still not getting it

A fascinating 'warning' about a 'bad egg' producer of a, uhm, pornographic website.

link to a naughty website, beware!

written by Clayra Beau.

The interesting part is where the conversation turns from this 'bad egg' to the 'good eggs' at kink.com.

Somewhere around the bend of that turn, they mention the documentary xxxexpose.com, which was done by Moonshine and Ammodeus perhaps 6 or so years ago now. The documentary disappeared, but it's legacy seems to live on, because it keeps getting mentioned in certain sectors, like some echo down through time and space.

The thing is this. Moonshine's documentary was about a site called Insex, which was run by a guy called P. D., whose real name you can easily find by googling Carnegie Mellon University's computer division back in the 1990s.

Mr. D was chased out of the State of New York, and who knows why really, because the mafia and investment bankers injure people all the time - I guess they don't film it and sell access to the experience to the entire internet.

Mr. D. wound up in .... the San Francisco area. If you dig around the "community" websites out there, you will find him. It's not hard to do. Mr. D. is linked to kink.com.

And so, what does he do? He helps them sell the idea. The product. Like Moonshine said, it's this idea that your value as a human being is directly related to how much suffering you can endure.

And the models suffer. Kink.com does not provide health insurance. Instead, they change that word 'actor' into 'model', because actors would have to be payed union scale. Nobody in kink.com wants to pay union scale or follow union rules. Even though they are engaged in the business of producing and selling film. So when you are a "star" model on kink.com and you get cancer, you die. While the owners continue to run a business worth tens of millions of dollars. That is the value proposition for the new economy. That is what it's about. That is what you are buying.

-----

It's a beautiful painting. The CEO has profiles in the New York Times, the San Francisco Examiner, the Wall Street Journal... and of course, why shouldn't he? He makes money. By so many measuring sticks, this means success in life.

Moonshine --- one wonders what she has? Where does she live? What kind of job does she do now? How much money does she make? Will she ever be profiled in a magazine or a newspaper of wide repute?


Ahh. There is the question. For all Moonshine did was tell the truth in the face of the naked emperor.


One is reminded of Akhmatova... all these years later, so many people read Akhmatova. They learn russian just so they can sound out the vowels of her sentences, even if they do it badly.

Vse raskisheno, predana, prodana,
Chernoy smerty melkala krila
Vse golodnoye, toskoyoo izglodana
Otchego zhe nam stala svetla?


And Anna Akhmatova lived alone in a tiny apartment and struggled to eat, for decades. She was forbidden from travel. For decades. Her son was in prison. For years. Her husband was killed. Her work was banned. And so she stopped writing. She even praised Stalin once or twice, to avoid her son's death.


But Anna Akhmatova is alive. And Stalin's words, they are forgotten and buried... when the librarians come to the time of year to do the weeding, and they throw out the things that they throw out, they throw out Stalin, they keep Akhmatova. Because someone, some nobody with a bobbed haircut, a too large gut, and too small shoes, who spends too much time watching TV, and loves singing along to bad music, has felt the spark.


Moonshine is Akhmatova. She is erased, temporarily, by the censors. By those that have power. By those with articles in newspapers, with good friends who keep them out of legal trouble, and give them places to run.


Moonshine is Akhmatova. Long after she is dead, someone will read her work, and find the spark.


Moonshine, in anonymity, is what we should look up to. It is she who would should admire, and write articles about, and say the neighbors love. Moonshine is the good egg.