Sex in the time of coronavirus in China and the U.S.
Things are grim on the ground but the tradition lives on in pictures.
The U.S. sexual surveillance state horror.
After long experience in East and Southeast Asia, the author turns his attention to the massage scene in his home country.
Wending my way through Mekong River territory to sample some of the world’s most varied massage offerings.
What happens when wayward algorithms are allowed to censor content on social media.
Only a perverted and schizophrenic society dangles sexual temptations to ever-younger people and punishes them brutally.
A civilized approach to men’s obsession with the breasts.
What if the antagonistic aspects of the massage practice—the therapeutic and the erotic—were seen as inseparable?
There is no such thing as strictly nonsexual massage: massage is always already erotic.
Crucially, she has the “touch.” Love in her hands.
Burma’s burgeoning massage and café industries considered in tandem.
“When poets speak of death, they call it the place without breasts.”
I am drawn to the seedy establishments, poorly lit portals to the underworld, busy inside with silent activity, chess games of intimate squalor.
As obsessed with massage as Malays are, they delegate the business to the Chinese.