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Archive for the ‘violence’ Category

Once upon a time in the eighties I read a story in Cosmo about a woman who got stuck on a plane sitting next to a guy who whipped out a porn magazine in flight, putting her in a Very Uncomfortable Position.

There was a pretty good piece in The Washington Post about the same thing happening with porn on mobile devices (stupid WP makes you have a login to read, sorry). Normally most coverage of publicly-consumed porn is really biased and weird, but they did an okay job of it: TECHNOLOGY INCREASES CHANCES TO SEE PORN IN PUBLIC.

Listen. I will defend every adult’s right to buy porn, to make porn, and to think whatever taboo sexual thoughts they want, but when you shove it into someone else’s face, you’re sexually assaulting them. You are forcing them to engage in a sexual encounter with you and your fucking porn without their consent. Is it to the same degree as actually jacking off on them on a plane or frottaging(sp?) them on a train or taking your own dick out and shaking it at them? Of course not (and I totally understand FANTASIZING about doing all of those things or FANTASIZING about those things happening to you), but I personally would press charges against someone who did that next to me. It’s unacceptable.

Of course, I say these things having been resentful at times when I wanted to pull up a NSFW blog or my own site when we’ve been on the road and in internet cafes and had to limit myself or do a lot of alt+tabbing, but that’s a far cry from the guy in the story who started watching hardcore, audible porn with not only the woman right next to him, but HER KIDS, too. The thought of it honestly makes my blood boil and my imagination to immediately go to a place in my head where I’m kicking this man’s teeth in and beating him about the head with his fucking laptop.

The shocking part to me is how many people (let’s face it, mostly MEN) think they’re entitled to publicly entertain their dicks wherever and whenever they want. How can you POSSIBLY think that’s okay? AND WHY ARE THEY GETTING AWAY WITH IT? Frankly I think we’re all obligated to publicly humiliate (to an extent that goes beyond what some of them are probably after in the first place) and legally dog these idiots.

Is there a grey area where I’d be more forgiving? Yeah. I know sometimes when you’re rowdy with another person at dinner or something you might flash some pictures on your cell phone at your buddy and someone might see it from a distance, but when your bubble is touching a stranger’s bubble either physically or audibly, you just do NOT insert sex into said stranger’s bubble. If you’re many seats away from anybody and nobody can HEAR your porn, I think that’s less of a big deal. If you make a valiant effort to hide it when someone approaches, I think that’s okay. And personally I wouldn’t care if someone masturbated next to me on a plane as long as they didn’t expose themselves or touch me or make eye contact with me and they did their best to hide it.

I think that I’ve masturbated under a blanket on a plane just to relax so I don’t know . . . maybe I’m drawing my lines in very subjective ways. I know I’ve had conversations in restaurants that were really graphic, loud, and could easily have made people uncomfortable but I think I’ve never done that with kids around. I hope not, anyway. Plus, I *love* listening to other people have conversations like that. UNLESS it’s guys talking trash about women or anybody calling people names. I have been known to ream people out for that. But it’s still different to talk about a sexual encounter and have people overhear you than start HAVING a sexual encounter with your porn and force people near you to have it with you, whether you intend to or not. And when your loud conversation disparages and insults people it’s kind of the same thing; you’ve drawn total strangers into your bullshit in a hurtful way.

I’ve also been known to have very noisy sex in apartments and not been modest at all about closing curtains when I’m naked or fucking in my own home to the point where I’ve been chastised by property managers and I don’t think people should have to be quiet in the summer when they’re fucking with the windows open to let in cool air at night (god, I love that sound). But I still think that’s different — there are walls, even though they’re penetrable and rendered mostly symbolic, that symbolism is something every civilized person should be able to recognize that establishes distance and literally marks the boundaries of what’s inside and private and what’s out. It’s an entirely different thing, however, if you stand in your window or  your yard making eye contact with schoolgirls as you’re masturbating. That is ENGAGING people and forcing them to participate in your scene. NOT OKAY. Same with listening to loud extreme porn where a neighbor or passerby could hear the sounds of people in pain or engaging in kinky roleplays (I wish I could find the link to a story about someone calling the police on his neighbor because it sounded like he was raping/killing a woman when in actuality he was “just” watching violent porn for hours at high volume). On the other hand, I think it’s perfectly allright for people to masturbate in their cars on their lunch breaks or whatever, with or without porn, as long as they’re not standing up through their sunroof and ejaculating on their windshield or making whatever they’re doing and/or watching visible to people close by.

Then of course I have to admit I’ve exposed myself in public places, mostly for pictures but sometimes just for the pure fun of it. Again, I’m worried that I have a double standard even though I’m 99% *convinced* that when I’ve done it it was DIFFERENT . . . safe and wholesome even when sexually suggestive. Somehow I just don’t believe a nude Trixie is threatening or dangerous or harmful, and I especially don’t think anything is “assault” if you are in a park or something but attempting to be discreet and someone stumbles upon you. If you’re lurking in some bushes, though, waiting for an unsuspecting victim to come along so you can expose yourself to them, then THAT is fucked up. I have masturbated in a library, but I didn’t *want* to be caught, so that makes it okay, right? I mean, I would have been mortified if I’d gotten caught! But for some reason I feel perfectly content telling everyone about it, even my friends only an hour after the fact.

So what about the way I have explicit nudity and sometimes sex acts on the front page of some of my sites (like this blog) without a warning page? Is that just as bad? Of course, I still think that’s different. Is it just because it’s ME and what I want to do? I don’t think so. People who don’t want to see porn can block my sites and I have also added metatags to make it easy for my pages to be identified as adult. Also, I’m not SITTING DOWN next to strangers in public places and making them watch and listen to movies of me masturbating and fucking. Anyone who sees me online still has the control to close their browser.

Then again, I’ve taken my top off on a hot day when driving in heavy traffic. I still had my bra on, but I *so* wanted to take it off and felt very irritated that I could get in trouble for that. I still do. I don’t know how anyone could have a problem with rush hour boobs. Or rush hour masturbating. Just don’t LEER at people, you know?

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The whole time I’ve been writing this, comparing these different scenarios, I’ve been torn. I want to be honest with myself and challenge myself to think critically about whether or not my boundaries and judgments are consistent, correct and safe BUT I wonder if by doing that publicly, I’m letting everyone off the hook and confusing issues that are actually very clear.

I could mull this over all night, about how it’s different to shove sex in someone’s unwilling face in a confined space versus being off-trail in a state park giving a pal a handjob when someone stumbles upon you and you quickly try to cover up and the other people are easily able to turn around and go the other way. I could sit here and list all of the reasons why it’s BEYOND inconsiderate to make other people watch/listen to porn (and why it’s especially wrong, I’m afraid to admit [and simultaneously uncomfortable with my hesitation to boldly say], when a MAN does this to a WOMAN and/or kids).

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Confession: some of the phone sex calls I’ve taken and gotten off to hardest were from guys with this “problem”, or who at least fantasized about acting on those urges. Guys jerking off in their apartments watching the girls walk home from school in short skirts. Guys jacking off in the parking lot and exposing themselves to their coworkers and other ladies just trying to drive away. Guys sitting in internet cafes with hardons.  I mean, pretty much all of the stuff I get off to hardest is taboo stuff I’d never want to happen in real life.

So how do I feel (almost) completely comfortable saying that if I caught somebody doing these things in real life I’d kick in their teeth, BUT when someone confesses it to me on the phone I just coyly call them naughty, FEIGN shock and disgust, and furiously masturbate myself to orgasm?

I don’t think I’m (a big) part of the problem, but I know a lot of people would beg to differ.

*****

The Washington Post article kind of blows off this behavior as just “too much information” or “socially inappropriate” or shaped by our mobile device culture making people self-absorbed, inconsiderate shitholes (TRUE), but I still think it’s much more sinister and criminal than that in ways that the men MIGHT not get (or totally DO get and that’s part of the thrill). And fuck if I have the patience to explain it right now. Let me know if you want me to, though, and/or if you have some links to people who already have and/or if you want to take a stab at it yourself.

It boggles my mind how I can peck out this many words and still leave so many dangerous gaps.

While other women are out shopping for bargains today, we’re staying home to masturbate on cam. Yes, I planned it that way deliberately to target the men in the states who stay home jacking off to internet porn while the wimmin-folk are out in the malls blowing money.

I’m sure many of those women would call me evil, exploiting the Thanksgiving holiday for profit by appealing to people’s “base” instincts. Leading their men-folk astray and causing them to cyber-cheat while their loving wives are out dutifully blowing wads of dough.

Can you tell I think that’s all a crock of shit? The way the chaste and moral crowd points their fingers at whores like me while they’re out TRAMPLING PEOPLE TO DEATH for Black Friday bargains?

A worker died after being trampled and a woman miscarried when hundreds of shoppers smashed through the doors of a Long Island Wal-Mart Friday morning, witnesses said.

The unidentified worker, employed as an overnight stock clerk, tried to hold back the unruly crowds just after the Valley Stream store opened at 5 a.m.

Witnesses said the surging throngs of shoppers knocked the man down. He fell and was stepped on. As he gasped for air, shoppers ran over and around him.

As far as I know, no one has ever had a miscarriage watching porn, so take THAT family values!

I break out into a cold sweat whenever I hear about and imagine crowds-gone-wild; all of those sports arena horror stories and such make me crap my pants; I am deathly afraid of the mob, of our basest, wild-eyed instincts stomping the fuck out of each other. Of having the breath crushed out of me.

We were watching one of those MOST SHOCKING CRAZY-ASS THINGS CAUGHT ON VIDEO shows the other night showing a riot in Vancouver after a hockey game; people running amok, setting shit on fire, overturning cop cars, smashing into storefronts, etc. It’s just bizarre to me that people are so scared by PORN and do so much to try to censor it out of existence, but no one ever says we should stop allowing mass-attendance at sporting events, or we should ban sports all together. It’s a stupid proposal, I guess, but one that makes WAY MORE SENSE than getting rid of porn or continuing all the lame-ass crackdowns on sex work in general.

People are fucking insane, especially when they’re in large groups where they feel no personal responsibility for the damage that can be done by the mad power of the unstoppable horde.

On that note, I must now prepare myself for the unruly, anonymous crowds that might attend my webcam show in a couple of hours. But no matter how badly they behave, it couldn’t possibly be as unpleasant as SHOPPING today.

Thanks to Delia for the heads up on today’s trampling death.

Yesterday I walked across a field with my eyes closed. After the heavy grounded feeling of walking in wet sand for almost an hour, walking blind on hard-packed dirt with sunburned grass felt like flying with the wind in my face, blowing my hair around. Or floating, at least. The only other people in the field were three black-robed figures sparring with each other using long sticks. With my eyes closed they sounded like three people playing football. The field was so big it was easy for me to avoid walking into them even without the benefit of sight.

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We’ve been having some private stress around here (on top of the published stress of trying over and over again to get pregnant) so yesterday Delia canceled her show and we *finally* went to see The Dark Knight. I wasn’t nearly as excited going into it as I was Batman Begins and didn’t feel the same attachment to this one, maybe because I preferred the more solitary focus on Bruce Wayne in Batman Begins and the whole emphasis on creating and finding an alter ego for himself. The imagery in Batman Begins was also darker and more appealing to me in a sort of Robert Louis Stevenson way than Dark Knight, which everyone keeps describing as “darker” than BB but really was just more hideous, brutal and scary. Yeah, the humour was darker and everything felt more tragic because of Heath Ledger’s potent brilliance, but that diverted so much attention from Christian Bale that it wasn’t really about Batman or anybody except for Heath Ledger’s Joker. Oh yeah, I do love the whole commentary on human nature being a dual thing of dark and light, I’m just saying that it didn’t speak to me on a deeply personal level the way Batman Begins did.

As I get older, it’s harder and harder for me to watch movies without being bored and annoyed by what seems like derivations from other movies I think are “better” or strike me as more original just because *I* happened to see them when I was younger and was first introduced to certain themes. There were a lot of familiar elements in The Dark Knight, but it really was awesome enough that it didn’t annoy me, especially since I recognize that there are *no* original ideas (plus, having no familiarity with comics or specialized movie knowledge I KNOW I’m completely ignorant of where some of these things “originated”). I felt like I recognized stuff from In the Line of Fire and freaky cross-dressing a la Silence of the Lambs. Since I know nothing of the comics and never even saw Jack Nicholson’s Joker, I couldn’t help totally associating the smile/scar with the Black Dahlia, especially since I just picked up another book (with the ghastly pictures) about the case.

Anyway, I loved the magic trick with the pencil and lines like “whatever doesn’t kill you simply makes you… stranger.” Favorites aside from Heath’s performance? Maggie Gyllenhaal’s Rachel Dawes was SO much better than Katie’s — LOVED her, and the chase scene/shootout with the semis. We also loved the political commentary on whether or not the threat of terrorism justifies spying on people, etc. Still, I don’t feel compelled to see this one more than that once in the theater (unless we could see it in IMAX). I really wasn’t prepared for the violence, and of course it always annoys me when there’s no swearing in a movie but there’s plenty of freaky brutality (I could not hack the part at the end when the dogs and Batman were being beaten with the pipe) and it gets less than an R rating; just having the knowledge in my head that our government is prosecuting people for “obscenity” even for just writing taboo stories and that they refuse to let COPA die makes me resentful when I see how violence in movies is embraced in America as totally acceptable for young people to watch. I can’t watch this stuff without thinking, “so THIS is okay for thirteen year olds to see but the sight of my clitoris will scar them for life?” Whatever. It’s not that I want kids to see porn or that I don’t appreciate a movie without swearing or that I think violent movies should be boycotted, it’s the nonsensical double standards that drive me up a wall.

So does Christian Bale’s alleged assault of his mom and sister ruin my appreciation of his acting? Ummm, no. Just like a president cheating on his wife has absolutely zero to do with whether or not he’s a good president, whether or not Marky Mark is a homophobe or a racist has nothing to do with my enjoyment when I watch Boogie Nights or Entourage and I still think PYT is a fucking awesome song whether or not Michael Jackson is a pedo. Given the rant I just made, it probably surprises you to hear that I don’t relate to people who can’t enjoy a celebrity’s work because of their crimes and supposed personal flaws (which may or may not be true, but we will never know). It’s not that I don’t enjoy juicy gossip about famous people, but it’s just another form of entertainment to me that is separate from whether or not I enjoy their actual work. Like, is it really a surprise to Christian Bale’s fans that he’s a freak? The guy wanted to starve himself to 100 pounds only eating an apple and can of tuna a day for The Machinist; were you really not aware that he’s fucking mental? Apparently, because I’ve been reading whining from women who think they can’t adore him anymore. YOU ARE WATCHING HIS MOVIES, NOT DATING HIM!

So yeah . . . sometimes I can separate things. Other times? Not so much.

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In addition to taking the night off for a movie, I also made emergency reservations for a three night stay at the beach next week, so our Sunday, August 10th and Monday, August 11th shows will be canceled. We will do some shooting while we’re there, but mostly we just need to get away. Yes, we have a beach here, but Puget Sound and the Strait aren’t the same as the actual ocean. I didn’t know it until Delia told me, but the timing is perfect because we’ll be out there for the meteor shower. She also just happened to order some things from REI before we made these plans so it all fell into place perfectly since the days I happened to find open rooms and camping spots weren’t my first pick before I knew these things, but just happened to be after the REI stuff will arrive and during the meteor shower.

Sometimes the shit I hear and see in the porn world just makes me want to vomit. Case in point, going into the chatroom for one of my live shows last night and seeing someone who nicknamed himself “RapeBuildsCharacter”. Naturally I banned his ass immediately, but knowing you have an hour to act all “sexy” for an audience of people that include him (because banning only removes him from the chatroom, it doesn’t stop him from viewing the show) can be a challenge OR give you the feeling that you’re involved in something totally sociopathic, and that you must be sick yourself to be able to ignore the presence of such stupid malevolence.

Half an hour later, just as I was still chatting but preparing to masturbate, someone pecked out in the chatroom, “I’d like to punch her right in the mouth”. And then everyone wants to know how “wet” I get in these shows. With that kind of bullshit (and usually a lot less evil, but more persistent and annoying comments) the only kind of lubrication I produce during group shows is synthetic, and is squirted on me and my toys from a bottle. It’s actually a small miracle I’m able to orgasm during these performances at all (and that miracle is delivered by a god named Hitachi).

Speaking of lube, last night I watched part of the E! True Hollywood Story of Jenna Jameson. While I found her slightly more interesting and eloquent than a few other media darlings (that mouth breather Scarlett Johansson, for example) I turned the show off in disgust when they started remarking on all she’s done to educate people on female sexuality. I almost ripped my ears off at that point to stop the auditory assault but before I could do that, there she was, proudly providing an example of her brilliant porn star lovemaking secrets, “I tell ladies not to use lube; use SPIT instead!”

Wow. Thanks for all you’ve done to benefit the “ladies” of the world. We’re all deeply indebted to you. Next time I take my boyfriend’s pole up my ass I’ll make sure he haucks a big phlegm-filled loogie on my butthole to ease his entry lest I make the amateurish mistake of utilizing a pleasant task-specific product like synthetic lubrication. This is really going to improve my sex life: USE SPIT. Maybe I should also make sure to get a set of long dagger-like bacteria-harboring acrylic nails before the next time I fingerbang a girl or myself? Yeah! Smart!! And I’ll make sure that whoever is spitting on me wears garishly-overdone lipstick so I can more thoroughly enjoy the grotesque spitting-clown performance. Oooh, my female sexual intelligence is skyrocketing thanks to these brilliant suggestions and inspiring images! It was all too mind-blowing for me, so I had to turn the television off before my horizons expanded too far for my puny eyes to fathom.

I hope this doesn’t make me sound as evil and whore-hating as those people in my chatroom last night, because honestly I’m happy for her success and . . . whatever (even though the show informed me that she’s NOT a whore . . . she’s a BUSINESS-WOMAN; color me confused, because I thought whoring IS a business). But I had to laugh when I logged into her webmaster program to get the link code for her site (because no way am I sending people to her site without the possibility of scoring some dough for myself) and I read that SHE SOLD OUT TO PLAYBOY. Yes, after all that bullshit jive talk about how she owns her own brand and about how she’s such a savvy in-control businesswoman, I read that she sold the internet empire (her husband) built to Playboy. Whatever. I’m sure she’s to be congratulated for this sale, but it doesn’t mesh with the hype and image she tried to project, at least on the show I watched last night. I don’t follow all of the hoopla surrounding her, but I suppose this probably has to do with her whole “Jenna Loves Babies” campaign for motherhood or whatever. Way to stay in control, girl! What an inspiration!

Warning . . . I won’t be publishing any comments of the “you’re just jealous, Trixie and it’s so ugly on you!” variety.

Oh, and I should mention that I’ve nothing against using spit as lube in a pinch or when just a wee dab of moisture is desired, the problem I have is with someone advising AGAINST using lube as though spit is a superior form of lubrication when it IS NOT.

I’m exhausted by last night’s nightmares, the most vivid a variation on a recurring theme of me having to stab someone to death.

I was a black woman with a child, and a black ex-cop was teaching me how to protect myself from rape and/or murder. I didn’t trust him; he seemed misguided. He demonstrated how to hitchhike safely. A semi pulled over for us in the dark where my car broke down and the cop told us to wait and make the driver get out of the cab to approach us, rather than immediately climbing into the cab ourselves.

The driver welcomed us and I got in the truck, leaving the cop behind and as soon as the door slammed I knew I was in trouble. The driver looked like Chris Cooper’s character, John LaRoche, in Adaptation. He had a son in the sleeper. As soon as we started rolling, the driver started talking about filthy niggers and coons, looking at me all the time to see how I would respond, making sure I was adequately frightened. By this time I think my own child had disappeared, and I was more aware of the driver’s son, disturbed the man would speak this way in front of his child.

The driver made it clear he hated anyone who wasn’t white and was driving me somewhere to rid the planet of my presence. We wound up somewhere desolate, he pulled out a knife and came at me. We fought, he stabbed me, but the really violent freaky parts in dreams like this are when I gain a little advantage and I know I have to kill the person. It is EXTREMELY VIVID. I got his knife and stabbed him. Repeatedly. He just wouldn’t die, so (as usual in these dreams) I just kept reminding myself to press on, not quit, to try not to be bothered by the feeling of forcing the blade through bone, cartilage, flesh, etc. To keep pulling the sucking resistant stuck-tight steel from his ribs, and plunge it in again and again, aiming for the space behind his back, thrusting deep, imagining thrusting past him to do the most harm. To do as much damage as possible, to slash at his throat even if it spattered me and if the blade snagged and ripped his skin from his neck. To stab his eyeballs, to not give him a moment to harm me.

I can’t describe how freaky these nightmares are to me, how vivid and un-movie-like they are. How real they feel even when I am lucid enough to know my life is not really in danger because I’m dreaming; I still feel that my life depends on overcoming any qualms I have about destroying this person’s tissues. I have to kill this person because he’s trying to kill and rape and stab and torture ME.

On that happy note, I have a show a 2 pm Pacific. There will be no knives.