At the end of March Titan finally actually invited me out to their site in Palm Springs to film. Jesse has been in the industry a shorter amount of time, but had already filmed there two or three times, and I was starting to feel some envy. I ended up staying a few extra days just to enjoy the California sunshine; Boston is still a bit bleak at the end of March, after all. And while we were there, I got to be part of two just amazing scenes with two amazing guys.
The first was a scorching scene with a man who not only is one of the models of sexiness for me but is also a really good friend, Hunter Marx. This scene isn’t released yet, but I’ll definitely let you know when it comes out!
The second scene was with a relative newcomer to porn, Dallas Steele. Why this man has taken this long to answer this calling is beyond me. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he fucks like an animal, he takes a brutal fucking, and that dick… Curved exactly right to hit what it has to.
Some viewers have noted a resemblance Dallas has to my boyfriend, Titan Man Jesse Jackman. And I have to say, they’re not wrong. They’re both well over six foot tall, they’re both massively muscular and have those “superhero” torso-to-limb proportions, they’re both furry. Really, about the only difference is that Dallas has a tattoo or two more than Jesse does, and that Dallas has hair. That aside, though, is it any wonder that our on-screen chemistry is incendiary? Just wait, though… There’s a scene coming out in the next several months with Jesse and Dallas. THAT will be one to watch out for!
I mean, really, if it weren’t for the hat and the tattoo, wouldn’t you think that was Jesse? Even the smile is similar!
It is worth noting that, even after having filmed that whole scene, Dallas and I still had more exploration to do with each other after the cameras were put away. Yet again, thanks to TitanMen and the quality of men they work with, I’ve made another really excellent friend both on and off set.
Also on the film, hot scenes from my buddies Eddy CeeTee and Nick Prescott, and a really sexy friend of mine from Chicago, Hugh Hunter. And Hugh gets to work with my god among men, of course, Jesse.
Fellow New Englander Eddy CeeTee
Fellow (erstwhile) Chicagoan, Hugh Hunter
My hubby, Jesse Jackman
Later in the week, Hunter Marx and I got to do a little more exploration, as we were asked to testdrive some of Titan’s new lines of toys. Much fun was had!
Sidewinder says “Aren’t you satisfied with the brand new piano your gay faced BF begged for? Go “compose” something or “share your gift”. LOLOLOLOL!! BOTH OF YOU, STOP TRYING TO BE RELEVANT. You come across as a real pain in the ass. You’re a hooker, your BF is a hooker. JUST BE ONE. And please tell your better half that article about telling is mom about his “adult life” was creepy, inappropriate, and downright strange.”
Gay man With Degree writes “This is being sent around by gay men to other gay men as a gag The Idiotic ramblings of a narcotic corrupted brain. Who other than a dope with a brain functioning lower than that of someone with Down’s syndrome would compare slavery laws to prostitution law’s? And saying there’s no other employment opportunities in the world for young gay men is laughable and a pathetic attempt to justify your laziness and retardation Get a life looser”
I couldn’t have asked for better examples of exactly the sort of stupidity I’m talking about, not even looking at the misspellings and faulty punctuation, or the sophomoric handles and email addresses. Here are two gay men, one of whom has to trumpet the fact that he has a diploma to give any weight to his statements. These guys have swallowed the societal misconception, hook, line, and sinker, that there are classes of people who should be treated like animals. And they’re just the men to do it.
Here’s the thing. I know people are going to disagree with me on the Rentboy events and the nature of sex work, and that’s fine. But it seems if you have a good reason to disagree with me, you might present such an argument.
These two gentlemen have only taken the time to find my blog and post, certainly, but all they’ve done is call me names. Perhaps they lack the ability to formulate a reason to disagree with me, but I suspect it’s just laziness. Anyone with any intelligence who wants to see progress would say “But wait, mightn’t such-and-such be true, or don’t you think…?” Instead all they can do is cast insubstantiatible aspersions on my character, of which the majority people will only see evidence to the contrary. I’m sorry, but if someone hasn’t got a good argument for his position, regardless of whether he’ll ever recognize it, he has lost the fight.
The sad thing is that these comments are couched in such a disparaging, condescending tone. If these men had a real argument, they would have presented one. Lacking one, but still feeling some compulsion to beat me, they’ve resorted to slinging monkey shit. If either of them felt secure in their work, in their sexuality, in their life, they wouldn’t feel like they need to place someone, anyone, into a lower position than they feel they are. Being a porn star and a public figure makes us prime lightning rods for this sort of abuse, but it means nothing.
Are we relevant? Are these gentlemen going to be our relevant voices, with this negativity and contempt? Is this what we want for ourselves?
This insecurity in our ranks is what poisons us as a demographic. If the world at large has a low opinion of us, it’s because this is the sort of respect with which we so often seem to be treating ourselves. It’s not unique to gay men; of course this sort of need to find someone to disparage to make one’s self feel better happens across all divisions of society. However, we as gay men are particularly broken folk. Many of us spent our formative years hearing repeatedly how these feelings and inclinations which are so inherent to our beings are vile, evil, and depraved. Is it any surprise that the less thoughtful of us would internalize these criticisms? Of course lots of us have such low opinions of ourselves. This is a malaise we need to find a cure for, and soon. As long as we continue to turn against ourselves out of a misguided sense of self-preservation, the rest of the world is going to look down on us for our infighting and fractured front.
Realizing I’m preaching to the choir with most of you, this really is a plea to those few of you who would post such a comment. Grow some balls. You’ll be happier.
A quick addendum. Hope you get as big a laugh out of this as I did. Anyone want to translate what the second half of this means? Not that I’m terribly worried about it. The first half of the comment makes some assumptions about my finances he can’t possibly know and which my accountant will find scoffable. However, anyone who uses “Bye Felicia” as a fake email to hide behind and yet still can’t spell “bye” or “Felicia” correctly is probably not much to worry about.
Okay, so perhaps it isn’t quite so surprising that in the days following the mandated legalization of gay marriage that there might be some pushback against any freer expression of sexuality in our society. Indeed, in the States we seem so hellbent on denying that a little physical affection is so necessary to our well-being individually and societally to the point of actually demonizing those needs that those who refuse to utilize those resources available to them hence feel they have to refuse that right to everyone else. Misery does indeed love company! Thus we have laws which regulate our morality instead of protecting us from criminal activity, and morality is subjective. How long did we labor under legal constraints that precluded any sort of non-missionary non-heteronormative sex or even social engagement? How long was it legally codified in our country that folk of African descent were less citizens than those of European descent? As it has come to be understood that these laws were injurious to one demographic and did nothing to protect any other, they have been overturned. And there have been objections from “moralists” to these changes every step of that way.
It is not enough to call something criminal simply because there is a law against it. If that law exists, it is in place (or should be) to protect someone, perhaps many of us, from becoming a victim. Rape laws are in place to prevent unwanted sexual intercourse. Theft laws are in place to prevent people from taking our personal property. Laws outlawing murder are there to deter folk from taking away our lives. In all these instances, there is a victim in the crime, someone who loses something, life, property, dignity. Anyone wishing to deprive us of these basic rights is indeed a criminal, and their capture and punishment should be the aim and objective of the criminal justice system.
Who exactly is the victim of escorting? Is it the escort, who has entered into the arrangement of his (or her) own will and on his terms? Has he been somehow forced into the seraglio, indentured as a sex slave? Or is he an entrepreneur, who identifies a resource he has, and has entered into a business venture to share this resource with a public who has something to offer in return? Is the victim the client, who understands the nature and terms of the transaction before he signs on? Is he somehow being deprived of his money in exchange for something of no value to him? Or is he perhaps a person desiring some company, perhaps some physical affection, and somehow lacks or hasn’t the time to pursue the normal societally-accepted means of coming by that? Or is the victim society in general? Does escorting bear some corollary criminal behavior the same way the inner-city drug trade is closely allied with organized crime and gang warfare? Does providing individuals with company, and if company is of an intimate nature then providing that behind closed doors, somehow corrupt the morals of future generations any more than any other societal norm we exhibit?
Prostitution laws were enacted to protect what was viewed by the upper ends of society as a weak, victimizible class, specifically women of poor means. The idea was that women were being forced into prostitution by unscrupulous men for the man’s profit, and hence these women needed protection. Never was there any acknowledgement that perhaps this was the woman’s only means of survival in a world where men refused to give women the same rights to education, to run a business, to start a household. Nowadays we have more specific laws to protect such classes of folk: we call this human trafficking, and this is a vile and horrid practice, with lots of victims of the sorts described before. Prostitution in the meantime, having spent so much time lumped into society’s understanding of what we’ve come to call human trafficking, has only seen confirmed the veneer slapped over it by society that anyone who would sell their sex and companionship must be morally corrupt. Folks who are sexworkers are constantly called whores and leeches; people accuse them of being too lazy to hold a “real” job, and too dishonest to declare their income to the IRS; they are told they are disease-ridden like vermin. It is possible that examples of any of those can be cited, but I’d challenge anyone to produce evidence that the gross generalization proves true.
Similarly, it’s not the clients hiring these escorts who are victimized. Escorts do not show up, take the cash, and just leave; these men were approached for something the client in fact needed, be that amatory or just companionable. And judging by the number of men who have returned to hire an escort again, often the same escort, it’s certain that in fact it works for them. Many buddies of mine who escort will say that, not unlike being a bartender, there’s far more therapy involved in many meetings than anything else, even whether sex happens or not. Most clients simply need some physical affection, someone to listen to them talk, someone who will reassure him, despite not having someone in their life who will hug them, curl up with them, listen to their problems, or give them someone to go with to do things he enjoys, that he is still loveable. Escorts do exactly this. To suggest that this carries less meaning because they are paid for it is to also suggest that the comfort therapists provide is suspect because they charge, or that a doctor’s Hippocratic oath is rendered violate once he accepts payment, for instance. Where do we draw the line?
Reading through the accusations in the complaint, not once is there any mention of any nonconsensual practice. No instance is brought forth of a single human being being harmed, even tangentially, by letting men pay for sex with other men. Contrast this with the often exaggerated claims of trafficking and human slavery that are used to justify cracking down on heterosexual prostitutes, treating willing female sex workers as default victims: this complaint doesn’t even bother with such niceties. The complaint’s objects are portrayed just as sickening depraved faggots violating New York’s prostitution laws, and the only apparent reason the Department of Homeland Security needs to get involved is because it involves interstate commerce. I mean, really; that men have sex with each other and instead of one buying dinner for the other that there happens to be an exchange of cash is somehow a threat to our American borders and freedoms?
Rentboy.com has been in business for a whopping eighteen years. They have always protected their interests by insisting that all transactions are for the escort’s time, never for the services involved. What happens in that time is something determined between consenting adults. Indeed, perhaps sex is expected, perhaps sexual qualifications are included in the advertisement, but the pay has never been for sex. Rentboy has hardly operated under a veil of secrecy in that time; indeed, beyond offering the company of men they have also been quite visible in their advocacy for sex workers. They have been public advocates for sexual health and mental well-being, not only of their advertisers but also for the gay community at large. They have supported education programs, notably the separate nonprofit HookOnline, founded and run by sexworker advocate Hawk Kinkaid, and offering classes and podcasts to help improve safety and social image for escorts without judgement and without overtones of “we’re here to rescue you.” Rentboy has offered events celebrating our gay culture, dance parties under the HustlaBall aegis and the Hookie Awards. And recognizing the sheer number of young men in their ranks who are using this means as a way to subsidize an education, they just started a scholarship program (happily still taking applications). Why exactly are they being targeted now?
Follow the money, is the answer. Rentboy has grossed well over $10 million; if the prosecuting bodies can make three citations stick and invoke RICO laws, those assets are deemed forfeit, and are divided up between these bodies. Nice little money grab, no? Some are suggesting that this is the principal reason the Department of Homeland Security is involved, and I agree that I think it unlikely that the Rentboy records are going to reveal the name and address of the next Paris train gunman. The other clue may be in the unsubstantiated mention of money laundering in the complaint, and the only thing documented therein which might possibly fall under this heading is a single mention in item 58 of a line item expense in Rentboy’s records, a line item that says “Sean — Viagra”. On one level, that might be an attempt to confirm that Rentboy was in the business of sex, not of companionship, but I wonder if someone didn’t see that as a use of corporate funds for non-corporate use. It’s tiny, but if the authorities only after 18 years of legal hunting finally found this one little crack to wedge their crowbar into, the timing of the raid might make sense. It would explain the multitude of national and state organizations involved in the raid, as the only true legal justification they had was financial malfeasance and potential money laundering, and thence they’re just praying they find the proof they need in the seized records and data from the Rentboy offices to make the rest of the accusations stick.
Even we in the gay community who live on the better side of the tracks tend to forget that lots of us come from far more difficult circumstances. There’s a host of LGBT youth with no welcoming homes and families to return to and no resource for education or social improvement. Studying at the university level requires funding beyond the means of most student-age men; for those with parents lacking or unwilling to help with these expenses, how is such an education to be acquired? The sort of legitimate jobs available to such students don’t begin to cover the expense unless they take up all the student’s time. I find myself wishing I’d had this as a financial resource in my own college days: I would have saved myself and my parents a lot of financial embarrassment. Further, the history of sex work is inextricably tied in with both the feminist movements and gay struggles for equality; to turn against these escorts is to turn our backs on a public that has been our support for decades, if not longer.
The larger gay community and gay leaders need to jump on this and get loud, fast. We’ve been fighting for the right to define our relationships as we choose, not allowing the government to decide what is legitimate. Marriage recognition is just part of that fight. We are not free as long as the government is dictating the terms of our sexual interactions. I expect to see outrage from every major gay and lesbian organization at the callous disregard shown toward those men who seek to sexually connect on their own terms.
Addendum of Sept. 1, with a few more awesome things written or that I’ve found since writing this post:
And for those who don’t like to read (why would you be here, reading my logorrheic prose, though, I’d wonder), there are these two amazing videos.
One by Matt Baume again:
And one produced by Jake Jaxson of Cockyboys, featuring an powerful narrative by Rob Yeager, well known to the porn, sexwork, and BDSM worlds. This video was originally posted to YouTube, but was reported for inappropriate content and was taken down.
What’s my own personal involvement in this? Of the seven men arrested, three have been close friends for years, one (Hawk) nigh a brother to me. One cannot work in porn and not know dozens, possibly hundreds of colleagues, friends and folk one cares about who have been or currently are escorts. These men have done nothing to hurt anyone, are merely capitalizing on one of their own personal assets, and have just found their income slashed.
And me, I’ve escorted, and make no secret of it. After years of a successful career in music working at the top of the field in New York City, the economic “wisdom” of a bunch of greedy bank owners toppled the economy. Want to catalog victims? Folks lost their savings and their homes. Businesses tightened their belts, and cut back on philanthropic outreach. Arts organizations, long dependent on corporate sponsorship, withered and died. My work went from more than I knew what to do with to nil. And as a quarter of the rest of the workforce was suddenly finding themselves jobless too, I found myself confronted with competition from people with MBA’s and law degrees for mere Starbucks posts and bartending gigs, let alone career-track jobs. In the succeeding two years I went from living comfortably though not luxuriously on the Upper West Side of New York City, having savings, and being able to travel a little bit, to being sorely in debt, under investigation by the IRS over the complexity of my many years of tax returns, and unable to find an apartment I was able to afford to move into when my lease ran out. Just in case it has never entered your thoughts as to how such things transpire, this is how homeless people are made. At the risk of sounding like the stereotype of someone forced into prostitution through desperation, it was putting an ad on Rentboy that saved me, at least making it possible to move to cheaper living conditions in Chicago for a few years. It has in a few tight moments since kept me in rent. It has in a number of ways made possible my slow but steady return to my music career in these succeeding years. Without it, I think it quite likely I would have been forced into being one of those poor grubby smelly folk on the New York City subway, begging for change, and enduring the turned-up noses of all those folk who are already turning their judgemental noses up at the fact that I’ve been a whore. Truth be told I would never have let it come to that; of the options available to me, I’d have chosen a tombstone instead.
Hence the real victims are the guys who are legitimately offering a business arrangement on this website. Thanks to a society that demonizes sex, they find their job made substantially more difficult, and possibly more dangerous. It is the world’s oldest profession, so closing Rentboy.com won’t stomp it out of existence; it will resurge again. But if we let this go by unchallenged, we know that they will inch that moralistic line back further. How long until we find some personal freedom you and I value has slipped over that line? If they are willing to push back, we also need to be.
I’ve been quiet for a while, I know. This summer has been focused on making new things in my life go, and resuscitating older things I’ve let slide by the last few years. That’s after we returned from our epic and awesome trip to Australia to do outreach for the Victorian AIDS Council, an experience about which I really need to finish a long blog post.
The major thing I’m redoubling my efforts on is my music career, increasing the amount of writing and performing I do. As part of this effort, many of you were superbly generous to make contributions towards the purchase of a piano for me. I can’t begin to say how grateful I am for that support, and all the thank-you gifts I’d promised I swear are on their way! We’re scrambling to get the CD’s duplicated and packaged at this point. The piano is taking up other time as well; just the rearranging of furniture to accommodate it is proving an undertaking! Meanwhile I’m also in talks with a few people about resuming studies, perhaps pursue a doctorate in music soon. Add to that our couple trips to California, one for the Fourth of July and Jesse’s birthday, and the other for work in LA and Palm Springs, and it’s amazing how quickly the time charges by. Here it is, August already, and until this past Sunday I’d yet to lay eyes on a beach in beach weather this year.
All this is to pave the way for what I’ll be doing with myself after porn. Or maybe not so specifically after porn as what will continue to fill my life as I taper porn off? We all know people who retire from their jobs in their sixties who continue working, just being more selective with projects that interest them. At 43 I’m getting to be serious daddy in porn, but I don’t think it’s retirement age QUITE yet. However, nobody among you is gonna want to watch my septuagenarian ass still fucking on camera in another couple decades. My days in porn are numbered, as are they for any pornstar. And I’m starting to think about (and forgive me, this sounds terribly masturbatory, I know) what my legacy in porn might be. I’m going to be remembered for something after I’m done; it won’t be anything that shatters world paradigms or changes lives, but I’d like it to be something positive, something I can be proud of having accomplished.
I got to have a quick chat with Steve Cruz of Raging Stallion/Falcon at the Grabbys last May in Chicago, about the fact that RS had asked if I’d be available for a film for the first time in three years. I apologized for having to decline the invitation, as the shoot would have happened in the midst of our Australia trip. I was REALLY upset to have to turn it down because it was a chance to work with one of my gods among men, Logan McCree. Steve was honest with me regarding why they hire me so rarely: Raging has certain policies about what sorts of men they hire. This of course is to keep a certain “look” to their films, and pretty much all studios have some sort of guidelines, codified or not, governing who they put on camera. And I’m old. Not too old, but of a visage where the best justification to put me on camera is to pair me with a younger man.
With Colby Jansen on set in the Georgia wilds for Son Swap (MEN.com)
Men.com has been overwhelmingly generous with me over the last two years, for which I’m so grateful. Scenes like the two with Luke Adams and Colby Jansen in Son Swap are scenes I’m proud of; the one with Colby is still one of the most-viewed scenes on the site, and justifiably so, considering how hot my scene partner is, the flip nature of the scene, and my kinda one-of-a-kind cumshot (a direct reflection of how much fun we had filming that). Interestingly that scene is daddy-fucking-daddy, not daddy-fucking- … well, okay, can’t call him “son” because that’s far too specific. Nobody is ever a blood relative, and nobody is under age, either as an actor or as their character. I’m trying to hint to Men that perhaps this daddy-fucking-daddy thing might have some legs; here’s hoping they catch on.
Colby Jansen. That was FUN.
And I think that touches on exactly what rubs me wrong about being “daddy” in porn so often these days. It’s not that I object to the fantasy of being the older man, more confident and assured for a younger fellow; it’s the insistent flirting with the sex-between-family-members angle. It never seems to be enough for there to be just a mutual interest across an age difference, as “daddy” is conventionally used in our everyday gay world. On screen for some reason it always has to be taboo, risky, flirting with pedophilia (which so many fans read into this genre even through every “younger man” I’ve worked with was well into his twenties and every character is clearly understood to be of legal age), with family relationships (SHOULD a stepdad be making sexual overtures to his stepsons even if he knows they’re receptive? Not really to my mind…), and with societal norms. I get it, it’s a potent fantasy for many of you, and porn is about fantasy and not reality. But if we’re going to expect viewers to be able to tell the difference between the fantasy of bareback sex and the reality of an STD-risky real world (for instance), why are so many unwilling to make the conceptual leap from the fantasy of that sexy man mom married to the reality of “I can’t expect that with my own stepson or stepdad”?
Part of this is also not so much the ageism (though that happens too; I’m always seeing comments online about how old I am) as about presumptions about the nature of an attraction when there’s a substantial age difference. This even happens on set; I had a heart-to-heart email exchange with one director who writes her own scripts, having to explain the difference between “daddy”, where the younger man is in fact interested in the older man, and “dirty old man”, where the older man has to use some sort of leverage to coerce the younger man into sex. And then we actually had a fight about it when she said she understood my objection, but still wrote scripts calling for that. She just couldn’t understand that there might be any other motivation for the younger man to have sex with an older man. I’ve been surprised to find this assumption among many straight women, and especially mothers (she is both), that an age difference simply means there must be a predatory intent. I tried to get her to understand that it doesn’t matter how connected and romantic and hot the sex is afterwards, if you’ve established in the opening dialogue that the only reason one party is consenting to sex is to avoid some other unpleasant situation, she’s just made a ____* film. For one scene we never filmed the dialogue because I simply refused to stick to her script, and she threw a tantrum. I don’t work for that studio any more…
With my sexiest stepson, Scott Harbor, in Stepfather’s Secret (MEN.com)
When I was in my 20’s, I don’t think a man under the age of 35 ever caught my eye. I always dated men 5-10 years older than me, sometimes even more. So I understand why “daddy” is such a potent theme. It was back then as well; I just wasn’t aware of anyone calling their interests “daddies”. So the prevalence the trend isn’t in question, and I have no problem with it inherently. I’m just starting to tire of being daddy all the time, especially with movies which play so close to the edge of “are they actually family members or not?” This isn’t what I want on Dirk Caber’s tombstone when he goes, that “He was a good daddy.” I’ve done other things in porn, I’ve still some amazing things to do; there are going to be far more interesting and meaningful projects. Men.com knows that there’s a market for pairing me with someone my own age (or at least someone with whom I’m on some sort of par–I’m pretty sure Colby’s not remotely as old as I am!); TitanMen has certainly been advocating for more age-appropriate pairings for me. And I get it: I’m 43. I am daddy for most of my colleagues, and it’s a mentoring role in real life as well as in the porn world that I’ve enjoyed taking on (though I generally prefer not to be called “daddy”!). So yeah, I embrace it. I just want to be something more than that.
So as I started out saying, among these shifts I’ve been working on this summer I’ve been reassessing what my upcoming goals are. Music is occupying more and more of my time these days. Home life with Jesse is becoming more interesting and involved and intimate. I’ve some huge personal projects which are finally coming together fast. Hence I’m thinking that perhaps it’s time to consider easing up on my porn involvement, similarly to those mentioned earlier who retire from work but keep going in a more selective role; perhaps it’s time to start picking my scenes even little more deliberately. I don’t have to retire entirely, and I make more time for the rest of my life.
I do porn for fun, in the end. Yes, the extra cash has been welcomed and in occasional circumstances direly needed. But it’s not a long-term career, and it’s never something anyone is going to get rich doing, so why invest in it if there isn’t some enjoyment at the least in return? All you watchers out there want to see porn where the guys on screen are actually having fun, right? That chemistry is so much easier when making that film WAS fun. Being given the same role over and over again starts to dull that enjoyment, and I fear that may show. You don’t want that. Neither do I. So…
There is one other HUGE consideration regarding this, which I’m going to have to save for a separate blog post, partly because it will be a lengthy enough exploration unto itself, but mostly because I’m still working out how to couch an expression of frustration without inherently attacking the industry. When I get it written, I know you’ll understand what I’m talking about.
* Addendum: I’ve had to change the text of this article, as one studio objects to the use of certain words in any post that references the studio as well. As my options were either to remove the offending verbiage or cede all of my affiliateship codes and hence income, and possibly being denied further filming work with this studio, I am forced to comply. It does amaze me that the context these words appear in has no bearing on their use; I can be using them entirely in the sense of “There is no _ _ _ _ or _ _ _ _ _ _ in this movie” and it’s still unacceptable. I wouldn’t want to suggest that this studio is worried that you, my intelligent reader, will think that, by mere mention of the concepts these words represent in this post, I am implying that these things happen in these films. It evidently is not enough that I am emphatically saying they do NOT happen in these films. As this this studio routinely flirts with this fantasy and seems certain that you, the intelligent purveyor of porn, would be able to see past the roles portrayed, I cannot believe that your worldly sophistication is simply too suspect for them. But I wouldn’t suggest anything of the sort. I’m sure it’s a computer-driven process that red-flags those words in my blog post. No human is THIS moronic.