Everyone knows immigration is a hot button issue right now, but not what kind of hot button: the clit. (It's more often compared to a pencil eraser or referred to as the man in the boat, but as Tristan Taormino recently pointed out, there's not many slang words for the clitoris. So here's some I've made up: fenis; slipple; beef curtain peppercorn; juice dispenser; hood rat; valley ball; hair gulch boulder; Sally slipper; speed bump; broken lock; cave marble; teat two; dropped contact; permapimple; eye of the tigress; Dolores; vagit; dicklamp. You're welcome.) I expected Mexicum (Smash) to trenchantly explore the unexamined issue of what our illegal immigrants (particularly Latinos) offer us sexually, and I don't simply mean as exploitable beings, though of course I also mean that. They've brought to this country many wonderful things that we may someday find tolerable, like reggaeton and the Puerto Rican parade, and many more things that we've fallen in love with and stolen. But no one's telling us what sexual positions they've introduced here, or the fruitful products of their commonly Catholic upbringings, or whether they're into men of European descent who took a little bit of Spanish in high school. Yes, we all know of the young women in hoop earrings who cry, “Ay papi!” but surely there's more to convince middle America of the value of our immigrants.
While it's a step in the right direction, Mexicum will not fundamentally shift the immigration dialogue in this country. (A Spanish-language version of the “Star-Spangled Banner,” on the other hand . . .) First of all, I didn't even know Haley Paige (pic) was Mexicum. (Vocabulary note: A Mexicum is a Mexican who has “cum” to the United States.) And oddly, her scene--which begins the generously proportioned starlet sunning herself in white cotton top and bottom, sporting a conspicuous camel toe--teams her up with a Frenchman, who secretly masturbates to her display, then “charms” her into fucking him. I appreciate that this isn't a monolithic representation of immigrant life, but the cultural static gets a little distracting there. But hey, if America isn't best represented as a melting pot, it's a tossed salad, right? (Carrots out now!) Kat (pic) doesn't indulge any stereotypes either. Playing a student at junior college, still in braces, she engages in some mildly rough sex with her plumber--a white man (albeit blue collar. Me, I'm read all over). Jasmine Byrne (pic), Kathleen Kruz (pic), and Sativa Rose (pic) anchor a couple FFM scenes between them (and maybe a couple others, I lost track), and since they aren't vignettes, we have to guess at the implications. I'm thinking the abundance of gals says something about cheap labor. The best scene of all goes micro, peering into the life of Christina Agave, who watches porn naked only to have her older sister's boyfriend (the plumber, if I'm not mistaken) come upon her and then come upon her. If this is a commentary on the close inter-generational family relationships in Latin America, I don't know what it's saying. But the scene's hot to death--Christina strikes the perfect balance of demure but interested, and the boyfriend slowly but firmly takes it all the way to her ass. It's the American dream.
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