Just back to the Eternal Thrash for a second (i.e. "sex-positive feminism" and its discontents), the thing that gets me, over and over again, is how much of a disconnect there is between the notion (shared by certain Manly Men and certain radfems alike, oddly enough) that Men Are Lustful Beasts who've created the patriarchy largely, apparently, because they just love fucking so much; and the reality as I see it. Namely: that in fact if anything the "speed seduction" guides, Andrew Dice Clay and his descendents, misogynistic "mainstream" porn, etc. etc., are in fact reflective of a deep fear, shame, and/or disgust toward the body erotic, not just women per se, (as revealed rather more um nakedly than usual in the below-linked).
I mean, for me at least, what always gets me first about all of that stuff isn't that it's "shocking" or even its hatefulness (although the hatefulness is a REAL PROBLEM, yes), but that it's, well, really dull. And lame. And, finally, kind of sad. Painfully so, in fact. Timid, snickering double-entendres; clumsy, ill-timed and ill-judged gropings toward connection; repetitive, unimaginative fantasies. Relatives of Bontsha the Silent, too cowed and stunted, finally, to recognize love and abundance and sensuality even if it were handed to them. Overgrown little boys telling each other stories to keep their fear of the dark at bay. Sad.
Which doesn't preclude getting angry at the harm done by such folk to real live people on the way, of course.