Sex Beads and Chess. A Weird Combination.

Sex Beads and Chess. A Weird Combination.

– Calico Rudasill, Sssh.com

The world of chess is a very strange place, filled with very strange people.

I say this as someone who is, quite frankly, terrible at playing chess. I know how the pieces move and have a generalized sense that “controlling the center of the board” is a good thing, if only I knew how to accomplish that feat. But that’s about it.

I can summon precisely two reasons I have even that cursory familiarity with chess and the culture that surrounds it. First, I used to date a guy who was obsessed with the game and eventually became a pretty darn good player, achieving the rank of National Master – which, I should probably point out, given the context in which this post is being published, doesn’t come with a corresponding ranking of “National Submissive”.

Second, I spent a few years working at a software company where the Director of Product Development was just as obsessed with chess as my (long ago) ex-boyfriend, to the point where he named every server on the company’s internal network after a different chess champion. It wasn’t uncommon to hear questions like “Hey – is the Chicago traffic volume file on Tal, or did we move all the Illinois traffic data to Spassky?” echo around the office.

You Know, On Second Thought, Let’s Maybe Not Search for Him

Given my inability to play the game well enough to beat the average pigeon, it should come as no surprise that my interest in the game has been largely confined to interest in those very strange people I referenced earlier – people like Bobby Fischer, who was an odd mix of brilliant chess player, virulent antisemite and all-around fucking weirdo who may well have been mentally ill – and who also happened to play the game at time when there was all sort of international intrigue surrounding chess and its players on the international stage, which probably contributed to his general weirdness.

I could go on with other examples of strange chess people, but I suppose it’s probably time for me to get around to the part that explains why I – a person who generally only writes about sex-related stuff – am writing about chess players in the first place.

Why Am I Writing About Chess Players in the First Place?

The answer is, I had no choice but to write this post, once I had seen this headline: “Chess Player Insists He Didn’t Use Sex Toy To Defeat World Champion.”

My first thought was that perhaps someone had clobbered Magnus Carlsen with an enormous dildo, bludgeoning him in a back alley following a humiliating loss at the chessboard, or perhaps merely as a part of some random fake-dick-on-dude street crime.

As it turns out, however, this headline flows from conspiracy theories crafted to explain how teenager Hans Niemann managed to defeat Carlsen at a recent tournament.

“A rumor circulating on social media — and unsupported by concrete evidence — suggests that Niemann was tapping into a computer program through a ‘prostate massager’ or ‘wireless anal beads’ that could secretly communicate winning moves to him,” HuffPo’s David Moye helpfully explains.

Getting Naked Might Not Help, Hans

An outraged Niemann hotly denied he had anything nefarious up his… er… sleeve.

“If they want me to strip fully naked, I will do it,” Neimann said. “I don’t care. Because I know I am clean.”

To be clear, Hans, I don’t think anyone suggested that you were unclean, just that you cheated at chess using anal beads and/or a smart vibrator, or something.

I’m also not sure that playing naked would be enough to eliminate suspicion here. After all, unless I’m missing something, my strong hunch is that wireless anal beads wouldn’t be readily visible to observers – and I think even the most security-obsessed among us would draw the line at pre-match cavity searches for chess players. Plus, if Fischer’s case is any indication, the only thing you’re going to find up a chess champion’s ass is his own head.