Ramyrez said: »
Everyone together, please:
"Correlation does not equal causation."
And right now correlation is all they have.
"Correlation does not equal causation."
And right now correlation is all they have.
Meanwhile, At The Huffington Post:
Meanwhile, at the Huffington Post:
They are trying to link Judaism and autism together, if you think about it.
[+]
[+]
Leviathan.Chaosx said: »
Quote:
A controversial new study from Denmark shows a link between circumcision and autism, although experts differ sharply over what to make of it.
For the study, published online Jan. 8, 2015 in the Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine, a pair of researchers looked at cases of autism spectrum disorder (ASD) in more than 340,000 boys born in Denmark between 1994 and 2003. The researchers found that the overall risk of developing autism before age 10 was almost 50 percent higher for circumcised boys than uncircumcised boys.
What explains the link?
"All we can say at this point is that there is a statistical association between circumcision and autism," study co-author Dr. Morten Frisch, a consultant at the Statens Serum Institut (State Serum Institute) and adjunct professor of sexual health epidemiology at Aalborg University in Copenhagen, told The Huffington Post in an email. "We cannot say whether it is a causal association or some spurious non-causal link for which we currently don't have an explanation."
For the study, published online Jan. 8, 2015 in the Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine, a pair of researchers looked at cases of autism spectrum disorder (ASD) in more than 340,000 boys born in Denmark between 1994 and 2003. The researchers found that the overall risk of developing autism before age 10 was almost 50 percent higher for circumcised boys than uncircumcised boys.
What explains the link?
"All we can say at this point is that there is a statistical association between circumcision and autism," study co-author Dr. Morten Frisch, a consultant at the Statens Serum Institut (State Serum Institute) and adjunct professor of sexual health epidemiology at Aalborg University in Copenhagen, told The Huffington Post in an email. "We cannot say whether it is a causal association or some spurious non-causal link for which we currently don't have an explanation."
I'm writing my doctoral thesis on Autism and circumcision thanks Huff Post!
fonewear said: »
I'm writing my doctoral thesis on Autism and circumcision thanks Huff Post!
You dropped your Ph.D. research in women's lib that fast?
The feminists are going to have your balls, and not in any way that's actually enjoyable.
[+]
[+]
That's going to be the title of my book: "Jews & Autism: Take a little bit off the top."
[+]
2nd book title: "Transsexual Climate Scientists and the Global Jihad on Carbon."
Leviathan.Chaosx said: »
2nd book title: "Transsexual Climate Scientists and the Global Jihad on Carbon."
[+]
Bloodrose said: »
Leviathan.Chaosx said: »
2nd book title: "Transsexual Climate Scientists and the Global Jihad on Carbon."
Trying to combine various hot topics.
So 50 shades of grey would also include something about abortion and wealth inequality.
[+]
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/03/11/period-pads-women_n_6848644.html?utm_hp_ref=women&ir=Women
The message got Kastratia thinking. And with International Women's Day being celebrated March 8, she decided to print that feminist message and a few others on sanitary napkins and post them on traffic signs all over Karlsruhe, Germany, where she lives.
"I'm not sure if its illegal, but seriously I don't care [because] they are easy to [take off]," she wrote on Instagram.
The message got Kastratia thinking. And with International Women's Day being celebrated March 8, she decided to print that feminist message and a few others on sanitary napkins and post them on traffic signs all over Karlsruhe, Germany, where she lives.
"I'm not sure if its illegal, but seriously I don't care [because] they are easy to [take off]," she wrote on Instagram.
My two favorite things feminism and maxi pads. Say it ain't so !
fonewear said: »
"I'm not sure if its illegal, but seriously I don't care
[+]
Quote:
Who committed the Holocaust ? For the overwhelming majority of historians and, needless to say, Jews it's a settled question: Hitler, and his Nazis. But Christians United For Israel (CUFI) head John Hagee, one of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's closest American allies, has a different answer: "half-breed Jews."
Netanyahu meets frequently with Hagee, endorses CUFI, has spoken at numerous CUFI events, and lavishes Hagee and his organization with praise. Prime Minister Netanyahu is currently scheduled to speak at CUFI's annual Washington summit, July 13-14 2015.
Hagee's Christians United For Israel organization currently sells a book by pastor John Hagee, Jerusalem Countdown: A warning To The World, which on page 149 (2006 "revised and updated" paperback edition) claims Adolf Hitler was a "half-breed Jew" and states (p. 97) that Hitler was sent by God, as a "hunter," to persecute Europe's Jews and drive them towards "the only home God ever intended for the Jews to have-Israel."
In 2008 media uproar over Hagee's "hunter" claim (as made in a 2005 sermon that was exposed by this author) led presidential candidate John McCain to renounce his long-sought endorsement from pastor Hagee.
Hagee's claim that Hitler was Jewish is not new. In a 2003 sermon broadcast internationally and marketed as a VHS cassette, John Hagee claimed [link to video of sermon] the Antichrist would be "partially Jewish, as was Adolf Hitler, as was Karl Marx."
CUFI head John Hagee also blames anti-Semitism on Jews themselves, writing in Jerusalem Countdown (p. 56) that "It was the disobedience and rebellion of the Jews... that gave rise to the opposition and persecution that they experienced beginning in Canaan and continuing to this very day." Hagee's book then traces (p. 57) the birth of anti-Semitism to Jewish idol worship:
How utterly repulsive, insulting, and heartbreaking to God for his chosen people to credit idols with bringing blessings he had showered upon the chosen people. Their own rebellion had birthed the seed of anti-Semitism that would arise and bring destruction to them for centuries to come.
In Hagee's account "half-breed Jews," Hitler included, have served as the human agents by which God implements a divine curse placed upon the racially pure (non-miscegenated) Jewish people.
On page 149 of Hagee's book Jerusalem Countdown, in a chapter with the ominous title "Who Is a Jew," Hagee writes,
Esau's descendants would produce a lineage that would attack and slaughter the Jews for centuries. Esau's descendants included Haman, whose diabolical mind conceived the "final solution" of the Old Testament -- the extermination of all Jews living in Persia. It was Esau's descendants who produced the half-breed Jews of history who have persecuted and murdered the Jews beyond human comprehension.
Adolf Hitler was a distant descendant of Esau.
In his next sentence, Hagee goes on to make the false claim that in the 1976 book Adolf Hitler: The Definitive Biography, noted Hitler biographer John Toland "records that Hitler was part Jewish." What Toland actually stated in his Hitler biography was "There is the slight possibility that Hitler's grandfather was a wealthy Jew named Frankenberger or Frankenreither."
Hagee's identification of a miscegenated race of "half-breed Jews" tracing back to Esau seems to originate in theological ideas from the fringe, virulently racist white supremacist Christian Identity movement, as described in books such as Religion and The Racist Right: The Origins of the Christian Identity Movement, by leading authority Dr. Michael Barkun.
While John Hagee has for decades loudly and publicly condemned anti-Semitism, his writings and sermons have nonetheless promoted some of the most influential and inflammatory anti-Jewish tropes of the modern era, such as the claim that predatory Jewish bankers control international finance and prey upon the masses of humankind.
(There's more, but it's long)
Netanyahu meets frequently with Hagee, endorses CUFI, has spoken at numerous CUFI events, and lavishes Hagee and his organization with praise. Prime Minister Netanyahu is currently scheduled to speak at CUFI's annual Washington summit, July 13-14 2015.
Hagee's Christians United For Israel organization currently sells a book by pastor John Hagee, Jerusalem Countdown: A warning To The World, which on page 149 (2006 "revised and updated" paperback edition) claims Adolf Hitler was a "half-breed Jew" and states (p. 97) that Hitler was sent by God, as a "hunter," to persecute Europe's Jews and drive them towards "the only home God ever intended for the Jews to have-Israel."
In 2008 media uproar over Hagee's "hunter" claim (as made in a 2005 sermon that was exposed by this author) led presidential candidate John McCain to renounce his long-sought endorsement from pastor Hagee.
Hagee's claim that Hitler was Jewish is not new. In a 2003 sermon broadcast internationally and marketed as a VHS cassette, John Hagee claimed [link to video of sermon] the Antichrist would be "partially Jewish, as was Adolf Hitler, as was Karl Marx."
CUFI head John Hagee also blames anti-Semitism on Jews themselves, writing in Jerusalem Countdown (p. 56) that "It was the disobedience and rebellion of the Jews... that gave rise to the opposition and persecution that they experienced beginning in Canaan and continuing to this very day." Hagee's book then traces (p. 57) the birth of anti-Semitism to Jewish idol worship:
How utterly repulsive, insulting, and heartbreaking to God for his chosen people to credit idols with bringing blessings he had showered upon the chosen people. Their own rebellion had birthed the seed of anti-Semitism that would arise and bring destruction to them for centuries to come.
In Hagee's account "half-breed Jews," Hitler included, have served as the human agents by which God implements a divine curse placed upon the racially pure (non-miscegenated) Jewish people.
On page 149 of Hagee's book Jerusalem Countdown, in a chapter with the ominous title "Who Is a Jew," Hagee writes,
Esau's descendants would produce a lineage that would attack and slaughter the Jews for centuries. Esau's descendants included Haman, whose diabolical mind conceived the "final solution" of the Old Testament -- the extermination of all Jews living in Persia. It was Esau's descendants who produced the half-breed Jews of history who have persecuted and murdered the Jews beyond human comprehension.
Adolf Hitler was a distant descendant of Esau.
In his next sentence, Hagee goes on to make the false claim that in the 1976 book Adolf Hitler: The Definitive Biography, noted Hitler biographer John Toland "records that Hitler was part Jewish." What Toland actually stated in his Hitler biography was "There is the slight possibility that Hitler's grandfather was a wealthy Jew named Frankenberger or Frankenreither."
Hagee's identification of a miscegenated race of "half-breed Jews" tracing back to Esau seems to originate in theological ideas from the fringe, virulently racist white supremacist Christian Identity movement, as described in books such as Religion and The Racist Right: The Origins of the Christian Identity Movement, by leading authority Dr. Michael Barkun.
While John Hagee has for decades loudly and publicly condemned anti-Semitism, his writings and sermons have nonetheless promoted some of the most influential and inflammatory anti-Jewish tropes of the modern era, such as the claim that predatory Jewish bankers control international finance and prey upon the masses of humankind.
(There's more, but it's long)
[+]
Men are terrible in other news !
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/03/13/porn-women-study_n_6831402.html?utm_hp_ref=women&ir=Women
Despite these findings, portrayals of women in pornography are still fraught, and porn remains a divisive subject.
"[Porn] is not unusual," Alice Rutkowski, Associate Professor of English who teaches a course on the history and implications of pornography at SUNY Geneseo, told The Huffington Post. "It just replicates the dynamics that are present in other parts of our culture."
Rutkowski, who's not connected to the study, said that porn has plenty to improve upon, but its gendered norms aren't unique to sexually graphic content. Of course, she also said that consent is a key component. While many of the scenarios that play out in porn may not seem pleasurable to everyone, if consent is expressed, it may just be a "different strokes for different folks" kind of situation.
"Sex is so personal," Rutkowski said. "It's so easy for us to look at something and say, 'That's horrible -- how could that person like that?'"
It's also important to understand that porn isn't perfect, nor is it a representation of reality. In the study, men were more likely to orgasm or be manually or orally stimulated than women were. Close-up shots of women's body parts were shown significantly more often than those of men's. And even though violent acts and manipulation into sex were rare, when either of these things did happen, the researchers found that they generally happened to women. Not to mention, women were more likely to be dominated by men.
However you interpret these findings, this study gives us a bit more insight into how popular mainstream pornography portrays men and women. And since 25 percent of American men admit to watching Internet porn, more context and dialogue on the topic can only be good things.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/03/13/porn-women-study_n_6831402.html?utm_hp_ref=women&ir=Women
Despite these findings, portrayals of women in pornography are still fraught, and porn remains a divisive subject.
"[Porn] is not unusual," Alice Rutkowski, Associate Professor of English who teaches a course on the history and implications of pornography at SUNY Geneseo, told The Huffington Post. "It just replicates the dynamics that are present in other parts of our culture."
Rutkowski, who's not connected to the study, said that porn has plenty to improve upon, but its gendered norms aren't unique to sexually graphic content. Of course, she also said that consent is a key component. While many of the scenarios that play out in porn may not seem pleasurable to everyone, if consent is expressed, it may just be a "different strokes for different folks" kind of situation.
"Sex is so personal," Rutkowski said. "It's so easy for us to look at something and say, 'That's horrible -- how could that person like that?'"
It's also important to understand that porn isn't perfect, nor is it a representation of reality. In the study, men were more likely to orgasm or be manually or orally stimulated than women were. Close-up shots of women's body parts were shown significantly more often than those of men's. And even though violent acts and manipulation into sex were rare, when either of these things did happen, the researchers found that they generally happened to women. Not to mention, women were more likely to be dominated by men.
However you interpret these findings, this study gives us a bit more insight into how popular mainstream pornography portrays men and women. And since 25 percent of American men admit to watching Internet porn, more context and dialogue on the topic can only be good things.
Much better, lol.
[+]
We can all relate to this:
TLDR: It is hard to find a nice guy when you are porn star.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/xojane-/im-a-sex-worker-and-dating-is-awkward_b_6770650.html?utm_hp_ref=women&ir=Women
When I entered into porn in 2011, I was in a relationship that I thought was going to last forever.
So when I found myself single a few years later and decided to enter into the dating world, I realized that my dilemma was twofold; not only did I understand very little about how single people went about being a couple, but when I found one I might want to couple with, I had to figure out how to tell them about my rather unconventional day job.
I know plenty of girls in my industry who have partners who are not in the business and who are quite happy. Contrary to what people will tell you, just as there are tons of people who would never date a sex worker, there are also plenty of people in prestigious occupations with designer educations that would LOVE to marry a porn star. May not make sense to everyone, but it only has to make sense to the two of them.
When I first became single, I had been doing porn for about a year, but I performed exclusively with women, which, for whatever reason, is more "forgivable" to a lot of people.
I wasn't really interested in getting emotionally invested in someone else. But I also didn't worry too much about what might happen if I ever wanted to date a "civilian," since I wouldn't have to explain much more than that I had sex with women on camera sometimes. They'd probably get into a high fiving contest with their friends.
In the first year of being single, I just kind of reveled in my freedom.
I was spoiled. If I wanted great sex with a hot guy who wasn't going to try to bog me down in emotional stuff, I could just call one of my coworkers. And so that's what I did for a while; just slept with my work friends who kept it cool but satisfied the physical urges with the added bonus of no explanations required. It wasn't until a year later when I started shooting scenes with men as well that it hit me.
I was at a gas station filling up the air in one of my tires when a strikingly handsome guy pulled up next to me. He was like something out of a billboard selling cologne, and drove a Mercedes and blasted Band of Horses. He wasn't exactly my type, but he was certainly good-looking and he was confident.
"I know this is weird, but you're really beautiful and if I don't ask for your number, I'll probably never see you again."
His name was Paul and he had blindingly white teeth. I gave him my number
hat night we were out on a date. He was courteous and lovely. He had just finished his bachelor's degree and was contemplating entering the police academy with an eye on becoming a detective.
That all sounded great to me, and I realized that I really, really didn't want to tell him about myself.
I mean, I was fine telling him about the town I grew up in, that I double majored in sociology and literature, and that I went to a prestigious writing program, and that I was working on my first novel. I didn't mind telling him about the past three years I'd spent in New York working as an art model. I just didn't want to mention what I did now.
I love my job. I think I do something important in its own way. I perform in graphic narratives that people use to get off. I think getting off is a vital part of human life and one that we shouldn't have to apologize for. I also realize that reality is a long way off, and in the meantime I spend a lot of my time wading through the bog of ***that is other people's shame and rage as it relates to their sexuality.
So I didn't tell him.
I justified this to myself with the notion that, hey, who knows if this is even serious and why weigh it down unnecessarily with all of the heavy lifting of institutionalized sexism that demands very specific sanctions against women that are empowered in any way financially or sexually, and, most especially, both?
I mean, just writing about it is a headache. I can already hear everyone who hates porn weighing in with some hot take that's most likely based on irrational feelings rather than empirical truths. I digress.
We shared a sweet kiss. He had a firm body and a pressing desire, but was very respectful in a way that was so sweet it made my stomach turn.
I drove home knowing it was an impossible situation. He couldn't really know me to know if things were going to work out without knowing the whole truth, but knowing the whole truth was likely to cut things off at the pass. I'm pretty good at sussing people out, and he'd dropped enough hints in the conversation over dinner for me to figure out that he'd have some questions about the porn thing and it would definitely cause some conflict.
The chemistry was nice, but I decided that he wasn't worth the trouble.
I didn't despair long. My brother came to visit me for the holidays, touting the virtues of a new dating app called Tinder.
A dating site seemed a little easier. I could put myself out there without any pictures from work, get some responses to people that were genuinely into me, and then I could come out if we made it past a few dates.
My phone was buzzing immediately with more "matches" than I could keep up with. Tinder is a slash and burn campaign through the sexual jungle. I became precise in my rejection of people based solely on their looks, age, or interests. But once again, it's hard to get to really know someone without revealing a key piece of information, mainly that all of your income is derived from the sexual services you sell, and more than that, a brand that revolves around sex.
As much as I tried to keep my job out of the conversation in the getting-to-know-you phase of courtship, it's typical to ask what someone does for a living.
Conversations became circular and weird, all dancing around the fact that I had this weird job that was going to affect just about every aspect of a relationship, should it develop. Porn has taught me one thing absolutely: that people's sexuality is fractured and everyone is ham-handed about dealing with it. As clumsy as any negotiation about sexual politics has ever been, being a sex worker is like placing a loaded gun on the table.
It was hard. I found some good matches on Tinder. I'm college educated and I'm a writer. I have a lot of interests that aren't necessarily common among my work peers. I come to the job with a somewhat unusual background, which is fine for friendships, but when it comes to developing more intimate relationships, it can be more challenging. Tinder was dangling some pretty sweet fruit in front of me. A guy with six pack abs kissing a dolphin with a graduate degree in comparative literature? Ugh!
I realized I had to just start telling people.
I made up a pat response. When a guy would ask me to tell them about myself, what I did, etc., I would reply with:
"Writing is my life. I travel a lot, but not to anywhere interesting, usually San Francisco or Las Vegas, sometimes NYC. I love history and music and I have a pitbull rescue named Coco that I'm over-emotionally attached to. My iPhone is my life, I live out of suitcases, and I haven't unpacked most of my furniture yet. Netflix is like weed to me, and I have a diet that involves things called 'cheat days' and 'shame spirals.' I like the words 'overmuch' and 'evermore.' I'm a feminist and progressive and have a graduate education and really strong views about the wage gap. I write for an edutainment program about history on YouTube, I have a podcast, and, also, I'm a porn star."
This little chunk of text actually served me well. Most guys weren't scared off by my admission. What I learned is that a lot of people know someone who is in the adult industry and a lot of people don't really mind potentially *** a girl that *** professionally.
What I did find was that no matter what, it would shift the tone of the conversation. Now guys would want me to send a selfie; they'd tell me how sexy I was despite the fact that I wasn't using anything more than fully clothed, decidedly neutral pics from my iPhone on my profile and my bio read, "Doe-eyed intellectual giant seeks Marcus-Aurelius type for disordered romantic attachment."
Of course, too, they wanted to know all about my work. Most correspondences devolved into these vaguely sexual exchanges. There's an assumption that you want to engage with people's erections at all times.
"You're so sexy. Can you maybe send me a selfie?"
I understand it's meant as a compliment, but the problem is that most of my interactions are based on my looks, and the main thing I'm looking for when I decide if I'm going to date someone is a sense of rapport. It's a subtle thing . . . but it's there, the feeling that men get overwhelmed with the idea of a P_O_R_N_S_T_A_R.
I don't really hold any of this against people. There's no guide to dating a sex worker and I hardly expect anyone to "get it right" on the first go. Having been an adult for a while, I've seen relationships that work and ones that don't, but the rule is that every couple is unique and they all have to negotiate the very normal human feelings of jealousy, insecurity, and self-interest.
I found myself in a mire. Tinder was too sexually charged for me because I was a sex worker. Not in the fun way where everyone wants to *** you, but in the un-fun way where everyone wants to be unabashedly honest with you about their sexual desires and hang-ups because you're not a "normal person" anymore.
I deleted the app after four or five conversations that all ended the same way.
*Opening joke to seem charming*
*Charming response back*
"You seem pretty clever what kind of history you into? What do you write?"
*I offer some part of the French Revolution that I'm interested in and ask them about something in their profile.*
"You from here? What do you do?"
*Cut and paste pat response*
"Oh wow, interesting."
"Sometimes. It's usually just a fun job."
"I guess we can do anything we want ; )"
*Dismayed silence*
"Hey sexy girl."
*Exhausted nonresponse*
"You still want to hang out?"
I decided to abandon dating sites for simply relying on people I met through Twitter or through friends, people who already know what I do. I've had to become very zen about dating. I wait for potential partners to come to me.
I'm impatient, so it is challenging, but the results have been somewhat surprising. A lot of really interesting people are actually very open to the experience of dating a girl in the sex industry. (It's like the institutionalized sexism I've toiled under all my life was telling me lies . . . .) When you put it all out there, you get some really amazing things back.
I have a podcast where I interview comedians, and I found a guy from New York I really wanted to have on. I saw he was coming to LA in the near future and we struck up a conversation on Twitter that quickly went to text. We had a good rapport. We decided to meet up at a show he was playing. He was stunning, attractive, intelligent, and with a kind of magnetism that made it feel like you'd already seen him on his own TV show.
After his set, we met at the bar and talked about a way to get him on my show. He was leaving soon. He was curious about what I was about, what I wanted to do with my life, what my ambitions were. I tried to explain the premise of my show.
"I know most people won't care that I think about things because I'm a porn girl, but I'm trying to sneak it in there. I figure if I bring in comedians they'll be more inclined to listen to someone like me talking about ideas."
"My ex-girlfriend was an escort, she used to say the same thing," he said.
And he said it without a trace of shame or judgment.
And I think I cracked a smile for the first time since I'd started on all this nonsense.
We weren't on a date, and this wasn't a romantic encounter, but it filled me with hope.
TLDR: It is hard to find a nice guy when you are porn star.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/xojane-/im-a-sex-worker-and-dating-is-awkward_b_6770650.html?utm_hp_ref=women&ir=Women
When I entered into porn in 2011, I was in a relationship that I thought was going to last forever.
So when I found myself single a few years later and decided to enter into the dating world, I realized that my dilemma was twofold; not only did I understand very little about how single people went about being a couple, but when I found one I might want to couple with, I had to figure out how to tell them about my rather unconventional day job.
I know plenty of girls in my industry who have partners who are not in the business and who are quite happy. Contrary to what people will tell you, just as there are tons of people who would never date a sex worker, there are also plenty of people in prestigious occupations with designer educations that would LOVE to marry a porn star. May not make sense to everyone, but it only has to make sense to the two of them.
When I first became single, I had been doing porn for about a year, but I performed exclusively with women, which, for whatever reason, is more "forgivable" to a lot of people.
I wasn't really interested in getting emotionally invested in someone else. But I also didn't worry too much about what might happen if I ever wanted to date a "civilian," since I wouldn't have to explain much more than that I had sex with women on camera sometimes. They'd probably get into a high fiving contest with their friends.
In the first year of being single, I just kind of reveled in my freedom.
I was spoiled. If I wanted great sex with a hot guy who wasn't going to try to bog me down in emotional stuff, I could just call one of my coworkers. And so that's what I did for a while; just slept with my work friends who kept it cool but satisfied the physical urges with the added bonus of no explanations required. It wasn't until a year later when I started shooting scenes with men as well that it hit me.
I was at a gas station filling up the air in one of my tires when a strikingly handsome guy pulled up next to me. He was like something out of a billboard selling cologne, and drove a Mercedes and blasted Band of Horses. He wasn't exactly my type, but he was certainly good-looking and he was confident.
"I know this is weird, but you're really beautiful and if I don't ask for your number, I'll probably never see you again."
His name was Paul and he had blindingly white teeth. I gave him my number
hat night we were out on a date. He was courteous and lovely. He had just finished his bachelor's degree and was contemplating entering the police academy with an eye on becoming a detective.
That all sounded great to me, and I realized that I really, really didn't want to tell him about myself.
I mean, I was fine telling him about the town I grew up in, that I double majored in sociology and literature, and that I went to a prestigious writing program, and that I was working on my first novel. I didn't mind telling him about the past three years I'd spent in New York working as an art model. I just didn't want to mention what I did now.
I love my job. I think I do something important in its own way. I perform in graphic narratives that people use to get off. I think getting off is a vital part of human life and one that we shouldn't have to apologize for. I also realize that reality is a long way off, and in the meantime I spend a lot of my time wading through the bog of ***that is other people's shame and rage as it relates to their sexuality.
So I didn't tell him.
I justified this to myself with the notion that, hey, who knows if this is even serious and why weigh it down unnecessarily with all of the heavy lifting of institutionalized sexism that demands very specific sanctions against women that are empowered in any way financially or sexually, and, most especially, both?
I mean, just writing about it is a headache. I can already hear everyone who hates porn weighing in with some hot take that's most likely based on irrational feelings rather than empirical truths. I digress.
We shared a sweet kiss. He had a firm body and a pressing desire, but was very respectful in a way that was so sweet it made my stomach turn.
I drove home knowing it was an impossible situation. He couldn't really know me to know if things were going to work out without knowing the whole truth, but knowing the whole truth was likely to cut things off at the pass. I'm pretty good at sussing people out, and he'd dropped enough hints in the conversation over dinner for me to figure out that he'd have some questions about the porn thing and it would definitely cause some conflict.
The chemistry was nice, but I decided that he wasn't worth the trouble.
I didn't despair long. My brother came to visit me for the holidays, touting the virtues of a new dating app called Tinder.
A dating site seemed a little easier. I could put myself out there without any pictures from work, get some responses to people that were genuinely into me, and then I could come out if we made it past a few dates.
My phone was buzzing immediately with more "matches" than I could keep up with. Tinder is a slash and burn campaign through the sexual jungle. I became precise in my rejection of people based solely on their looks, age, or interests. But once again, it's hard to get to really know someone without revealing a key piece of information, mainly that all of your income is derived from the sexual services you sell, and more than that, a brand that revolves around sex.
As much as I tried to keep my job out of the conversation in the getting-to-know-you phase of courtship, it's typical to ask what someone does for a living.
Conversations became circular and weird, all dancing around the fact that I had this weird job that was going to affect just about every aspect of a relationship, should it develop. Porn has taught me one thing absolutely: that people's sexuality is fractured and everyone is ham-handed about dealing with it. As clumsy as any negotiation about sexual politics has ever been, being a sex worker is like placing a loaded gun on the table.
It was hard. I found some good matches on Tinder. I'm college educated and I'm a writer. I have a lot of interests that aren't necessarily common among my work peers. I come to the job with a somewhat unusual background, which is fine for friendships, but when it comes to developing more intimate relationships, it can be more challenging. Tinder was dangling some pretty sweet fruit in front of me. A guy with six pack abs kissing a dolphin with a graduate degree in comparative literature? Ugh!
I realized I had to just start telling people.
I made up a pat response. When a guy would ask me to tell them about myself, what I did, etc., I would reply with:
"Writing is my life. I travel a lot, but not to anywhere interesting, usually San Francisco or Las Vegas, sometimes NYC. I love history and music and I have a pitbull rescue named Coco that I'm over-emotionally attached to. My iPhone is my life, I live out of suitcases, and I haven't unpacked most of my furniture yet. Netflix is like weed to me, and I have a diet that involves things called 'cheat days' and 'shame spirals.' I like the words 'overmuch' and 'evermore.' I'm a feminist and progressive and have a graduate education and really strong views about the wage gap. I write for an edutainment program about history on YouTube, I have a podcast, and, also, I'm a porn star."
This little chunk of text actually served me well. Most guys weren't scared off by my admission. What I learned is that a lot of people know someone who is in the adult industry and a lot of people don't really mind potentially *** a girl that *** professionally.
What I did find was that no matter what, it would shift the tone of the conversation. Now guys would want me to send a selfie; they'd tell me how sexy I was despite the fact that I wasn't using anything more than fully clothed, decidedly neutral pics from my iPhone on my profile and my bio read, "Doe-eyed intellectual giant seeks Marcus-Aurelius type for disordered romantic attachment."
Of course, too, they wanted to know all about my work. Most correspondences devolved into these vaguely sexual exchanges. There's an assumption that you want to engage with people's erections at all times.
"You're so sexy. Can you maybe send me a selfie?"
I understand it's meant as a compliment, but the problem is that most of my interactions are based on my looks, and the main thing I'm looking for when I decide if I'm going to date someone is a sense of rapport. It's a subtle thing . . . but it's there, the feeling that men get overwhelmed with the idea of a P_O_R_N_S_T_A_R.
I don't really hold any of this against people. There's no guide to dating a sex worker and I hardly expect anyone to "get it right" on the first go. Having been an adult for a while, I've seen relationships that work and ones that don't, but the rule is that every couple is unique and they all have to negotiate the very normal human feelings of jealousy, insecurity, and self-interest.
I found myself in a mire. Tinder was too sexually charged for me because I was a sex worker. Not in the fun way where everyone wants to *** you, but in the un-fun way where everyone wants to be unabashedly honest with you about their sexual desires and hang-ups because you're not a "normal person" anymore.
I deleted the app after four or five conversations that all ended the same way.
*Opening joke to seem charming*
*Charming response back*
"You seem pretty clever what kind of history you into? What do you write?"
*I offer some part of the French Revolution that I'm interested in and ask them about something in their profile.*
"You from here? What do you do?"
*Cut and paste pat response*
"Oh wow, interesting."
"Sometimes. It's usually just a fun job."
"I guess we can do anything we want ; )"
*Dismayed silence*
"Hey sexy girl."
*Exhausted nonresponse*
"You still want to hang out?"
I decided to abandon dating sites for simply relying on people I met through Twitter or through friends, people who already know what I do. I've had to become very zen about dating. I wait for potential partners to come to me.
I'm impatient, so it is challenging, but the results have been somewhat surprising. A lot of really interesting people are actually very open to the experience of dating a girl in the sex industry. (It's like the institutionalized sexism I've toiled under all my life was telling me lies . . . .) When you put it all out there, you get some really amazing things back.
I have a podcast where I interview comedians, and I found a guy from New York I really wanted to have on. I saw he was coming to LA in the near future and we struck up a conversation on Twitter that quickly went to text. We had a good rapport. We decided to meet up at a show he was playing. He was stunning, attractive, intelligent, and with a kind of magnetism that made it feel like you'd already seen him on his own TV show.
After his set, we met at the bar and talked about a way to get him on my show. He was leaving soon. He was curious about what I was about, what I wanted to do with my life, what my ambitions were. I tried to explain the premise of my show.
"I know most people won't care that I think about things because I'm a porn girl, but I'm trying to sneak it in there. I figure if I bring in comedians they'll be more inclined to listen to someone like me talking about ideas."
"My ex-girlfriend was an escort, she used to say the same thing," he said.
And he said it without a trace of shame or judgment.
And I think I cracked a smile for the first time since I'd started on all this nonsense.
We weren't on a date, and this wasn't a romantic encounter, but it filled me with hope.
[+]
I'm not in porn and it's still hard to find a nice girl !
Maybe if I was a porn star more women would want to read my Huff Post articles !
Maybe if I was a porn star more women would want to read my Huff Post articles !
[+]
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/damon-young/men-just-dont-trust-women_b_6714280.html?utm_hp_ref=women&ir=Women?utm_hp_ref=women&ir=Women
TLDR Something about men !
It took five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged for me to learn something about my wife. Actually, that's misleading. I've learned many things about my wife in that time period. I learned that she owns both a snuggie and a onesie. And I learned that she's prone to wearing both of them at the same time. But, there's one thing in particular that didn't quite dawn on me until recently.
Panama and I were talking about the Rolling Stone story controversy. It eventually segued to Cosby, which then segued into a realization that there's a common thread in each of these types of stories and the tenor of the conversations surrounding them.
Trust. Well, the lack thereof. Generally speaking, we (men) do not believe things when they're told to us by women. Well, women other than our mothers or teachers or any other woman who happens to be an established authority figure. Do we think women are pathological liars? No. But, does it generally take longer for us to believe something if a woman tells it to us than it would if a man told us the exact same thing? Definitely!
This conversation is how, after five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged, I realized I don't trust my wife.
When the concept of trust is brought up, it's usually framed in the context of actions; of what we think a person is capable of doing. If you trust someone, it means you trust them not to cheat. Or steal. Or lie. Or smother you in your sleep. By this measure, I definitely trust my wife. I trust the ***out of her. I also trust her opinions about important things. I trusted that she'd make a great wife, and a trust that she'll be a great mother. And I trust that her manicotti won't kill me.
But you know what I don't really trust? What I've never actually trusted with any women I've been with? Her feelings.
If she approaches me pissed about something, my first reaction is "What's wrong?"
My typical second reaction? Before she even gets the opportunity to tell me what's wrong? "She's probably overreacting."
My typical third reaction? After she expresses what's wrong? "Ok. I hear what you're saying, and I'll help. But whatever you're upset about probably really isn't that serious."
I'm both smart and sane, so I don't actually say any of this aloud. But I am often thinking it. Until she convinces me otherwise, I assume that her emotional reaction to a situation is disproportionate to my opinion of what level of emotional reaction the situation calls for. Basically, if she's on eight, I assume the situation is really a six.
I'm speaking of my own relationship, but I know I'm not alone. The theme that women's feelings aren't really to be trusted by men drives (an estimated) 72.81 percent of the sitcoms we watch, 31.2 percent of the books we read, and 98.9 percent of the conversations men have with other men about the women in their lives. Basically, women are crazy, and we are not. Although many women seem to be very annoyed by it, it's generally depicted as one of those cute and innocuous differences between the sexes.
And perhaps it would be, if it were limited to feelings about the dishes or taking out the garbage. But, this distrust can be pervasive, spreading to a general skepticism about the truthfulness of their own accounts of their own experiences. If women's feelings aren't really to be trusted, then naturally their recollections of certain things that have happened to them aren't really to be trusted either.
This is part of the reason why it took an entire high school football team full of women for some of us to finally just consider that Bill Cosby might not be Cliff Huxtable. It's how, despite hearing complaints about it from girlfriends, homegirls, cousins, wives, and classmates, so many of us refused to believe how serious street harassment can be until we saw it with our own eyes. It's why we needed to see actual video evidence before believing the things women had been saying for years about R. Kelly.
There's an obvious parallel here with the way (many) men typically regard women's feelings and the way (many) Whites typically regard the feelings of non-Whites. It seems like every other day I'm reading about a new poll or study showing that (many) Whites don't believe anything Black people say about anything race/racism-related until they see it with their own eyes. Personal accounts and expressions of feelings are rationalized away; only "facts" that have been carefully vetted and verified by other Whites and certain "acceptable" Blacks are to be believed.
So how do we remedy this? And can it even be remedied? I don't know. This distrust of women's feelings is so ingrained, so commonplace that I'm not even sure we (men) realize it exists. I can do one thing, though. The next time my wife tells me how upset she is about something I'm not sure she should be that upset about, trust her. After five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged, it's the least I can do.
TLDR Something about men !
It took five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged for me to learn something about my wife. Actually, that's misleading. I've learned many things about my wife in that time period. I learned that she owns both a snuggie and a onesie. And I learned that she's prone to wearing both of them at the same time. But, there's one thing in particular that didn't quite dawn on me until recently.
Panama and I were talking about the Rolling Stone story controversy. It eventually segued to Cosby, which then segued into a realization that there's a common thread in each of these types of stories and the tenor of the conversations surrounding them.
Trust. Well, the lack thereof. Generally speaking, we (men) do not believe things when they're told to us by women. Well, women other than our mothers or teachers or any other woman who happens to be an established authority figure. Do we think women are pathological liars? No. But, does it generally take longer for us to believe something if a woman tells it to us than it would if a man told us the exact same thing? Definitely!
This conversation is how, after five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged, I realized I don't trust my wife.
When the concept of trust is brought up, it's usually framed in the context of actions; of what we think a person is capable of doing. If you trust someone, it means you trust them not to cheat. Or steal. Or lie. Or smother you in your sleep. By this measure, I definitely trust my wife. I trust the ***out of her. I also trust her opinions about important things. I trusted that she'd make a great wife, and a trust that she'll be a great mother. And I trust that her manicotti won't kill me.
But you know what I don't really trust? What I've never actually trusted with any women I've been with? Her feelings.
If she approaches me pissed about something, my first reaction is "What's wrong?"
My typical second reaction? Before she even gets the opportunity to tell me what's wrong? "She's probably overreacting."
My typical third reaction? After she expresses what's wrong? "Ok. I hear what you're saying, and I'll help. But whatever you're upset about probably really isn't that serious."
I'm both smart and sane, so I don't actually say any of this aloud. But I am often thinking it. Until she convinces me otherwise, I assume that her emotional reaction to a situation is disproportionate to my opinion of what level of emotional reaction the situation calls for. Basically, if she's on eight, I assume the situation is really a six.
I'm speaking of my own relationship, but I know I'm not alone. The theme that women's feelings aren't really to be trusted by men drives (an estimated) 72.81 percent of the sitcoms we watch, 31.2 percent of the books we read, and 98.9 percent of the conversations men have with other men about the women in their lives. Basically, women are crazy, and we are not. Although many women seem to be very annoyed by it, it's generally depicted as one of those cute and innocuous differences between the sexes.
And perhaps it would be, if it were limited to feelings about the dishes or taking out the garbage. But, this distrust can be pervasive, spreading to a general skepticism about the truthfulness of their own accounts of their own experiences. If women's feelings aren't really to be trusted, then naturally their recollections of certain things that have happened to them aren't really to be trusted either.
This is part of the reason why it took an entire high school football team full of women for some of us to finally just consider that Bill Cosby might not be Cliff Huxtable. It's how, despite hearing complaints about it from girlfriends, homegirls, cousins, wives, and classmates, so many of us refused to believe how serious street harassment can be until we saw it with our own eyes. It's why we needed to see actual video evidence before believing the things women had been saying for years about R. Kelly.
There's an obvious parallel here with the way (many) men typically regard women's feelings and the way (many) Whites typically regard the feelings of non-Whites. It seems like every other day I'm reading about a new poll or study showing that (many) Whites don't believe anything Black people say about anything race/racism-related until they see it with their own eyes. Personal accounts and expressions of feelings are rationalized away; only "facts" that have been carefully vetted and verified by other Whites and certain "acceptable" Blacks are to be believed.
So how do we remedy this? And can it even be remedied? I don't know. This distrust of women's feelings is so ingrained, so commonplace that I'm not even sure we (men) realize it exists. I can do one thing, though. The next time my wife tells me how upset she is about something I'm not sure she should be that upset about, trust her. After five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged, it's the least I can do.
Is this Huffington Post related to the same one that people keep posting puppy and kitty videos from on Facebook?
Idk what this is now.
I think it's just more male bashing for equality or something.
I think it's just more male bashing for equality or something.
[+]
[+]
Penis shaped shirts why didn't I think of this !
fonewear said: »
So, I give Cosby the benefit of the doubt because as a man I'm a misogynist patriarchal person who un-naturally distrusts women?
Oh I'm a racist too?
[+]
fonewear said: »
This conversation is how, after five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged, I realized I don't trust my wife.
Then you married the wrong damn person. QED. Or you're just a dickbag.
[+]
I didn't read that it was more than my four paragraph limit. I just assumed it was about how men and women can't get along but want to !
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