45: Utah
- population:
- 2,736,424
- households:
- 701,281
- housing units:
- 925,242
- square miles:
- 82,144
- characters:
- 2
- paragraphs:
- 7
- graphemes:
- 925
- narrator:
- 1st person
In the other room Bryce is crying. I rub my eyes, waiting for the Oxy to kick in. “God, just shut up,” I whisper. Why isn’t John home yet? He knows I’ve got a reading to finish. The words have all run together. Where the hell was I?
… and while recent studies have shown the popularity of online pornography in Utah (Edelman 2009), the topic of sexuality has been of interest there from even before the states conception, as can be seen in this early proto-Harlequin:
“Message for you from Deseret, Miss Smith.” She took the piece of paper from the telegraph operator:
“Take off your petticoat stop now ride me like the transcontinental railroad.”
“Oh John,” she swooned. The Western Union man stepped forward to catch her as a wave of pleasure spread outwards from her sacred wound.
What is captured in this scene is both the tension between spirituality and sexuality, between technology and distance peculiar to the Utah Mormon experience …
Bryce starts crying again. I lean back in the chair and rub my swelling belly. John still isn’t home. “Who do I need to massacre to get a bottle of gin and an abortion in this town?”
… and while recent studies have shown the popularity of online pornography in Utah (Edelman 2009), the topic of sexuality has been of interest there from even before the states conception, as can be seen in this early proto-Harlequin:
“Message for you from Deseret, Miss Smith.” She took the piece of paper from the telegraph operator:
“Take off your petticoat stop now ride me like the transcontinental railroad.”
“Oh John,” she swooned. The Western Union man stepped forward to catch her as a wave of pleasure spread outwards from her sacred wound.
What is captured in this scene is both the tension between spirituality and sexuality, between technology and distance peculiar to the Utah Mormon experience …
Bryce starts crying again. I lean back in the chair and rub my swelling belly. John still isn’t home. “Who do I need to massacre to get a bottle of gin and an abortion in this town?”
November 8, 2010