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Annie Sprinkle swims forward | page 1, 2
The segment ends with a film clip of Sprinkle being dragged and shoved
and slapped by four naked men. She's crying and screaming, and by
this point, you know she's not that good an actress. MC Sprinkle
confirms that "this scene got a little out of hand. ... After
that, I never had another rape fantasy again." The on-screen brutality and sad voice-over set up "Herstory's" next
stage: Sprinkle's attempt to make porn she liked. In 1982, after
starring in 100 movies written and directed by men, Sprinkle wrote,
directed and starred in "Deep Inside Annie Sprinkle." This was
several years before she went to college and discovered feminism in a
women's studies class, but the movie subverts porn's dehumanization
by putting Sprinkle's pleasure front and center.
Virginia Vitzthum Virginia Vitzthum's column appears every other Tuesday in the Urge edition of Health & Body + Archives
In "Deep Inside," Sprinkle continually addresses the camera, inviting the viewer along on her adventures like a D-cup Mr. Rogers. She leads us to a porn theater showing Annie Sprinkle movies, stands by a poster of herself and tells us that watching her own movies "gets me so hot that I just start doin' all the guys around me." Then 1982 Sprinkle goes into the theater and begins sucking and fucking and getting eaten out by her delighted neighbors. She's the aggressor, and she's the celebrity ("Why, you're Annie Sprinkle," cries a white-haired gentleman as she pulls his fingers into her mouth). At the end of the film, she faces the camera and says, "I've had a wonderful time with you today. I love you. I still feel kind of horny, so I hope we run into each other very soon." I ask if she worried about issuing such an invitation to every nut watching her movie. "I think lunatics probably respect me more because I'm a porn star," she replies. "I came across this big old ex-con on a dark New York street once and I felt scared until he said, 'Oh my God, you're Annie Sprinkle. I had your picture up in my cell.' I felt safer then. People think porn fans are antisocial weirdos, but they're mostly all nice and sweet and innocent, and they wouldn't hurt a fly." Though she became a lesbian about 10 years ago, Sprinkle retains her regard for her johns, co-stars, fans and ex-lovers of every gender. (She's been romantically involved with several post-op transsexuals.) Last year, all that affection flowed back to her after the houseboat she lived on burned down while she was out touring. Everything she owned burned, and both of her 15-year-old cats were killed. She's had no permanent address since the fire, but a friend sent out a mass e-mail telling of Sprinkle's plight, which unleashed a flood of letters, e-mails, money and gifts from friends and strangers. In a group letter sent a few months ago, Sprinkle reported that "people from the art and theater worlds, the porn, SM, tantra and sex worker worlds were all incredibly generous. ... A big, soft, psychic pillow was created for me to fall back on. The pain of loss was washed away, and my heart burst open." A new lover also materialized from the ashes. A mysterious woman (who, it turns out, was born a man) pulled up in a pink speedboat as Sprinkle was sifting through the wreckage of the fire. This knight in silicone armor asked Sprinkle if she could help, and they've been together ever since. The group letter ends on an upbeat note, with the two of them "making mermaid-love" on an island and Sprinkle admitting that she's adrift in life, "doggy paddling around in an enormous ocean of possibilities." Sprinkle has several sex-related gigs now, yet I wonder if her mermaid identification signals a move away from sex. Though they're alluring creatures, how would you get busy with them? They're as smooth as Barbie below the waist and don't even have legs to spread. Sprinkle bristles at my denaturing her beloved archetype. "The mermaid's whole body is sexual," she says with irritation. "She's undulating and breathing and holding her breath and feeling the water all over her. Look, I go out with transsexual people and I know there's a lot more to sex than genitals." OK, OK, I'm convinced. If anyone can illuminate the mysteries of
third millennium, post-menopausal, transgender, genital-transcending,
underwater sex, it's Annie Sprinkle.
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