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Archive for May 12th, 2008

Debate on the Internets

May 12th, 2008 | Category: Life

Apparently, my St. Times article and my This American Life episode have caused much debate on the Internets.  Much of the confusion comes from the Times photo.  Basically, to some people I look like some kind of robot or some really fucked up plastic doll.  The second topic is whether or not Sara and I can actually have sex.  So, let’s clarify both.

First, I’m neither a Cylon nor a doll.  Hilariously, the photo is one of the better photos taken of me. Honestly, I do look much better in person.  I’m totally aware that I don’t look like a “normal” fellow at all, but I still don’t get the whole “fake doll” thing. I get it a lot more since I got the tube in my throat. My favorite is, “holy shit, that thing’s real???” I hear that often enough around town. I mean, sure, I’m pretty still and quiet, but why in the fuck would someone push a dummy around a bar in a flat wheelchair and talk to it? If I saw me, my first thought would be “wow, genetics fucked that guy over” and not “holy shit, is that a robot?”  Wait, wait…  What if I am actually the fifth Cylon model?  Could I have gone 27 years without knowing it? Okay, I’ve changed my mind about you robot/doll people.  Pure. Genius.

As for sex, I’m a little old fashioned about getting into details, but this time I will.  Sara and I do have sex, lots and lots of sex. I have more sex than my brother and his friends combined. Actual sex, not some kind of metaphorical pretend sex.  We don’t just share longing glances and write each other erotic angst-filled poetry, we go all the way.  It’s a little on the exotic side, but…  I tell her where to touch her and she puts my hand there.  We kiss, we touch, we do everything, sometimes twice.  I can’t really describe the complete sensuality of our sex life without crossing a line that I don’t want to cross.  I’ll just say that when we’re alone together, we don’t hold anything back.  How’d we get to such a place?  Well, I’m told by many that I’m rather charismatic. Also, the white noise made by my breathing machine puts women into some kind of trance.

So, to some it up: Michael Phillips, not a robot/doll, fucked over by genetics, has lots of sex.

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