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October 23rd, 2013 -- by Bacchus

An Unequal Workplace

I’ve heard that gender relations in traditional Japanese workplaces are very unequal. But this is downright ridiculous:

office ladies sucking dour businessmen under the conference table

According to my source, the artist is Nishizaki Eimu.

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October 22nd, 2013 -- by Bacchus

Violet Blue Said “Squeeee~!”

I’ve never met Violet Blue face-to-face, but we’ve had each others’ backs in the sex-blogging trade for more than a decade now, and I consider her a friend. So I was delighted to wake up to this romantic snapshot in her twitter feed this morning:

asking-violet

The adjacent tweet says the rest:

Her twitter feed has been full of happy stuff about this fellow for quite some time now, so it strikes me as good news indeed. Felicitations to the happy couple!

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October 21st, 2013 -- by Bacchus

Pornocalypse Comes…For The ACLU

Apparently this statue is at the center of a controversy in Kansas, where the raving loonies are having a second try at getting it declared legally obscene:

kansas nude statue

The American Civil Liberties Union is on the case (naturally enough) and recently they made a FaceBook post about it that included a photo of the statue. Facebook deleted it. And gave the freakin’ ACLU a 24-hour posting ban for having posted it:

We at the ACLU were reassured of one thing this past weekend: Facebook’s chest-recognition detectors are fully operational. A recent post of ours, highlighting my blog post about an attempt to censor controversial public art in Kansas, was itself deemed morally unfit for Facebook. The whole episode is a reminder that corporate censorship is bad policy and bad business.

The blog is about a kerfuffle over a statue in a public park outside Kansas City: a nude woman taking a selfie of her own exposed bronze breasts. A group of citizens organized by the American Family Association believes the statue to be criminally obscene (it isn’t), and has begun a petition process to haul the sculpture to court (really, they are). Our Facebook post included a link to the blog post and a photo of the statue in question.

Our intrepid Digital Media Associate, Rekha Arulanantham, got word on Sunday that the Facebook post had been deleted, and was no longer viewable by our Facebook followers or anyone else. I duly informed my Kansas colleague Holly Weatherford that the photograph she’d taken had prompted a social media blackout. Then, astoundingly, on Tuesday morning Rekha discovered the ACLU had been blocked from posting for 24 hours, with a message from Facebook warning us these were the consequences for repeat violations of its policy.

We were flabbergasted; we hadn’t tried to republish the offending post or the associated rack. So, just to get this straight: the ACLU’s post on censorship was shut down–not once, but twice–for including a picture of, and a political discussion about, a statue standing in a Kansas park.

Of course, the ACLU can get access to real humans at FaceBook in a way that normal people probably can’t:

There was no “appeal” button, and we were unable to find a page where we could report or challenge the post’s deletion. The best option appeared to be a generic Facebook content form, designed to receive any input at all about a “Page.” We got a response: a canned email informing us that Facebook “can’t respond to individual feedback emails.” Not exactly promising.

But we have an advantage most Facebook users don’t: We’re a national non-profit with media access and a public profile. So we tracked down Facebook’s public policy manager, and emailed him about our dilemma. His team was immediately responsive, looked into it promptly, and told us that the post was “mistakenly removed” (and then “accidentally removed again”). Here’s what Facebook wrote to us:

We apologize for this error. Unfortunately, with more than a billion users and the hundreds of thousands of reports we process each week, we occasionally make a mistake. We hope that we’ve rectified the mistake to your satisfaction.

Facebook then restored the original post.

our ultimate success is cold comfort for anyone who has a harder time getting their emails returned than does the ACLU. It’s unlikely that our experience is representative of the average aggrieved Facebook user. For most, that generic form and the canned response are as good as it’s currently going to get.

Indeed.

To be fair, this isn’t really a #pornocalypse story despite my post title. I’ve been using the pornocalypse buzzword and hashtag for stories about big internet companies who got big by being porn-friendly (or, at least, apathetic or agnostic about adult content on their platforms) who later inevitably decide to crack down on it and remove it in an attempt to be more attractive for investors, advertisers, and mainstream public opinion. Facebook, by contrast, has never been nudity-friendly as far as I know. This is really more of a cautionary tale about the doomed and foolish idea that you can machine-filter out nudity and sexual content without disrupting important grownup conversations (political, medical, et cetera) that you presumably actually do want on your social media platform. (I say “presumably” with some skepticism, though. In a world full of squeamish advertisers, perhaps FaceBook really would prefer that the ACLU doesn’t discuss a controversial nude statue. But if so, they have to know they can’t admit that out loud while still claiming to offer a functional social-media platform.)

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October 20th, 2013 -- by Bacchus

Talented Dildo Sucker

The woman in this video is a webcam personality called Kristina Lovett. I’d say she’s got talent:

kristi-lovet-dildo-suck

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October 18th, 2013 -- by Bacchus

Galactic Sex Zoo

I’m always a sucker for a good scifi porn comic. In Galactic Zoo, it turns out that the Greys are just minions for some lusty galactic slave catchers:

the grays are kidnapping her for an alien sex slave

galactic slavers admiring their sex slave catches

male and female abductees being hustled along to the sex performance and observation tank

The alien slavers have “expanding gel” that makes sure male captives don’t stay uselessly limp, and they are interested in observing human sexuality, presumably for commercial purposes:

aliens want to know if humans will breed in captivity

it looks like the captive breeding thing is gonna work

Their scientific protocols, however, leave something to be desired.

fucking on command for galactic slavers

And all that’s just during the transport of our unfortunate human abductees. They haven’t even arrived at the titular galactic zoo, yet…


Galactic Zoo
is drawn by Montal for Dofantasy.com.

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October 17th, 2013 -- by Bacchus

The Recent Ebooks Pornocalypse

Ever since Dr. Faustus asked me about it on Twitter, I’ve been paying attention to the stories about a scummy British tabloid fright piece on dirty ebooks that has been rippling through the online bookselling ecosystem recently. It’s terribly difficult to get precise information, but it appears that all the major ebook retailers are going through their catalogs with fire and sword and badly-tuned keyword searches, removing many titles from availability and explaining themselves either badly or not-at-all.

The best summary (even if it’s a few days old now) that I’ve seen so far is here: Self-Published Erotica is Being Singled Out For Sweeping Deletions From Major eBookstores.

I haven’t done any independent reporting of my own, except to go check my own self-published ebook (a lightly-edited repackage and modernization of a neglected Victorian classic) in the Amazon and Kobo stores. I can report that it remains in both stores, though I did get a creepily-vague form email from Kobo putting me on notice of unspecified changes in how they enforce their unspecified policies.

I guess I don’t need to remind everybody that eventually the pornocalypse comes for us all…

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October 17th, 2013 -- by Bacchus

Post-Halloween “Walk Of Shame”

Elle magazine has a less-obnoxious-than-you-would-think feature in which writer Jo Piazza reminisces about a memorable “walk of shame” after a Halloween party at which she’d dressed all Britney Spears schoolgirl. Of course the cool people on Twitter are advocating to call that ritual “the stride of pride” these days, and I’d say Piazza reaches a similar conclusion in her piece:

The Britney Spears “Hit Me Baby One More Time” video was still all the rage in the fall of 2001. Only a couple of years earlier, I had attended an all girls academy that mandated the wearing of plaid kilts, which facilitated my dressing as a precocious and sexually sophisticated school girl for a Halloween mixer in the basement of the Phi Delta Theta fraternity at the University of Pennsylvania. Following the celebration of Halloween, I decamped to the off-campus apartment of a handsome swimmer still clad in said skirt (shorter now after I experienced a growth spurt following my freshman year), thigh-high stockings, six-inch platform heels, and a too-tiny white button down shirt that bared three inches of belly. There were pigtails. There was a lollipop.

And so on the balmy morning of November 1, I found myself contemplating theft as I hunted for a T-shirt amidst the shockingly neat apartment of the gentleman I spent the evening with. Any T-shirt, clean or dirty would have sufficed, but I managed to shack up with the one college boy who regularly put away his laundry. It was 7 a.m. I had a mandatory 8 a.m. calculus recitation and no choice but to venture the five blocks across campus dressed as I had the night prior. I rolled my knee socks up into a ball and slipped my feet bare into the heels, wincing at the blisters they carved during a particularly spirited dance to Chumbawamba “Tubthumping.” I tried in vain to tug my button-up to cover my belly, but there simply wasn’t enough material. I pulled the pigtails into a bun because that made it all more respectable and ventured out onto Chestnut Street. The four-story apartment complex exited on the very edge of my college campus. Across the street the real Philadelphia began, starting with a topless GoGo bar called Wizards. I nearly ran smack into two of the young employees, maybe my age, maybe younger, leaving their very late shift.

“I’ve done Britney before,” the blonde one said. “The old farts love it.” She offered me a Marlboro Red. I took it. There we were on a street corner, a few ladies of the night just sharing a smoke.

Without even sunglasses to create the illusion of privacy, I made the turn onto campus proper and began my journey, stubbing out the cigarette…

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