have, what I like to call “Google-based knowledge”. As in, JFGI, “just fucking Google it.” The third Google hit on “female masturbation techniques” is clitical.com, which I found extremely helpful. It also features erotic stories to get you in the mood, a service that Sexperts does not offer. So maybe you’re wondering about BDSM and butt plugs. I would recommend urbandictionary.com. Internet-1, Sexperts-0.

Don’t get me wrong, I happen to be sitting next to a Sexpert right now, and he knows a lot about sex. I would never demean his vast knowledge by saying that Google is better than him. My point is that sex institutions will never be able to tell you about sex in all of its finest subtleties. If you’d like to know whether olive oil can be used as lube in conjunction with a latex condom (no, it can’t), and you are too lazy to JFGI, then Sexperts will provide you with the correct answer. But if you are having a little difficulty having sex with your girl due to your massive penis and her small cervix, or you’re curious and want to know more about the intricacies of gay sex, then you shouldn’t listen to a word Sexperts has to say. If you want to hold some sex toys and practice putting a condom on a dildo, then Sexperts has some great programming for that. But if you need advice on how to introduce the subject of sex toys to your boy toy, don’t listen to a word they say.

So, reader, next time you’re in Collis and notice the subtle smell of strawberry lube emanating from Commonground and pass straight by the condom fairy inviting you in, don’t feel bad. You’re not missing anything. Just go home, fuck around on Google, and have some pillow talk with your roommate. Trust me.