They just don’t make sadists like they used to. Whereas once we had the Marquis de Sade — whose work is currently the subject of not one but two exhibitions in Paris — the 21st century’s most prominent dominant is Christian friggin’ Grey, the sub-Patrick Bateman protagonist of E.L. James’ Fifty Shades trilogy. Grey is to bondage what Robert Pattinson is to vampires, and frankly, it’s hard to imagine his oh-so-mesmeric personality exerting a hold over any but the most basic bitches of BDSM. In deference to Sade, we amused ourselves thinking about some real-life women who would have Grey for breakfast.
Betty Davis
Christian Grey: “Come, I want to show you my playroom.” [opens door] Betty Davis: “Oh, you have velvet handcuffs and a cute little riding crop?” Christian Grey: “I have all manner of—” Betty Davis: “I HAVE A TURQUOISE CHAIN, BITCH.” Christian Grey: “…” Betty Davis: “I’d tie him up with my turquoise chain! Yeah, he couldn’t get enough! Nah, he’d be on the floor… Oh, begging me for more!” Christian Grey: [edges toward door] Betty Davis: “I used to WHIP him!”
Anaïs Nin
Christian Grey: “I want you, and the thought of anyone else having you is a knife twisting in my dark soul.” Anaïs Nin: “Well, Chris, I’m afraid you’re shit out of luck.” Christian Grey: “My love, what are you saying?” Anaïs Nin: [produces copy of diary] Christian Grey: “Wait… what? You did what?” Anaïs Nin: [takes leisurely puff of cigarette from elegant cigarette holder] Christian Grey: “WHO THE FUCK IS HENRY MILLER?”
Nicki Minaj
Christian Grey: “I don’t know whether to worship at your feet or spank the living shit out of you.” Nicki Minaj: “Well, first things first I’ll eat your brains.” Christian Grey: “Um…” Nicki Minaj: “Then I’mma start rocking gold teeth and fangs.” Christian Grey: “Er…” Nicki Minaj: “COS THAT’S WHAT A MOTHERFUCKIN’ MONSTER DO!” Christian Grey: [falls to knees, worships fervently]
Ruth Bader Ginsburg
Christian Grey: “I want you to surrender to me, willingly, in all things.” Ruth Bader Ginsburg: “That’s a disappointingly lazy statement, Christian. How are we defining ‘surrender’ here? What does ‘willingness’ mean in this context?” Christian Grey: “Um… OK, I want you to accede to my will, of your own consent, in all things.” Ruth Bader Ginsburg: “But by what means is consent provided? Also, what ‘things’? This drafting is loose and ill-conceived, Christian, even for you.” Christian Grey: “FINE THEN. WHEREAS Christian Grey (The Dominant) and ______ (The Submissive) desire to enter into a Sexual Relationship (as defined in Schedule A to this Agreement): a) The Submissive will provide written consent in advance of any sexual encounter; b) The Submissive will carry out the orders of the Dominant, provided that: i) The use of a word as agreed in the written consent (the “Safe Word”) shall end any sexual encounter immediately; ii) Failure to observe the Safe Word shall render this contract null and void. c) The Dominant shall provide all necessary equipment, including but not limited to: whips, chains, leather gimp masks, candles, plastic tubing, a yak and other similar apparatus as required. d) The Submissive shall address the Dominant as ‘Master’ and under no circumstances shall he/she refer to him as ‘that boring Fifty Shades guy.'” Ruth Bader Ginsburg: “Oh, I see.” Christian Grey: “Finally.” Ruth Bader Ginsburg: “Get the fuck out of here. I’m not signing that.” Christian Grey: “dfsjkhdfhljdgfsjhlgdfsjhgdfs”
Lydia Lunch
Lydia Lunch: “So you want to do something that’s a little bit not too afro-centric-erotic-space-groove-jazz-fuck-acid-punk? Come on, what do you want?” Christian Grey: “I want you to—” Lydia Lunch: “Come on, baby. It’s all about power, baby.” Christian Grey: “Silence! I command you to—” Lydia Lunch: “You want me to make you feel like you ain’t never felt before, baby?” Christian Grey: “I’m the one asking the questio—” Lydia Lunch: “Don’t tell me to control myself. I mean, you don’t want me to control myself, do you?” Christian Grey: “Mommy!” [runs out of the room] Lydia Lunch: [sighs] “Men are all the same.”
Hillary Clinton
Christian Grey: “I’m 50 shades of fucked-up.” Hillary Clinton: “Pfffft… have you ever spent any time in Congress?”
Marina Abramovic
Christian Grey: “I want you sore, baby.” Marina Abramovic: [stares silently] Christian Grey: “Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I’ve been here.” Marina Abramovic: [stares silently] Christian Grey: “Oh for the love of god, say something!” Marina Abramovic: [stares silently]
Divine
Divine: “I’M SO BEAUTIFUL!” Christian Grey: “Yes, my dear. You are exquisite.” Divine: “YOU’VE GOTTA BELIEVE IT!” Christian Grey: “I do believe it. Now, be silent, as you submit to—” Divine: “CAN’T YOU SEE? LOOK AT ME!” Christian Grey: “Look, you’re not taking this ser—” Divine: “I’M SO BEAUTIFUL!” Christian Grey: [deep sigh]
Salt and/or Pepa (and DJ Spinderella, for that matter)
Salt: “Yeah, you come here, gimme a kiss. Better make it fast or else I’m gonna get pissed.” Christian Grey: “For you, Salt-n-Pepa, I will try.” Pepa: “Can’t you hear the radio pumping hard like I wish you would?” Christian Grey: “Look, I’m pushing 30… It’s not as easy as it used to be.” Salt: “Now push it!” Christian Grey: [whimpers pitifully] Pepa: “Oh well, the man with the three-piece suit again, eh?” Salt: “I’m down.”