Pornography is Media too and it doesn’t exist in a vacuum.

A woman who has her reputation built in the pornography and sex industry has come out in support some troubling things. Jenna Jameson, who had earlier backed Trump, defended the KKK and spoke out about the “Muslim rape gangs overrunning Sweden” on Twitter.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with selling sex, pornography, or even prostitution in theory–but there seems to be a long history of people exploiting women rather than empowering them in these industries and in the case of porn, there’s a long history of racism, in fact there’s enough of it that it’s probably the only thing you can Google with the word “porn” in it and not find actual porn on the first page. Here’s another link for the sake of having it here.

 

No one should be saying that she doesn’t have the right to an opinion. I don’t believe in the argument against celebrities stepping into the limelight to voice their problem with something in the country. After all, they’re citizens the same way we are, the things that plague our country affect them and their children and families.

The issue I have with this is it all seems kind of odd what she’s defending. The KKK, the extremist wings of the Christian Right, the Alt-Right and their band of Neo-Nazis propped up by the likes of Breitbart are the same people who claim women don’t have a voice or claim that women are worthless. Remember that there was some claim that women voting was part of the problem when it looked to most people like Trump was going to lose.

I don’t think that it’s a hard line connecting the racism of the sex industry with the racism of one of it’s workers. Every person in an organization doesn’t have to subscribe to the tenants of where they work. But doesn’t it feel odd that one of the favorite insults of the Alt-Right Gamer Gate types has it’s roots in porn where a white man watches as his wife is taken and used by a black man (we’re talking about the word “cuck” here)? Doesn’t it feel like something is up when the men who label porn online can’t seem to stop referring to the women as sluts, whores, cunts, or whatever else long enough to write a title?

We talk about attitudes about race being affected by the entertainment we intake. Minorities being normalized by appearing in normal roles in television shows and movies and books. Movies still get blasted when they change the race of a character in a way that might be perceived as more “PC” or even when roles are written from scratch and cast with minorities in mind.

These things aren’t brought up in reference to pornography though. The advent of the internet brought with it the unexpected golden age of porn. Where someone fifteen years older than me grew up hiding crinkled images stolen from an old magazine in a lock box a teen in the early 2000s  could find a treasure trove of pictures just by typing a misspelled “pussie” into his search bar. There is already talk about what that does to a kid sexually, but what about what it adds to their view of other races and sex?

Look at the front page of a porn site’s long list of categories. Click through some even. It’s hard to find a video of someone black having sex where their blackness isn’t what the video uses as a selling point. The same can be said about other types of people too. Everyone is broken down by category. Blondes. Redheads. Chubby. MILF. But finding a black couple is like finding a four leafed clover and when your view of sex and relationships is shaped partially by porn from a young age (which it shouldn’t be in the first place) everything in porn is telling you “these people aren’t the norm”.

Now, does this shit doesn’t really matter? The good porn is on Tumblr or Reddit anyway and it’s made by regular people who are brave enough to put themselves out there, not an industry that’s breaking everyone down into categories…but then what about this generation? The one right now. People younger than thirty-five and in middle-class America grew up on this. Shaved genitals have become such a big thing that crabs are almost gone and that came about around the time the internet showed us that women are supposed to look like Barbie Dolls down there. Porn might even be changing how we feel about sex.

If it can do all that, why would we say it can’t have an affect on the kind of couples we see as normal? Why does it matter that a woman with more than 35 Adult Video Awards to her name is saying racist shit on Twitter? We don’t exist in a vacuum and, like it or not, the things we intake do have some effect on us. Did porn make Jenna Jameson racist? I can’t say one way or another. But being told that you’re more valuable than someone as a performer because of their color of your skin seems like it is the kind of thing that might start to sink in after a while.

Bitter Boy Zoo Round Up Shenanigans

I’ve expressed before that I’m simply obsessed with any place that incels gather on the internet. For the uninitiated: an incel is short for involuntary celibate. These are generally men between the ages of sixteen and death that think they are so deformed that no one will sleep with them. Most of the ones I’ve come across have some sort of body dysmorphia because they’ve shared pictures of themselves and they look normal.

Their real problem stems from being so sure that society owes them sexual relationships that they do things like propose the idea that women convicted of crimes should be forces to have sex with them or sing the praises of women below the legal age of consent (because those women are generally too young to know what a sociopath looks like).

The shooter from a few years ago, Elliot Rodger, (I know I have to name them since it can be hard to keep up when these things seem to happen once a week) claimed to be incel in the manifesto that he wrote. Though he seems to be outside of the norm. Most of these guys are too afraid of social interaction to actually hurt anyone. They use words like “normies” or “chads” to describe the rest of us and make it a point to reject the ideas put forth by society that say personality does matter when looking for a mate.

This is, of course, why they fail. They tend to be horrible people with annoying attitudes and no real hobbies besides bitching about not being able to get their dicks wet. They will claim that it’s about more than sex only to turn around and make it all about sex. And while I’m painting them with a pretty wide brush, the ones that are simply unlucky seem to stay away from these guys.

They are pretty fascinating and I fully expect there to be some indie-style documentary on Netflix in the next few year shot by an ambitious twenty-something that plays on the sympathy of their situation.

I’d watch it.

I started this new writing project years ago I didn’t have the direction that I needed to nail down all of the idea. The protagonist was a recently murdered girl who wakes up to find herself unable to remember why she was murdered, who did it, or even who she was. She would learn over time that she was in fact still dead, but somehow also alive, and that she had family and friends who she would need to help solve that murder.

In the course of making the characters for this book I made up a boyfriend who she really didn’t know anymore. The book morphed and morphed again over the years with the character keeping her name, but that’s about it. And when the other characters changed too, the boyfriend slowly became a love interest that she wasn’t into, and more recently became the “where’s my hug” guy that befriends a high school girl that isn’t into him in the hopes of forcing her hand.

That’s where this whole incel thing started. I heard the term used to describe Rodger and realized that the term fit what I was talking about. I stalked their communities to see what they talked about and how they spoke. I won’t be dropping words like KLV (Kissless Virgin) in my story, but I wanted to immerse myself in that world so that I could understand where they were coming from.

Also, I’ve got a really bad morbid curiosity thing going. A few years ago I saw one thing on Purity Balls and basically read every scrap of article I could find on the subject and sat through a few documentaries.

So why this title and what is this blog entry about? Well, I started calling the section of Reddit where these types hang out my “bitter boy zoo”. It seemed appropriate and festive. This is me talking about a research method and taking the “long way ’round”. Research isn’t just skimming a Wikipedia page, but at the same time not everything that you find out has to be put down on the page.

Holding Me Back

So it seemed right when I was determined to get back into writing and putting some real words on the page that my computer started to have a problem. At first I thought it was the graphics card or the power supply, but it just started to be some problem with it  in the sense that something was wrong with how it reacted to certain things. I would open my web browser and the monitor would go off as if I had put the whole computer to sleep.

I could hold the power button on the actual computer to reset it, but before I did that it seemed to be running as normal over there. When I did restart it the computer would come back up with the scan disk application saying that I had improperly restarted.

The computer I had was bought right before Barack Obama was elected the first time. I’ve had a relatively long life span out of most of my Windows computers (one laptop was stolen from me about a week after I purchased it, but that doesn’t count). I wanted to try something different, but not sink a shit-ton of money I don’t have into it.

So when things started to go south I looked into options for buying a Mac. I don’t game, I don’t really do much outside of typing, Lightroom, and Photoshop–so this isn’t one of those things where people can warn me about the drawbacks. I know the drawbacks. I haven’t particularly been much for PC gaming at any point in my life and, besides League of Legends and Sims, I’ve never really played anything on the computer.

Getting the computer here was a fucking nightmare. UPS couldn’t have been less helpful if they had shipped me a box of pissed off hornets, because at least then they would have actually shipped me something. All in all I picked my package up earlier today and I know I need to set goals for myself with writing and with photography and all of the other things I’ve been meaning to do, but haven’t.

Procrastination is easy and excuses are really plentiful, but the fact of the matter is that I haven’t put in the work the way I should have and that’s my own fault (I could have written on the iPad even when the computer was gone). The big thing holding me back is that I’m just not writing and that has to stop.

Facebook Friends

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The word “friends” takes on a strange connotation on Facebook. Currently I have two hundred seventy-seven friends, which is down about thirty from earlier this year. At the height of my friend-getting I think that I had around five or six hundred. There was a point several years ago where having a lot of friends on Facebook seemed like something of an accomplishment or, at the very least, something to be aspired to.

Over the years I’ve been battered down by conspiracy theories, begging for attention, and strange political views that I’ve come to realize less is more on Facebook. All of those people who complain about what the site has become don’t realize that’s in part to the people and likes on their Facebook list. Those things decide what Facebook is for you.

About a year and a half ago a friend of mine hid most of the people on his friends list from actually appearing on his wall unless they mentioned him and the results were astounding. He was interacting with people he actually wanted to interact with–Facebook has become a lot like the Game of Thrones for some of us: we’re forced to keep up these relationships for the sake of appearances, etiquette, satisfying old debts, or because of family ties. I don’t think I know anyone with a Facebook friends list that’s one hundred percent what they want it to be.

We can trim parts off, but a lot of it is inconsequential. There’s always that uncle that you really can’t get rid of without catching flack from family. Or that ex-co-worker who seems to magically post on your wall every time you come home looking to delete them. Or that girl who posts crazy stuff, but that will often times post a really cute picture…

I bit the bullet and deleted some people right before the election. Not just because of differing opinions, but because I didn’t like the idea of someone threatening shooting sprees if their candidate lost or that was really enthused about “pussy grabbin'”. Since two of these people in particular have tried to add me back, but what is it you really want? We don’t actually talk, that’s why the decision to get rid of you was extra easy, and we aren’t particularly friends either.

Look, I’m not saying that you have to agree with your friends about everything, but I am saying that no one should be forced to be friends that’s past the age of, like, five. We can like who we like and not deal with others. That goes for family too. And if you live your life without subjecting yourself to people who you really don’t want to, maybe things will be a little better for all of us.

Post Election 2016

I had this brilliant post all figured out and then the election went and happened. I was going to ignore the whole thing regardless of who won, because before the whole thing was finished I hadn’t really considered the whole of what a Trump presidency meant.

I’ve been scared for a while that he’d win and despite the fact that everyone around me was telling me that it was impossible that someone like him could win–I’m not going to do the whole blame thing, though I think there’s a lot of it to go around (most of it resting squarely on the uneducated rural masses that seem to think a New York billionaire who’s never given a shit about them gives a shit about them), but I am going to say that the one thing that I’m tired of hearing is that people out there need to stop protesting.

I lived through eight years of President Obama being protested against about all the awful things that he was going to do that he has yet to do. Considering he’s only got a few weeks left in office I think we’re not going to see any of that shit.

People are scared that their rights to marry who they want, their right to control their reproductive freedom, their right to be who they are might be stripped away from them. Those are all very scary things that I guess wouldn’t matter if you’re straight and a guy.

It’s you’re right to protest and it’s your right to be scared. There’s good reason to be scared of a man who called a climate change “a Chinese hoax” while a good section of the part of the country that voted for him is burning in the middle of fucking November. And I haven’t even mentioned the whole racism thing. The country has been ablaze with racism. Someone posted racist bullshit on the wall at a college right north of me.

I don’t really think that Trump invented racism. I don’t think that’s even possible to claim that. I don’t even think he stirred it all up. A good section of the GOP did that, the online white nationalist presence in this country has been on fire online; Trump didn’t put them there. Trump even claimed not to know or like them. But they have been emboldened by all of this and that’s a genie that won’t be put back in the bottle easily.

Now, on a positive note, Trump has walked back like half of the shit he said already. So to any who voted to him on “policy” it looks like you shouldn’t get your hopes up.

 

Belonging 

I went out to see Doctor Strange on Thursday night. It was supposed to be the highlight of my day. I’ve been counting down the days over the last month. There’s a tiny theater connected to my neighborhood. It also happens to be in the same building as my favorite comic book store. I’m in the place about once a week and people know me and I know the area. 

The movie had been moved to a new auditorium and was starting late, but by the time I stopped bullshitting with the guys in the comic book store I was coming into the theater after most people had taken their seats. A woman pointed to the area where my seat was and I walked down the front part of he aisle (our theater has wide aisles in front of the seats for waiters to pass along without disturbing the viewers). The seat numbering seemed off and the seats in the area where the employee had pointed me to were filled. I was in seat 13 of the row I was on and I saw a seat marked 513 and assumed it was that one. 

Suddenly a bearded man around my age or a little younger stands up from a seat a little to my right and asks “Are you sure you’re in the right theater?” He doesn’t come toward me or really move except to point. “They’re playing the Madea movie in another one.”

Oh, I get it now. That’s very clever. Black people, as we know, would only come to the theater to see the latest Madea movie or tales of triumph set during slave times. I wasn’t sure if he was going to tell me how brace I was next. It was raining, after all, and we know the blacks can’t swim. 

He laughed after that and sat back down. I figured out my error a few seconds after ignoring him. There was a second set of white painted numbers on the bottom of the upturned seats. I found my chair near the middle of the row buffeted by a man playing on his phone and a man who would continually talk to himself and push down on the empty seat between us hitting me in the leg. 

The movie was really good and I was thrilled to see it. Did the small interaction at the start ruin it for me? No. I’ve had worse said about me, although I really hate Tyler Perry movies, so this is an insult on two levels. There’s not a moral to this story unless it’s this: these kinds of things happen. I went into public to enjoy a movie and a stranger made a racist joke. I’m minding my own business and it doesn’t matter. People feel the need  to comment on my race. I’m sure if asked this guy would be one of the ones who “has black friends” and “doesn’t see race”. 

Yeah, sure. 

Scared For The Future of My Country

I’ve been stressed. I stopped by Wendy’s earlier and couldn’t finish a medium meal, which is not normal for me. Sleep is hard to come by and in the mornings I’m awake but don’t want to get up.

I lay in bed on my phone talking to friends and trying to avoid the bad news on sites like Reddit or Facebook. I throw on the MBMBAM podcast, but part of the way through I realized I’ve zoned out and don’t know what they’re laughing at. I missed the entirety of the last goof.

Work is surprising in that it is calming. No one really brings up the outside issues there and not many people really talk to me. I kind of like it that way. But the fact of the matter is it’s an election year and the things coming out of this election are causing me to be really afraid for my country.

Think that a few years ago a statement about binders of women or a weird scream was enough to get you flack. I miss the days of Bush and Romney when I look at the candidate that people have chosen to support.

There’s such an undercurrent of hatred in this election and the odd thing is that the guy stirring it up is somehow saying he’s the victim. He’s calling Mexicans rapists and bragging about sexual assault. He’s saying he wants to bring back unconstitutional stop and frisk laws and that he wants to default on our debt (which puts the world economy at risk). He’s asking why we don’t use nukes more often.

Notice I didn’t cite any of that. Mostly because it doesn’t matter. I’m on a phone and I won’t waste my time making the buggy copy paste system work for people who either know all that already or refuse to believe it. Even though it’s fact. It’s recorded that Trump has said these things; we’ve become anti-fact.

And the thing is what he’s taken advantage of scares me as much as Trump, because it will continue win or lose. There’s not really a chance for a conversation with people who are threatening to commit acts of terror against foreigners or “grab their musket” if they don’t get their way.

I’m thinking maybe America isn’t the place for me and a lot of people seem to not want people like me here. I’m thinking maybe this doesn’t get better after this.

Since people question my personhood still of ponder the idea of women not being able to vote can we really even say that we tried?