A Cinekink 2012 Wrap-Up Part I

Well, dearest degenerates, Cinekink NYC 2012 has come and gone. Many have cum thinking about what they saw, and much debauchery has gone on at after-parties. The festival was, as before, a place for weirdos and pervs and sophisticates to come together, learn, and celebrate each other’s kinks and craziness. I was once again delighted to count myself among their number, and honored to be asked to do on-site interviews for the event this year. Video interviews are posted at Cinekink.com, featuring myself and many of the filmmakers who repped their films. Check it out, please! I think I did a rather excellent job.

Sadly, I didn’t see all the films at the festival this year, as I wasn’t able to make it to the opening gala or to some of the other screenings over the course of the week. However, I did see a boat load of them, and I, as always, have got some commentary to offer.

The winner of the Best Documentary Feature, Stage Brother, by Richard Buonagurio, was… well… it was weird but riveting. (Interviews will be up soon and I’ll link to it.) The real-life story of a young man who decides to become his sister’s manager on her journey to try to get into Playboy magazine, the film documented not only the baldly pseudo-incestuous relationship between a budding maybe-porn star and her doting brother, but also the havoc her career trajectory and narcissism wreaked upon the rest of the family. Tinged with sexual danger, rooted firmly in familial love, featuring WHACK! favorite Brittany Andrews (who served as a mentor to Jennifer), and spiked with fake-tan and melodrama, Stage Brother was Jersey Shore with an actual emotional connection. It was creepy and sometimes too-honest, but I couldn’t look away.

After Fall, Winter, the second in an ongoing series by Eric Schaeffer, was described as an S&M love story, but unfolded in on-location-in-Paris cinematic splendor as more of a troubled-kink primer on What Not to Do as a Kinkster. The acting was superb, the pacing mostly on par, the visuals lush… but the take-away message? While director/star Eric Schaeffer insisted in the Q&A that the film was kink-positive, I saw some problems in its Romeo & Juliet gone awry ending and its treatment of BDSM as merely an outlet for the negativity built up in both characters rather than a part of a healthy sexual experience. The film was absolutely beautiful, but I felt that it may have oversimplified its characters motivations for involvement in their kinks. But don’t let that minor indictment keep you away from this movie—it’s truly beautiful and well worth your own assessment.

Sirwiñakuy, by Amy Hesketh, an oddball modern take on an Aymara practice of “trail marriage” in which a bride is essentially kidnapped and “tested” by a prospective husband, was beautiful in a classic French film way—long silences, awkward moments, wan heroine and all. A truer S&M love story, along the same lines as Secretary, but with a much more artistic flair.

Sisterhood of the Sash was a shorter and obviously more female version of last year’s feature-length documentary on International Mr. Leather, Kink Crusaders. Sisterhood of the Sash, a reflection on the 25^th annual Internation Miss Leather competition, was a beautiful, thoughtful, and lovely ode to the women of the leather community, who turned out in force to support it. The leather community never ceases to impress me—as far as kink communities go, this one has come together in a very real, very powerful, and very political way. Both IMsL 2011 herself, the indomitable and beautiful Sarah Vibes, and IMsBB (and Salacious Magazine editor in chief), kd, were there for the screening and to represent the leather family.

Cabaret Desire, Erika Lust’s most recent major release based on the idea of the Poetry Brothel (of which yours truly is a practicing whoreish member) was… Well, you all know or can very easily discover how much I love Cabaret Desire. The film is fun, sexy, and utterly appropriate for Cinekink, though seeing it on the big screen as opposed to my teeny tiny television at home was a bit of a revelation. For one thing, I hadn’t caught, on my tiny TV, that there is a vajazzled vagina in this movie. I don’t think the filmmaker was particularly thrilled about it, as it’s only indirectly shown in two small flashes, but, still. Vajazzling. You heard it here first. And, though I am a massive fan of Ms. Lust’s work as an erotic filmmaker and had advocated for the film’s legitimacy among members of the Poetry Brothel beforehand, I did realize during a few of the more wet-slapping-sound intense sex scenes that watching sex in a dark theater can be a bit weird.

The documentary (A)sexual, about the small but increasingly vocal group of people worldwide who identify as absolutely not interested in sex, was enthralling. It didn’t pretend to be a purely objective docu, as it followed closely the exploits of ­­­­­­­David Jay, the leader of the asexual movement, with all his eccentricities on unapologetic display. It didn’t take asexuality as a reality an more than it denied its existence as a sexual identity, and it showcased the problems inherent in such an identification. But it also, very adeptly and almost lovingly, addressed the importance of the right to self-identification in matters of sex. The haters who declared that asexuality was not real, the television commentators who demanded an explanation, the shaming attitude that sexual people tended to take and the apologetic stances that asexuals were forced to adopt in response… it all made me sit up and take note. What was going on here? If sex positive people like myself are forever complaining about the existence and prevalence of sexual shame—if we are concerned that sex is considered shameful by our culture, rather than beautiful—and if we thought that one way to escape this shame might be to renounce sex… well, then we were wrong. Apparently to have sex is shameful, but so is not to have sex. There is no way to win. This is perhaps even more problematic than I thought it was. There is no way to win, aside, of course, from having marital sex in the dark with the lights off in missionary position for the purposes of procreation. How depressing. And how important! Asexuals may be a largely unstudied minority, and who knows? Maybe they’re not even a real phenomenon as far as psychologists are concerned. But the issues they bring to light, and the community they provide for one another, is of the deepest cultural importance imaginable.

—Miss Lagsalot

Consent in Porn: Sobriety on Set

Let's talk about something really important, everybody. Let's talk about performer consent in porn. This is a topic that I've brought up here and there, but that I've largely avoided a frank blog post or column about because, to be honest, it scares me. The lines around what works as consent in my mind (the word "yes" explicitly said and restated as often as possible, eager participation by both parties, continual confirmation of eagerness to participate, and so on, not to mention all the correct forms signed by all parties of legal age and of sound mind and body) are not exactly the same as the lines around what constitutes consent on the set of every porno ever filmed. I know this. And it makes me uncomfortable.

I'm lucky to have a status in the world of professional pornography that brings me a lot of porn DVDs for review material. Which is to say that the majority of what I watch for review is made by large-ish companies that have a big enough budget to: A) make DVDs of their content, B) ship those DVDs to me for free, and most importantly C) employ professionals working in the adult industry, pay them on time and well (though that's open to much discussion, of course), run all their paperwork, etc. One of the best things about content from these companies is that, because most of their content is protected enough to require people to buy it a lot of the time, they tend to film people who are, if not at the very top of their game, at least know what's going on. They are professionals, who come to the set with a full understanding of what is expected of them and what they're getting into. There are no "Surprise, buttsex!" moments, or forced situations--or at least very few of them and very unsurprising ones when they do happen--that would blur the lines of consent for me, the viewer. And just as important, there are few instances in which a performer appears to be less than sober in these movies, thus making consent a very sticky topic indeed.

This might be one of the main reasons I've avoided this topic. I do believe that there are certain jobs that can be performed absolutely brilliantly when certain substances are in use. I am not a hard-liner about intoxicants--I feel like, if I were cornered on the subject, I might argue that coming to work with a head full of cold medicine could affect my work performance just as much as smoking a joint beforehand, or somesuch nonsense argument. But the point is that while I absolutely see the need for total sobriety on set for legal reasons, I have never been one to think that if someone were to show up to a porn set with a little THC in their system, or a glass of wine with lunch beforehand, that should negate the scene. But there are limits. One reason I tend to steer clear of online pornography is that one is apt to see people who are not in control of their faculties--"party girl" scenes shot in clubs (whether these are really amateurs or not is open to debate, of course) where alcohol has obviously been consumed make me feel nervous. Girls Gone Wild makes me uncomfortable. Scenes in which any of the performers look "out of it" or "wired" or generally not in a sound enough frame of mind to decide whether they really want to be filmed doing what they're doing... these all make me blatanly unhappy because I believe that pornography is a generally good thing that, although it's often done wrong, deserves our money and a bit of respect. I want very much to believe that the porn industry can thrive on informed consent, depictions of real pleasure, and professionalism. I want very much to spread that message.

But it's to my detriment if I pretend that a large part of the industry, the part that I rarely see, thrives on exploitation and loopholes in the law. I someone is sober enough to scripple a signature on a piece of paper and show an ID, that does not mean that the same person is sober enough to make the decision to be blowbanged on camera for all the world to see. But it happens to people who are not sober. And I wish it didn't. My usual answer to this is to encourage people to pay for their porn--to spend some dollars on the offerings of companies who operate above the board and who would never film, much less release, footage of someone who was obviously intoxicated. Reward those who do good with your consumer dollars and more of the products they make--legally, consensually, and pleasurably--will be filmed. Avoid contributing in any way to the very real exploitation that some other companies participate in. The laws of economics will, if everyone follows my advice (hah!), tip in the favor of the Good Guys.

All of this is the elaborate build-up to me telling you that a few days ago I popped in a DVD from a VERY large and VERY well-known company with the intention of reviewing it. I decided to watch that one because I've gotten into a habit of reviewing only feature films with plots and scripts lately, and wanted to get back in touch with what was going on with gonzo porn. This one was a few months old, but it looked fun, and I was familiar with a few of the performers in it, so it would make a good study. I got most of the way through the film and had some really interesting notes, including some on one scene that was so intensely hot and so screamingly consensual that I couldn't wait to tell the world how fabulous it was... when a performer I haven't seen much of lately, but who I met a few years ago, showed up on the screen. Though the rest of the scenes thus far had followed a "tease" dance followed by sex, this went directly into the sex without any dancing or teasing from the actress. "Well, ok," I thought. Gonzo movies often are just compilations of similar scenes and you can't always get what you want.

But as the scene progressed I realized something was really wrong. The actress was visibly drunk. She seemed to be having a good enough time, but the vacant look in her eyes and the fumbling way she went about what she was doing made me realize that, if I were a director and this woman stumbled into my scene, I would get someone to drive her home because she was too far gone to get herself there. And in my book, if a person is too drunk to operate a motor vehicle, that person is certainly too drunk to be filmed having sex.

But then, of course, it's not that simple, is it? This being a big company with "contract girls" who are actually employed and paid to make a certain number of movies or scenes, this actress may have already had all her paperwork squared away. She may have shown up to other sets drunk and was perhaps in danger of not fulfilling her contract; the director may have been trying to help by letting her shoot. There are all sorts of reasons that her inability to soberly consent may have been only one of many considerations going into this scene. But the fact remains: she was too intoxicated to be legally filmed. And if she was filmed, the footage should never have been released.

I tried to deny it to myself; this was a very above-the-board company. The director is well known. The performers were both professionals. But that look on her face told me another story. And was it just me, or were her nostrils a bit pinker than they needed to be?

I don't like to stir up controversy, and I really don't want anyone to ever see that scene, so I won't use any names. But I remembered the first time I'd met this woman a few years before. She had been at a party after a convention and making an absolute spectacle of herself at the hotel bar. There's social-drunk, which I absolutely was at that point, and then there's self-destructive blackout drunk. She was the latter. It was uncomfortable to be around her in that state. Not that what I saw at a party years ago has much bearing on someone's current state, but it did at least give me a clear memory of what this particular looks like when she's far-too-many-sheets to the wind, and I was seeing it on my TV. I had turn off the movie and nix the review. I hope to my very bones that she is ok and that the scene I saw was just a one-off affair. I hope that things like that never happen to her again, or to anyone else. And I really hope that companies with reputations to uphold, who could act as good examples for the rest of the industry along with anyone who wants to cast aspersions upon it, don't let things like this happen on their sets. Ever. Because I want so much for porn to be ok, and for people to be able to make movies and have fun and make money. But sometimes... it gets hard to keep up my hopes.

Consent: Careening through Curatorial Carnality

How's THAT for an alliterative title, folks? I love alliteration when I'm writing about porn and sex. I know it's hokey. I know it's campy. But it's an aside to often deadly-serious subject matter that brightens my day. Of course, I've long suspected that I have the sense of humor of a 70-year-old man (for instance, I adore puns), but so what? I like my rants to be rife with ridiculous reams of consonants.

Anyway.

I've been doing interviews with porn consumers for this art show at apexart I'm curating in the spring (March 21 - May 12). Most of them are just friends who have an interesting perspective on the subject matter, and I'm really just getting started. So far I have about six under my belt, and I've got eight more scheduled in the next two weeks. We've been talking about people's experiences with pornography and how they have or have not thought about them. How those experiences have or have not changed the way they view sex or sexuality. How they've affected relationships, self-awareness, and understanding of the issue of consent. It's been fascinating so far. I'd always known in the abstract, of course, that the way people think about these things is as varied as anything else about human nature--infinitely. But these conversations have made me realize just how much people differ on topics of sexuality, and how much they're the same. For instance, I've spoken to people who have used pornography regularly for their entire adult lives, sometimes to a point of near obsession, and yet have spent an incredibly small amount of time reflecting upon what that means for their experience of sex or their understanding of themselves. But then others have amazed me with the depth of their reflections upon their habits and desires. Some are blithely unconcerned; some are deadly serious. It's absolutely riveting. And I'm sure there's more learning to come from them. I can't wait.

On January 17th I'll fly to Burbank for a few days to collect as many interviews with porn industry insiders as humanly possible there, until flying to Las Vegas on the 20th to catch even more performers, directors, producers, etc. in Sin City for the AVN awards and AEE expo. These interviews will cover the same general topics as the consumer interviews, but of course branch off into other areas. It's interesting for me, right now, to realize that I have no idea what I'll end up talking about out there--every time I do another interview with a consumer here in NYC--and I'll also be interviewing a few industry insiders here in the city, of course--I notice my perspective shift just a little bit. Each time I talk to someone new, my area of interest expands and colors itself just a tad. By the time I get to Vegas, who knows what I'll be talking about.

The idea here is that after these are all over, I will have hours upon hours of video interview footage, which I will cut up and arrange according to topic, then layer with clips from actual porn. I very much like the idea of layering porn footage with audio clips of people discussing pornography; I like the idea of watching other people watching these videos and tracking their levels of arousal--both intellectual and physical. I like the idea of pulling people together in a space to watch porn on its own terms (that's another installation) but to also think about it. Reflect upon it. Find themselves inside a discussion of what it means to be a person in the modern world who deals with pornography in whatever way, realize that we are all in this discussion space together, and the more we talk, the more interesting it gets.

So basically... I'm having a blast, you guys. I hope you'll all come out to the show!

Links-a-Million: Hell is a Drag, Performers are Coming Together, K-Y is Cool, A Cop is Horny, and Porn is the New Punk

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Danny Wylde: Probably the Most Articulate Artist and Porn Star You Know, Part II

The story [of This is Love] is, to put it lightly and succinctly, about sexual obsession. And it feels, to me, very, very real. While I’m totally impressed with your acting talent in some feature movies you’ve been in, I fail to believe that you are that good of an actor. Is this based on a real experience?

At face value, it's very much a work of fiction. In fact, the subject matter is heavily influenced by one of my favorite authors, Dennis Cooper. His characters often have these obsessive desires to know, or understand, their love/lust objects. And those desires take on a very physical/sexual/violent process. So while I've never been non-consensually violent with anyone, I can relate to some of that obsession – particularly in my youth.

As a teenager, I think emotions are amplified. It can feel like the end of the world to fall in love with someone and not be able to really understand them, or get to know them in the way you'd like. So things like death and suicide can seem like very romantic ways to express unattainability. 

These days, I'd say I'm less overwrought. But I still like the idea of belonging to someone, and that person belonging to me. I like to be able to obsess over them when appropriate. And I really like to know that person is completely into me. Obviously (or not), the sexual part of that is a big deal to me.

In your mind, what happens in between the scenes we get to see in this film?

I think the characters go to work, and watch movies, and read books and stuff. The details of their daily life is not that important. I mean, I guess my character might have to stay home every once in a while to physically heal. But I like to think the relationship exists in an otherwise conventional setting.

I think in its omissions and its rawness, this could classify as an art film. And I hear that you’re having trouble selling it through the usual internet channels because it’s pornographic. Do you think you’ll label your next film an “art” film to facilitate selling it?

I have been running into trouble given that it's both pornographic and violent. It seems you need to be either one thing or the other in order to find any real distribution, even on an indie scale.

Right now, I'm just exchanging the video for Amazon.com gift cards.

But I'm not entirely sure what I'll be doing in the future. One idea is to bypass the porn market and just start submitting these types of works to short film festivals. But I'd really like to give people access to them on the Internet.

Film festival audiences are very specific and my audience is already so small. If anyone's going to relate to this stuff, I need to allow access for more than just festival and film buffs.

And speaking of selling it… you’ve decided to go about releasing your film differently than the normal porn distribution channels. Is this a way to deflect piracy?

Yes, it's primarily to deflect piracy.

Do you think other performers could do the same thing with their independent material to protect it? Should they?

I think performers should do whatever they can to deflect piracy. I'm sure a lot of them have better avenues in which to distribute their product than I do. But maybe this could catch on. Who knows?

You’re an outspoken believer in fighting piracy and advocating for the adult industry. In these dire times of free online clips, Cal-OSHA’s interference, anti-porn activism… What do you think the industry can do stick up for itself?

I think the first step is just to speak up in general. Be conscious that you represent a very visible, but somewhat ostracized minority. If you like what you do and want to continue doing it, let people know you work a legitimate job and contribute something to society. You don't have to walk around with a sign attached to your forehead. But people are interested in porn stars, so there are plenty of outlets in which to deflect negative impressions and correct flat-out fallacies. Even if it the mainstream press seems to bury this stuff, the more of it out there, the better.

If you're really interested in sex work activism, there are a number of organizations you can become involved with like the Free Speech Coalition (FSC) and the Sex Workers Outreach Program (SWOP). 

How can it change to make the most of new technology and changes ideas of intellectual property?

Good question. I'm trying to figure this out too.

And yet, while you support the industry vocally and openly, you’re also very candid about your reservations about it: you blog about the fine line between empowerment and degradation and ask other performers about their experiences. It’s kind of surprising that your recalcitrance hasn’t gotten you more negative attention. How do you explain your popularity in the industry and with fans despite your conflicts?

Look, bad stuff goes on in this industry and it's not always a fun job. But I'm pretty sure this is the case with any line of work. Sometimes I get completely jaded and hate my fucking job. Other times, it's the best thing in the world.

My honesty in regards to how I feel about the industry is something I think people can relate to because it is so honest. And at the end of the day, it's not really about the industry, but about how I feel about my own life, how I treat other people, and how they treat each other. The context may be foreign, but the themes of my short stories are something most people can latch on to (I think).

No one can be positive all of the time. I think my audience understands that.

Ok, ok, enough with the long thinky questions. I read on your blog a revelation something similar to one I had on my own recent European vacation: the world isn’t all sex and porn. For us degenerates, it’s important to keep that in mind. So… Tell me something: when you come home at night and are finished with your performing, art films, and super-smart blogging… What do you do with yourself?

I like to read, I like to spend time with my girlfriend, and I like to play music. I actually have a two-man band that I started with fellow performer, Chad Alva. We put some demos up a couple months ago and are working on getting our live show together. It's called Children. You can find some rough demos here: http://www.soundcloud.com/childrenmusic

What have you been reading lately?

I'm reading a novel called 2666 by Roberto Bolano.

Listening to?

My girlfriend has been introducing me to a lot of electronic music lately. One of the better acts I've seen live is a dubstep DJ called Rusko. At home, I've been listening to more minimal techno like Richie Hawtin.

As for the stuff I've discovered on my own, the new Black Dahlia Murder album is frequenting my playlist, as is a short EP by a band called Light Asylum.

Watching?

I recently got back from a vacation, and have been actively staying away from my television. I watched half of a movie called Ex-Drummer the other night, and I plan to finish it soon. But I haven't been watching anything really.

The last show I was really into was Ancient Aliens.

If the porn industry totally collapsed tomorrow, what would you do to make a living? First gut-reaction answer.

I would start bugging my film school friends for any leads in the mainstream world. In all likelihood, I would be a production assistant on some low-budget, Hollywood movie.

What if you won $5 million on the same day that aliens landed and said they’d blow up the planet in two days: what would you do with the money?

Give it away and run into the forest? I don't know. It seems like not enough time to do anything really interesting with that kind of money.

Pop quiz: what movie is that question from?

I honestly have no idea. [Editorial note: It’s from Heathers.]

Ok, ok, I’m done. Any big movies coming our or projects you’re working on I can share with readers?

I'm about to start editing a movie directed by Lily LaBeau and Lou Charmelle that we shot in Ibiza.

There's a music video project that is in the works for my band, though that may take a few months to get off the ground.

I'm still performing in a bunch of pornos. I think there's some stuff coming out through Smitten Kitten sometime soon that was directed by Tristan Taormino. I have a feeling it turned out pretty well.

I also had a small sex role in the upcoming Star Wars XXX parody, which blows my mind in more than one way.

Check out Danny in his own words on his blog, Trve West Coast Fiction, and in his many movies, and his band, and his new film This is Love, and everything!

Danny Wylde: Probably the Most Articulate Artist and Porn Star You Know, Part I

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I've Missed a Lot

Wow, I've been gone for just a week and a half-ish, but I feel like I've missed so much in the world of sex and porn in America! Cal-OSHA is stepping up efforts to impose barrier-only sex in porn, performers are going to Talent Testing for their panels, a gay teen was abducted and sent to "straight camp," and Wiener's been showing his wiener off?? I'm gonna have to hop right back up on this here horny horse of mine! Stay tuned, boys and girls--the schedule is packed full at the moment, but I'll be trying to run to catch up over the next week! Stay with me!

In the meantime, please read Jiz Lee's excellent blog about her take on the barrier debate in CA. They link to other articles on the topic and present a mercifully sane, well-thought-out, and articulate look at a very controversial topic.

Also, check out Violet Blue's reaction to the story of the gay teen abducted, restrained, and sent to a torturous camp for "Troubled Teens"--ie, gay kids. Fucking awful. This needs to be discussed in the mainstream, and hopefully thoroughly condemned.

I don't even care to take part in the hubbub over Weiner's wiener, though, now that I think about it. I could not possibly care less about another politician doing something sexual that goes public. As long as he's not hurting anyone, then who cares?

Interview Excerpts

You lucky, lucky people! I've been conducting interviews like woah lately for several publications, and they have all been GREAT. Sadly, since they're for other publications, it'd be rude of me to reprint them here, but I can offer some excerpts to whet your appetites and wet the in-between-your-legs parts... If you're turned on by super-thinky political porn talk, that is.


First up, from my interview with the indomitable Sophia St. James, a small excerpt from our conversation about queerness and queer porn. The interview in its entirety will appear tomorrow in WHACK! Magazine:

Me: If you had to explain to someone who had never heard of it before, why you identify as queer and what queerness and queer porn mean, what would you say?

Sophia St. James: It’s kind of tricky when it comes to queer porn. And it’s only tricky because everyone has a different definition of what queer means to them. So, for me, being queer means that I’m an equal opportunity lover. I enjoy many different sexualities and many different genders. A lot of times when I explain that to people, they say, “Oh, so you mean you’re bisexual?” But no, “bisexual” means “bi,” which means two, so you’re speaking mainly of your cisgender — or your born-male or born-female — individuals. I take it a step further; I enjoy working with and having lovers that are transgendered, and so it’s not necessarily bisexual. And plus, queer can also, for me, mean that you’ve taken your sexual realm and identity outside of the “societal,” heteronormative views of what sex should be. And so, when it comes to queer porn… Hm.

I explain it the same way, but I also include the diversity piece. For me, queer porn should really be about including everyone in our community and having a representation. I find that when I speak to people, or people e-mail me, or what not, they appreciate queer porn because they see things that… While they may enjoy porn, up until a few years ago, porn hasn’t represented what they enjoy. And so now they can look at porn and see body types that are like theirs, they can see sexual activities that they, too, enjoy and that they can actually get off to, or get enthralled within that porn that they’re watching because it does represent their lifestyle in a sense.


Next up, European filmmaker, winner of numerous awards, and Dusk TV content staple Erika Lust discusses her goals in making erotic films. This interview will appear in full sometime in the next month or so on TheWomansPOV.com:

Me: What specific things about erotic film, sexual politics, and human sexuality do you hope to effect change in?

Erika Lust: Our current society is very permissive. We see sex in every corner: ads, films… but it’s funny how, behind this fake open-mindedness, the female sexuality keeps on being totally repressed and its representation is always oriented towards male appreciation. That’s what I want to change in erotic films: I want to show that woman own their sexuality and should explore it for themselves as a human being, instead of constantly trying to please men, as the media show us every day. I think that answers pretty much all the elements of your question.

Me: You’ve said that you see women as the potential transformers of erotic film. Women seem to me to be the huge, untapped force of the human erotic experience as pertains to film-making. How do you see women bringing about change now and in the future?

Erika Lust: Women are being pressured between retrograde media, mainstream porn and Sex and the City. But women have so much to say that can’t fit in a box. Women need to “undramatise” porn and start making their own: sex is not a men’s thing. More women every day start writing, producing, experimenting with sex behind the camera, and the more do that, the more it will help women get rid of this undiserved sense of shame. Women’s sexuality should not be a joke nor a wrong feminist cliché: it should be natural and enthusiastic, and ready to answer back when we’re called “sluts”. 

Stay tuned, lads and lasses and lovers of all types, I'll have more, from Jennifery Lyon Bell, Martijn Broersma, and  Drew Deveaux tomorrow!

Superheroes, Sex Workers, and Spoils

I woke up today with a pounding headache, nausea, and low grade fever. Since I'm supposed to work all day tomorrow, I'm going to try to take it easy today and postpone my next post about the intricacies of showing consent in porn (a deeper look at the options), in favor of passing on these two INCREDIBLE stories:


1) The New York Initiative is a group of real-life "superheroes" trained in martial arts who are offering their services as vigilantes to sex workers in the New York/Long Island area as a response to the crappy protection the police force here has offered them from The Long Island Serial Killer! This is fucking amazing! I don't want to get too excited here, because I know it's bad form to support a gang of more-or-less thugs taking the law into their own hands... but the Long Island Serial Killer, aka the Craigslist Killer, (seriously? dude needs a better name--or I just have watched too much Dexter and expect "Bay Harbor Butcher" type witticisms now) has mangled far too many sex workers already, and the red tape around sex workers claiming police protection in this state is out of control. So I say more power to the NYI!

They're offering martial arts and improvised weapons training to any and all sex workers who want them, free of charge, as well as their confidential and balls-out protective services. And they're spreading the word: they want everyone to know they're out there protecting the safety and rights of sex workers, insisting, "We respect you as human beings, we believe in personal freedoms and think that you’re doing something that is absolutely your choice to do." Hopefully the message will be spread far and wide and cow the LISK into submission... Or kick the living crap out of him and drag him to a police station. That would be pretty cool, too.

2) Speaking of balls-out-ness and superheroism, I can't even imagine the courage it must have taken to post this blog about how to get through an unpleasant day at work with the least pleasant mental imagery ever. I don't think I could ever admit this kind of thing to anyone, much less the anonymous fathoms of the internet. But Danny Wylde isn't your average porn performer, and he went ahead and said it. Much respect for revealing a side of the industry and of humanity that gets pushed under the rug far too often, Danny. Let's talk.

Cinekink: Fin

Last night was the last night of the NYC Cinekink film festival, which is sad, but it was held at Gallery Bar on Orchard Street, where libations flowed freely, which was good. And the crowd got to watch repeats of some of the winning short films, which was great. Indietro from Vivian Darkbloom won the award for best audience-elected feature, Kink Crusaders from Michael Skiff won the best feature documentary award, Piss from Vincent Peone and Bette Bentley won the best humorous short (seriously, click on that link; you will love it!), Butterfly Caught by Joshua Bewig won best abstract short, Love, Hugs, & Kisses: Sissy Stephanie by Mrs. G took the best documentary short award, and Tristan Taormino's Rough Sex II won the coveted Bring It! award for best porn excerpt. And Cinekink "statuettes" were handed out, and the sissies were in attendance and faaaabulous, and filmmakers and porn performers and the lowly masses like myself mingled, and we saw that it was good. And we said, "Let there be a play party in Brooklyn!" and it was so, and we saw that it was good.

Alas, I did not get to attend the play party, which makes me very sad because I have rarely found a group of people with whom I felt so comfortable and free as the Cinekink crew, which means a play party could have worked out beautifully, but I had another meeting to get to and trotted off through the wind and rain, kisses from Jiz Lee and Drew Deveaux still on my cheeks, free shot from the bartender still burning my throat, umbrella blowing inside out and jacket soaking, and I laughed the whole way.

I'll be back next year, and I hope to see all the same smiling faces I saw this year, and a whole lot of new ones.

Cinekink: Porn Again, Bring It! and Pride & Predelictions

I got to watch this hottness unfold last night at Cinekink. What did you do?

Oh my gosh, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself after Cinekink is over, you guys. I mean, obviously I'm going to write a wrap-up article for the whole week of kinky festivities for WHACK! Magazine, and I'm going to try to get to be best friends with everyone I met there and try to make them all read my blog. But I mean after all that. What will I do?

It's been an incredible experience for me, starting out as I did kind of shy and a little confused about just how one is supposed to behave at a film festival about sex and kink, then getting more comfortable slowly as I began to recognize more faces every night. And letting myself feel right at home by the time I left last night, because I finally realized that here I was, in a room full of--holy moly--like-minded individuals. Of course, everyone comes to an event like Cinekink for his or her own reasons: some love kink, some love film, some love porn, some love sitting in a dark theater and watching sexy movies surrounded by other people... But we all share a commonality: an openness of mind and a desire to share that openness within a community of nonjudgmental adults who find not only erotic stimulation in these films, but mental engagement, too. I've been at porn conventions far too often and felt very little camaraderie there--while everyone at a convention loves porn and supports it (except the ubiquitous Shelley Lubben and XXX Church, of course, and the protesters sometimes hanging around outside), porn conventions are very business-like. People are there to network and to sell things, from sex itself to DVDs to toys to the ideology of commodified sexuality. But at Cinekink, there's no commercial vibe. There's just a bunch of people who love and appreciate sex and sexuality in film and aren't afraid to share that love with others. It's a beautiful thing, and I can't say I've ever felt more at home.

Yesterday's festivities opened with Porn Again!, a discussion panel about ethical porn-making that featured such lusty luminaries as Michael Skiff (director of Kink Crusaders and former gay porn director), Jincey Lumpkin, Esq. (chief sexy officer of Juicy Pink Box), Jiz Lee (duh, the most fabulous genderqueer porn celeb who ever queered), Tristan Taormino (at whose feet I gladly worship for her constantly hotttt and ethical porn), Sarah Forbes of the Museum of Sex here in NYC, Adrianna Nicole (a super intelligent porn performer who is sooo-ooo beautiful in person), and Sinnamon Love (an AVN and Urban X hall of famer and uber smart performer). If the pure porntastic chops on this panel didn't blow me away initially (it did), then the discussion itself would have. The panelists discussed everything from their own personal definitions of ethical porn to their views on condom use in porn to experiences that made them feel great about making porn to the issue of consent on a porn set, and though I'd love to talk in depth about everything they said, that would make this The Longest Blog Post Ever, so I'll refrain.

Suffice it to say that the panelists all seemed to agree on several main points that bear mentioning here. The issue of consent, particularly, merits a mention, as it's such a huge topic and one that enters into every moment and every decision on a porn set--it's been debated a lot recently, from the halls of Congress (John Boehner, you will NEVER live down your opinion that rape is only rape if it involves brute force) to international celebrities (did Julian Assange's actions constitute rape if consent was initially given by his partner [the short answer: YES! but of course it's never that simple... sigh...]) to my own misgivings about how the uninformed public may sometimes misconstrue rough sex porn scenes as nonconsensual without understanding all that goes into filming a scene (ie, explicit, written, spoken, acted, paper-trail-making consent). Tristan's answer to these issues: consent must be determined explicitly before a scene begins and at every juncture during a scene's filming, and it must be conveyed in no uncertain terms to the viewer to avoid any misunderstanding. Kink.com, she says, does the same thing by showing the before-and-after of a kink scene, when the performers are chummy and smiling. For Adrianna and Sinnamon and Jiz, consent constitutes performer choice in partner (s), flexibility in what acts to perform when, and being able to rework a scene when something is just not working according to plan. To Sinnamon, especially, and to Tristan, chemistry between performers is a huge part of what makes ethical porn ethical: "taking one for the team" when it means putting oneself, body and mind, through something one does not want to do because a director says you must, is the definition of unethical. Ethical porn involves valuing the performers and crew, respecting their desires and needs, and treating them as integral to the scenes they perform rather than a throwaway widget that's easily replaceable, said Tristan. Jiz thought that portraying the desire to maintain everyone's sexual health, whether it be through barrier use or explicitly portraying their consent, is crucial.

I think that the panel did a good job of portraying to the audience the concerns and triumphs of ethical porn makers, and possibly bringing to light a lot of the little-seen and badly-understood aspects of making porn. For the average consumer--I cannot say this enough--what you see in a porn scene is what you get, and while the overall idea that porn is fantasy and nothing more is prevalent in today's consumer base, that does not always translate itself into an understanding of what goes into filming a scene. Rough sex, S&M, power exchanges and play, and any number of other things that go into a scene can be taken at face value by those who want to see things that way, and it is of vital importance for the continued health of the porn industry, in the face of constant attacks from the likes of Gail Dines, the AIDS Healthcare Foundation, government interference, and general anti-porn sentiment, that the inner workings of what has long been a mysterious industry be more discussed and understood. I believer, personally, that Tristan's approach of filming the mechanations of consent and showing them as part of the movie is a huge leap forward. It's a lot more difficult for the Shelley Lubbens of the world to tell us that all women in porn are being raped when there's footage of them sitting around with the men about to run a train on them, discussing their boundaries and desires in clear, sober, and honest terms. And it's going to be more difficult for people to watch rough sex scenes involving choking and slapping and think that the performer is being taken advantage of when, like Jiz Lee, she finishes her scene by ejaculating all over her costar's face... by her own hand.

When the next section of the evening, a series of excerpts from a wide variety of porn films, "Bring It!" started, I was feeling so positive about porn that nothing could have brought me down except maybe some JM Productions scenes, but I needn't have worried. Starting off with an all-girl threeway from from Artcore featuring Kelly Shibari, Courntey Trouble, and April FLores; moving through an INTENSELY hot, playful, female ejaculate-soaked scene from Billy Castro Does the Mission featuring Billy Castro and Jiz Lee; a rather monotonous but snarky public-sex scene from Chloe's Column: Fuck Fame from Joybear; a white-hot threeway between director Kimberly Kane and fantastically fuckable bi male stars Wolf Hudson and Danny Wylde that brought blowbang to a whole new, female-empowering level from My Own master; a super-kinky, very hairy, very dyke-tastic outdoor montage from Return of the Post-Apocalyptic Cowgirls; and a somehow hilarious yet incredibly jerk-off-able scene from Tristan Taormino's Rough Sex II starring Sinnamon Love.

I have to admit, watching a whole lot of porn on a huge screen surrounded by other people was an interesting experience. For me, it wasn't oh so very intense, given that I'm pretty much desensitized to watching porn by now. But then again, the smorgasbord of sexual preferences and acts, body types and gender identifications, genitals and proclivities, was so vast, and the material presented so unrelentingly hot, that I definitely felt a few tingles from down below. I can only imagine how the less-pornified among the audience felt during the darkened time in the theater watching the hugely magnified genitals parade across the screen, engorged and aroused. And yet, when the lights came back up, I didn't see anyone mopping up their laps or sitting down longer than necessary to hide erections. I didn't see anyone flushed and hyperventilating. To the contrary, the house was full of excited chatter about voting and smiling faces: I think we all shared a sense of exhilarated freedom at being about having just watched a bunch of explicit sex in public without sticky floors, suspicious looks, or any kind of judgment at all. It was beautiful.

The evening rounded out (I left early; exhausted after so much sexy viewing) with "Pride and Predilections," a series of shorts exploring sexual preference, identity, and expression that boasted a rich and wildly entertaining variety of films, and also the biggest word as a title for a segment of the entire festival. I learned about the wallet chain as a statement of lesbian pride in Chained!, and for the first time ever heard my new favorite niche of sexuality: "Dapper Dyke." If I ever get over my tendency toward men, I am SO becoming a Dapper Dyke. Suspenders, chivalry, good manners, great hair cuts, and wallet chains? I am sooo jealous. Too bad "bisexual" and "queer" (two terms between which I currently find myself vacillating) don't start with "D." Cause "Dapper" is just such a great word.

I also re-examined my relationship with turkey basters with Baby Cake, cracked up over one man's determination to place himself on the Kinsey Scale in Gay Keith, marveled at the richness if imagery in fantasy and the simultaneous simplicity of reality in Butterfly Caught, almost peed my pants while enjoying some girl-on-girl action and overt exploitation of somnambulation in Turning Japanese, almost crying with empathy and then joy in Freak, and finding out a whole lot more about Cinekink's resident sissy and ticket-taker, Sissy Stephanie, in Love, Hugs & Kisses, Sissy Stephanie. I've already written too much to warrant a minute examination of each film, so I'm providing links where possible.

Now I'm off to the awards ceremony! We'll see which films the audience and selected jurors liked best and applaud the efforts of all the film-makers whose hard work we saw over the course of the festival... and get drunk. Tune in tomorrow for a wrap-up, and find your way to WHACK! Magaizne on Wednesdsay for hopefully-less-lengthy writeup of the entire event.

Cinekink: Adventures in the Skin Trade; Lust, Love, Life; and CAGED

From Life, Love, Lust by Erika Lust.

Last night was a long one at the NYC Cinekink film festival: I arrived at about 6:30 pm and left at 1:30 am. But, you know, it was worth it.

Last night's screenings included a series of shorts under the heading "Adventures in the Skin Trade," featuring everything from hilarious narrative shorts to super-thinky protest documentaries to hardcore porn, another series of shorts called "Lust, Love, Life," which explored sexy and sometimes spooky erotica, and Caged, a film from the brilliant brain of Stephan Brenninkmeijer of the Netherlands that explored sexual agency and punishment.

I found almost all of the 14 films I took in yesterday fascinating, and I'm going back for more! Today will feature a panel of porn directors, performers, and producers, and at least one museum curator (Tristan Taormino! Jiz Lee! Sarah Forbes) at 3:15, and then a whole lotta porny goodness after that. I can't wait!

But before I head back downtown for more of the good stuff, I've been thinking about how to phrase the following. It might be clunky, as I got home around 3:00 am and am still a bit fuzzy even after my coffee, so bear with me.

I'm finding, through the discussions of sex and sex work and porn and all the in-betweens both in the films and in the discussions of the films, and even at the Red Umbrella Diaries Thursday night, that there seems to be an overarching sense of freedom in exploring sexual themes that much of society deems aberrant. I've heard these sentiments before, in interviews with porn stars and other sex workers, and they made sense to me, but being surrounded by people whose lives are spent exploring the sides of themselves that the world tries to ignore for the past few days has really plunged me into the idea and made me consider in a very real way.

Syd Blakovich told me in an interview for TheWomansPOV.com that, "Casting aside the social constraints in one's life can be an insanely liberating process and really frees up one's approaches to the rest of life." Richard Berkowitz told us that he decided, after becoming a gigolo, to "have the time of his life" being both a queer and a whore, because he had nothing left to lose or cling on to from the normal side of life. Last night's screening of Bucking the System, a documentary about Buck Angel, "the man with a pussy," highlighted that after having struggled his whole life to become a man in body as well as in mind and deciding to keep his female plumbing and love his vagina, Buck Angel is very much at peace with himself. Having lived through years of adulthood torn between his mentality and physicality, and deciding to throw all societally-expected caution to the wind to become who he really wanted to be seems to have given him a glow, a peace, a comfort with himself that few of us who struggle every day to reconcile ourselves with the world can understand. In Caged, the main character Stella tells her therapist that she decided one night to stop being miserable and go after her desires: "I became a flower, and every day I bloom wider.... Every day, my body celebrates." The sex workers that Julianne Carroll interviewed for Sex Workers: Your Voice Counts, the actors portraying sex workers in Hooka Face and the Virgin Boy, and the actors showing it all off in Choices, Wiggle Room, Fucking is the Only Prayer, and Erika Lust's absolutely gorgeous Life, Love, Lust, all seemed free in a way that I found hard not to envy.

As a person who's made something of a "thing" out of being conflicted about my involvement in the sex industry, even existing as I do on the periphery of it, I spend my days torn between absolute wonder at the beauty and depth of sex, sexual imagery, and sexual experience, and deeply rooted, deeply entrenched shame. These days, I find the shame isn't as powerful as it once was, but it still creeps up on me from time to time and makes me question what I'm doing. Late at night, my mother's voice creeps into my head and asks why I can't be writing about something more acceptable. Something important. I always tell her, as calmly as I can, that there is nothing more important in this world than trying to help people navigate their own chasms of conflict between what they want and desire and what they've been told is ok. We are a divided society, I tell her, and we are schizophrenic because of it. But still, that feeling, that understanding that even though lots of people are involved in the fight against this schizophrenia and that we are fighting the good fight, is always tinged with fear because I know that there are lots more people who don't want to hear it. Ignoring these things has always been easier for most than it's been for me. And I lie awake and worry that I'm walking down a path I can never walk away from because after this, I'll be labeled. Ruined.

But watching Buck Angel and Drew Deveaux and Audacia Ray and so many other brave, actually fearless souls this week so far has made me take courage. These people have burst through their fears and second-guessing, thrown caution to the wind like so much streaming fabric in Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, and leapt over that chasm into the uncharted territory that so few report back from. They do report back, and they are free in a way that I have never yet allowed myself to be. They have stopped wondering if people are judging them, because once you get past a certain point the judgment is part of the game, and it ceases to matter. They have stopped caring so much if what they're doing is seen as right or wrong, because it's done, and it's over, and past the point of no return there is a vast, open, no less frightening but certainly less constricting wilderness where they can be pioneers, explorers, and, more importantly, whoever they want to be.

I'm thinking about jumping in, myself.

The Red Umbrella Diaires: No Justice, No Piece (...of ass)

Last night I took a break from the Cinekink film festival to attend the Red Umbrella Diaries, a sex-worker and activist storytelling event run by the Red Umbrella Project, at Happy Ending on Broome Street. I had no idea what to expect from an evening of stories told by sex workers and former sex workers, and as such had little option but to be delighted by what I got!

The event, held the first Thursday of every month and organized by Audacia Ray, sex worker rights activist, formerly of $pread Magtazine, and a former sex worker herself, is a chance for those who work in the sex industry, or simply care about the stories of those who do, to get together, have a few drinks (15% of the proceeds from which go to help fund The Red Umbrella Project and Speak Up!), and generally inhabit a safe and friendly place together.

Last night (which, by the way, was International Sex Workers' Rights Day! Woot!), while my girlfriend and I got pleasantly sloshed on the expensive but absolutely delicious Lychee Martinis that Happy Ending is known for, we were treated to a readings by Richard Berkowitz, author of The Invention of Safe Sex and a sex worker and activist since the early 80's. He read part of his book about his entry into sex work in 1980. In Barney's one day, he suddenly realized that he was walking a fine and exciting line on the wrong side of the tracks: "For a man, the worst thing to be is a queer," he read. "For a woman, the worst thing to be is a whore." Now that he was both, he figured, he might as well enjoy it. Have the time of his life at it. Throw away all the fears he'd been living with his whole life and just go with it; after all, what did he have to lose? As it turned out, he had everything to lose, since the AIDS explosion was jut around the corner. He's gone on to become a well-known activist and author, and one of the leaders in the safe sex movement in the 1980's, when AIDS was devastating the gay population.

Following Richard, Melissa Ditmore, a sex worker awareness activist and writer, read a passage from her essay on the 1942 Sex Workers' Strike in Honolulu. I'd never heard about this little piece of wartime history before, but I was tickled to learn that after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, part of the war effort in Hawaii became the liberalization of brothels outside the massive military bases in Honolulu. Brothels and military bases, of course, go hand in hand, because the military believes strongly that "A man who can't fuck won't fight." The military during WWII saw the presence of prostitutes as integral to keeping up the morale of the men they were training to send overseas, and when martial law was declared in the US, Honolulu became a bastion for the freedom and fair treatment of prostitutes, who had been treated as less than human before. They'd not been allowed to go to most public beaches, any bar or nice restaurant, or to live anywhere outside of Honolulu's red light district. They were not permitted to own property or land, or even a car. But when the military, who valued their bedroom services and the temporary roles they'd played as triage nurses after the Pearl Harbor attack, took over, these rules and regulations were lifted. The prostitutes were free at last to be real people, and they took full advantage of their personhood. During martial law, local law enforcement frequently clashed with the military police over issues of prostitutes' rights, but the military had the final say... until regular law was reinstated, at which point, of course, the local government cracked back down on the prostitutes. These whores, of course, couldn't continue to be allowed to roam around free like respectable citizens! They were expected to return to the red light district, heads lowered, and start paying off the local police to leave them alone as they had before.
But the prostitutes, now that they'd had a taste of what being an American is supposed to really mean, were having none of it. For 22 days in 1942, hordes of hookers ran picket lines and refused to go back to work until their basic rights and freedoms were returned to them. A gaggle of prostitutes, complete with posters and chants--and, no doubt, their shameful lady bits under their skirts! scandalous!--struck for almost a month until at last the local law enforcement gave way and ceded them some of their rights.
I was floored by this story. How fucking fantastic! Can you imagine? In 1942, a bunch of hookers forcing their government to give them their rights back, much to the chagrin of the locals, I'm sure. But I bet the troops were laughing themselves silly the whole time.

At any rate, after a short break, Drew Deveaux, queer porn star of the most highly educated and articulate... and sexy... variety, took the mic and spoke to the crowd about her experience with queer porn and mainstream porn. As a trans woman, she told us, she can't see that being an activist and being a trans person can be separated. As a post-op sex worker, she says, she sees the life of privilege she leads every day and is so thankful that she can be who she is. As a woman, she can fly "under the radar" and get herself onto mainstream sets and everyday gatherings without raising any eyebrows: "seduction as activism," she calls it. There was so much in what Drew spoke about that I dare not try to rewrite it here, but do stay tuned: I will be interviewing her tonight or tomorrow and publishing the results on TheWomansPOV.com sometime next month!

Overall, I was interested to hear a theme emerging from the night's presenters: sex work and activism are not separate things. Until legalization and/or less discrimination happens... and that will be a long time in this country... being a sex worker and being an activist are two almost indistinct parts of being a human with respect for one's body. In America, where sex workers are denied the right to their living and whose bodies are seen as public, criminal, property, the very act of using one's body as one decides to and making money from doing so is an exercise in activism, no matter what the situation. To disobey the law and do so in an empowered and conscious way: what else could this be but activism? Civil disobedience is an integral part of American life; it has forced change where nothing else could for so many things in our history. So to the prostitutes who work outside of legal Nevada brothels, I salute you for being brave and doing what others are scared to do. For owning your sex and using it to your advantage and with the knowledge that you are existing outside the boundaries of an unjust legal system... and moral system. Keep acting. Keep fucking! Keep rocking!

In the meantime, I'm going to keep attending the Red Umbrella Diaries events, because those Lychee Martinis are fantastic, and because being in such a happy, accepting space is a great way to spend a Thursday night. Next month, on April 7, the theme will be "Boom and Bust." See you there!

Christmas Travel Blog

A few MORE notes:

1) The Red Dwarf set did not enter into last night's peace-vibe-making. My own living room, however, is quite hot to have all manner of crazy sex in.

2) I'm now on a train. I've been working on several longer blog entries for you all to read over your long post-Christmas recuperation periods (I'm sure you'll be delighted by them, as they encompass how to become a male porn star and how much I hate humanity... as it relates to porn), and in so doing, I've been reading up on some of my other favorite porn- and sex-related blogs, like Violet Blue's excellent "Open Source Sex." I recommend that you do the same. But, be warned, DO NOT DO IT ON A TRAIN where the people walking by can SEE your computer screen. I'm pretty sure the images of boobs and tied-up, gagged ladies with boobs parading across my laptop screen did not make me any friends among the ranks of those debarking the train at Paoli, PA.

3) It's supposed to snow tomorrow! On CHRISTMAS! Aaaaaack childhood Christmas nostalgia head-explody!