Our sexy empire

Am I the last person on earth to discover the awesome personal ads in the London Review of Books? Somebody sent me a link to LRB’s personals a few days ago, and I was immediately struck by ads such as this one:

Yesterday I was a disgusting spectacle in end-stage alcoholism with a gambling problem and not a hope in the world. Today I am the author of this magnificent life-altering statement of yearning and desire. You are a woman to 55 with plenty of cash and very little self-respect. When you reply to this advert your life will never be the same again. My name is Bernard. Never call me Bernie.

I was blown away to find that when an Englishman participates in the sad ritual of writing a personal ad, it ends up containing all the wit and complexity of a Noël Coward play.

Compare the ad above to one that I found on Craigslist in the US:

So can I play with your boobs? Yup, that's exactly what I want, no sex, just you, straddling me, topless, allowing me to fondle, lick, suck, pinch and enjoy your boobs in every way possible. The size of them doesn't matter, what does is that you enjoy having them played with and tended to. Sure, there are a lot of things to admire in this second ad. The man who wrote it is unmistakably a straight shooter, who has maintained an affinity for women despite the fact that it sounds like his mother may have switched him to formula a little sooner than he would have preferred. His ad displays some of that good old Yankee impulsiveness that America has made famous over the years by blowing up innocent people in proxy wars. Also, I’m sure that women reading this ad will be intrigued to find that he doesn’t just want to play with their breasts, but, in his words, tend to them as well. One can imagine this incredibly considerate young man dressed as a shepherd and leading a flock of breasts of all shapes and sizes toward a lush, green pasture. But even a hardcore American patriot has to admit that this ad lacks all the finesse and charm that is so prevalent in its English counterpart.

It might seem unfair to compare an ad culled from the London Review of Books to something from Craigslist. But after checking out some entries on London’s Craigslist, I found that most of the ads there were just as well written as the ads in LRB. Even the weird ones had at least a small dash of culture:

Married sucessful (sic) businessman seeking Asian young woman for relationship similar to that of Wei Tang in Lust Caution. Please send details and picture.

Granted, that’s a pretty disgusting personal ad. But even at their most repulsive, citizens of London are referencing Ang Lee movies. I didn’t take the time to scour US Craigslist for any film references, but I’m willing to bet that I’d be disappointed. As a US citizen, I’ll be the first to admit that the discrepancy in quality between our personal ads and your personal ads is a huge cultural deficit on our part. After reading the ad written by the American boob-pincher, the businessman looking to cheat on his wife with an Asian woman ends up coming off like Aristotle.