BijouBlog

Though the information in this book is quite fascinating in scope, it seems like the real appeal is for size queens. For example, the book includes a picture by Tom of Finland, whose drawings with exaggerated cocks play on the age-old fascination that a big dick is power, an aphrodisiac that makes all who come in contact with a big beautiful cock swoon. So to illustrate the point, the majority of the photos in this book are of famous porn stars with 11-inch dicks or longer: Cassidy, Dakota, Ray Fuller, and the legendary John Holmes.

Nothing is new under the sun or under the covers, for that matter. This obsession with a big cock and its potency is apparently something men never grow out of. That desire sublimates itself even today in the constant ads for Viagra and similar products. But as Dr. Ruth has advised, in a multitude of ways, bigger is not necessarily better.

But can big mean better, or even best, in certain contexts? In the case of the porn stars above, the big cock works in their favor as an immediately identifiable indicator of sexual power, prowess and sexual gratification. Isn't that why many gay men watch porn? To share in that power, and then enjoy good sex where the whole time your dick feels like it is 13 inches (even it it's not) because you feel good about yourself and your sexuality. So as I see it in the end (pun intended), sorry Dr. Ruth, bigger is better.

Lee Ryder was born in 1959 as Darras Robert Pyron. He was California born and bred, raised in Laguna, and he graduated from Esperanza High School in Anaheim.

After Mark Reynolds discovered him and featured him in All American Boys, he literally made a splash in Falcon Studio's Huge in 1982.

He starred in thirteen features between 1982 and 1986, including Bijou titles Screenplay, A Few Good Men, Giants 1, and 2 X 10.

Now, of course, if one views these films, it's clear that Lee Ryder's cock is pretty much legendary. According to one Jeff Starkey, who reviewed the movie Screenplay in tandem with Ryder's appearances at the Bijou Theater to greet fans and sign autographs back in 1984:

"Ryder's cock is long, thick, and shapely and is criss­crossed by just the right number of lovely veins. Beneath it hang a perfectly balanced pair of what appear to be 5­pound balls. When his cock appears in public, it is usually hard as a baseball bat, with its swollen head looking purple and petulant."

Purple and petulant? Wow. Perhaps those adjectives could apply to the cock, but not the person.

In an interview with Stallion magazine, known for his sexually aggressive but also unforced, natural screen presence, seems rather low­key, both veering between a quiet confidence in himself, but also showing a somewhat self­-deprecating attitude. Definitely not the “divo” attitude of so many celebrities: “Everyone wants to look at me, I am the Adonis with the giant cock and all should worship me."

In fact, in the interview, he actually seems rather pragmatic: he does it for the money, and for his business (he actually was a successful floral designer), but ... he actually doesn't see himself as a sex symbol. He just enjoys being himself, and letting a chink of vulnerability come out, being wanted.

(We also find out in the interview he had a relationship with an older guy from ages 15 to 18, who tragically committed suicide soon after they broke up.)

To add to the complexity of his character, despite his appearance at the Bijou and other venues as a gay porn celebrity, he actually admits he would rather not be recognized (he even goes to Europe to escape the attention)... and he notices, even when he does, the guys stay away, or “they stare – I guess I do show a big crotch – or they look at my eyes.”

To be honest, at least for me, the eyes can be just as erotic as, especially in Ryder's case, a dick of death. And Ryder he admits in the interview that he loves his eyes. And rightly so!
 

His eyes make love to the camera, like those of that famous movie star Joan Crawford (completely the opposite in her approach to celebrity). The eyes themselves create a unique effect in the viewer; they seem to draw you in with a promise of something intense; you think he is looking directly at you via the camera, which could satisfy your desire, but you at the same time feel like you will always want more. Perhaps it's their narrow shape but also richly colored pupils. I don't know, but I can't stop looking at his picture on the cover on Stallion magazine as I write this piece.

And I promise you, you won't be able to take your eyes off of Lee Ryder in our remastering of Huge (now Huge 1) as he beats his meat while perched on the toilet ­ ­ making it bigger, hotter and harder. He, Rick Jensen and Matt Stoker roll around on the cold concrete floor, licking each other's hairy armpits and sitting on each other's faces.

Even the conservative National Review, despite its biases and nasty overgeneralizations about feminism, satirized (I would hope this is the case) some more extreme reactions to this posture. The article is actually more upset that “big government” would intervene even to the point of arresting someone(?!).

Yet, how dare a municipality put up a sign reminding people (in this case, mostly men) to just be more considerate of others on public transportation. And not just manspreading, but loud headphones and backpacks and other luggage and staring into phones and thus not watching where one is going while entering and exiting ...

The fact is, both sexes use specific body language to assert dominance; in the case of guys, such dominance usually involves taking up space, marking territory, as it were.

Manspread is one of those postures, as is the hands on hips or arms akimbo one. The latter also indicates readiness (sports players often stand this way waiting for action in a game) as well as dominance, and some studies have revealed that African-American women will also use this pose to show disagreement or even disgust.

Have I noticed this pose? Yes, of course, because who at gay men isn't looking for a seductive bulge? A gay man thus might interpret this pose differently, as a sexual come-on, however unconscious. But does a gay man interpret the accompanying power dynamic differently?

I could see this particularly pose as actually more submissive than dominant. The cock is open for play. And for those BDSM-inclined guys, open for cock and ball torture. In a pansexual BDSM scene, a dominatrix might want this pose so she could squeeze the guy's cock and balls. I even coined a term called “slavespread;” a sub bottom slave would sit this way, hands behind his back, cock and balls exposed.

I don't want to suggest that everyone should thus enjoy manspreading. There's a time and place to get horny, be it a dominant, submissive or mutual interaction. Move your legs. Let someone else sit next to you. Well, in the case of a gay man, that action might end up becoming an even more intimate proposition.

Despite these setbacks the gay liberation counterculture was in full swing, despite so many setbacks, and the gay porn industry, at that time a major outlet for expressing openly (and often artistically) gay men's sexuality, was flourishing in its film to movie theater format.

When I first came out in the eighties, there was a big gay bar that I guess you could also call a cabaret in Chicago, called Gentry. It was rumored to be the place to pick up a rich husband. Now, apparently, such places were not at all uncommon in Chicago, strictly gay cabarets often featuring drag performers, as far back as the 1930s.

According to Lucinda Fleeson in an article called “The Gay 30s,” there was place called Diamond Lil's, at 909 North Rush Street (get the reference to Mae West?), that was so popular people ended up being turned away. And the high society people flocked to those places; the Chicago Gray Line Sightseeing Company included gay pick up venues such as Bughouse Square in front of the Newberry Library as part of its package, appealing to the allure of what is strange, different, “queer.”

Yes, Chicago was Sin City, until mayor Edward Kelly decided to “clean up” the nightlife, and the moral panic of 1936 (everyone was a potential sex predator; remember the 1980s Satanic day care crisis? Same mentality) pretty much ended what was called “The Pansy Craze.”

Tastes have changed, and cabaret seems to have become a more specialized entertainment, not because of its audience, but because of its musical appeal. Some claim that piano bars/cabarets in general declined by the late eighties because of the popularity of electronic music, disc jockeys, bands, and even live karaoke.

In fact, I can't think of a specifically gay cabaret in Chicago since the closing of Gentry (it tried to revive itself in Boystown after leaving the Rush Street area, but it has since closed). There's a place called Davenports in the hipster area Wicker Park which is a piano bar not specifically gay (I noticed on its schedule a gay tribute for Pride Month, focusing on gay icons of the past, but no drag acts), and Mary's Attic, a gay venue in the now heavily gay area of Andersonville often puts on cabaret acts.