Something happened at the end of 2010.  I finally became Andy Warhol.

"Don't pay any attention to what they write about you.  Just measure it in inches." -- Andy Warhol

Just kidding.  I don't think I'm that famous.  (And unlike him, not one feminist has actually tried to murder me yet.)

But, I've finally hit that point - sparked by a frothy mixture of more people talking about me, and more letting go of keeping up with haters - where I'm not even trying to read everything people say about me any more.  Google Alerts for my name and my blog are only glanced at, not read in their entirety, and certainly not used as motivation to jump into fights with people on the internet about whether or not I am an asshole.  (I already know I'm an asshole.  I just happen to be an asshole who's correct most of the time, like all the best villains of fiction.)

Haters are so funny.  I'll never get over the hilarity of how verbose and devoted people get when obsessively, repeatedly explaining to me how "boring" or "unimportant" they find me, and I've attracted heaps of those detractors-cum-fans in the last six weeks between two popularity spikes.  (Although, an all-time favorite insult was from two or three years ago, when a Republican pornographer launched her triumphant fuck-you at me on a forum.  She revealed that she found me so extremely boring that she even wrote a whole blog entry about how boring I am.  Yeah, uh... you sure showed me!)  It's like being in kingergarten and knowing who secretly likes you based on who bothers to throw dirt at you, except now, the dirtiest dirt to be thrown is accusations of having bored the hater.  Let the record reflect that I'm not the one who's hounding my political opposites, following them around the internet in the excited hopes that maybe they'll pay attention to me.  I stay in my own virtual house for the most part - something of an internet cat lady shut-in, I suppose.  I hardly even comment on my friends' blogs (sorry!), let alone spend my life seeking out blogs of strangers I can dislike so I can self-righteously lecture them about exactly why I dislike them.  What a bizarre and neurotic thing to do!

Those two popularity spikes I mentioned were my pantless TSA protest (almost half a million views on the video!) and my Assange rape skepticism post (mostly wigged out about by feminists).

No one whose opinion I care about has attacked me, but I did earn praise from three people I admire.  Penn Jillette called me a hero on Twitter for my TSA protest, Dan Savage quoted my thoughts on rape in a post titled "What She Said,", and Laura Agustín commented in support of my rape piece.  I'm going to cherry pick and say I got all the external validation I could want between those three.  And, of course, there was a torrent of people commenting all around the web about how I'm a monster who's basically responsible for everything bad that's ever happened to anyone.  It's pretty rad that I somehow manage to simultaneously be the most insignificant yawn-fest people have ever deigned to notice, and also powerful enough to be personally responsible for stuff like "rape culture" and terrorist airplane hijackings.  I'm an enigma like that.

A couple of months ago, I received an unsolicited email from a literary agent asking me if I had a book proposal she could check out.  Seeing as how getting my shit together and writing a sample chapter and proper proposal was already on my "things to do in the near-ish future" list, it was very flattering to have someone express interest without me even trying.  And, maybe it will go no where and no publisher will want to print anything I say - I'm not going to get over-excited.  (I have a major loathing of how commonly people brag about how they're "writing a book," like just saying it out loud means you're halfway to winning a Nobel Prize.  Ain't nothing special about writing a book, kids - you don't get any bragging rights until all those words are, you know, being purchased in stores in book format.)  Even with that cynicism in mind, I'm flattered by the interest.  I wonder, snidely, how often literary agents track down blog comment trolls to say things like, "Your scathing paragraph of how [so-and-so] is ugly and stupid was absolutely brilliant!  Please send me a book proposal and sample chapter as soon as you have one.  You have a unique voice!"

(Seriously - has anyone ever gotten a book deal based on their "work" as a commenter on blogs?  Has anyone ever parlayed posting comments on other people's web sites into anything substantive or memorable?)

If I get presents sometimes, am I allowed to think of my blog as a paid gig yet?  A poorly paid gig - like begging for spare change - but hey, it's awesome to get things in my mail drop.  Thank you to the people who sent my latest cool new things: G, N, T, and A.  One of them came without a receipt/note, so I'm sorry for the person I'm missing.  (Feel free to utilize the "leave a gift message" option so you can tell me your email and I can thank you individually.)  The cool things I received:

* A mini cupcake pan by Calphalon.

* An animal cookie cutter set which includes a snail, hedgehog, moose, fox, bear, and a squirrel.  Snail cookies!

* Sex at Dawn by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jethá.

* Lonely Planet Australia.  (I was originally planning to go to Australia for this winter's vacation, but I'm going to Sri Lanka instead.  I will go to Australia next year, though.  I need my All Seven Continents merit badge.)

* Opening Up by Tristan Taormino

* Gender Outlaw by Kate Bornstein.  (The sender bought me two of these without instructions on what to do with the second copy.  I gave the extra to a trans friend of mine.)

My 27th birthday is coming up next month, and as always, I love gifts!  I have a wishlist on Amazon that's handy-dandy for browsing things I want, and they ship those items directly to me.  It's so easy to use, you really have no excuse for not buying me stuff.  My top two at the moment are the first couple of books listed in chronological order of being added, which are about Sri Lanka.

I felt like doing a light-hearted blog.  And, that 5% of me that's girlie needed to start a Tumblr.

Go take a gander (and submit photos!) at StuffSexWorkersEat.tumblr.com

I'm a huge fan of food and sex workers, and I think this will make for a nice distraction that satisfies my interest in both, while working towards the political aim of humanizing us.

In the last month or so, I've done some none-too-subtle waving and pointing at my Amazon wishlist.  Hey, if I had any sense of shame, do you think I'd be where I am today?  I am a defective human being in that I seem to lack both the "fear of 'authority'" and "shame" centers of my brain, which seem to be the driving forces behind all-too-many people's decisions.

So, I wanted to give a public thanks to the several lovely people who sent me some cool books.  It's nice to feel appreciated for the energy I put into my writing and being a naked chick on the internet.  I've received:

* The History of Sexuality Volume One by Michel Foucault

* A Woman Speaks: The Lectures, Seminars and Interviews of Anais Nin

* Dada and Surrealism: A Very Short Introduction by David Hopkins

* The Baba and the Comrade: Gender and Politics in Revolutionary Russia by Elizabeth A Wood.  (This came without contact info from the gifter, sorry I can't email you personally to say thanks!)

* Planet Ice: A Climate for Change by James Martin

* Rebel Lives: Albert Einstein edited by Jim Green. (This also came without contact info from the gifter.)

I was christened into the jizz biz in May of 2002, at 18, with a day of shooting softcore porn in LA.  (I wish I could remember the exact date.)  I opened the doors of my first porn venture in January of 2003, at 19, and over the next few years years, gradually moved away from socializing in forums for amateur pornographers, and towards more politicized and woman-friendly spaces.  So, while I didn't start my own blog until last year, I lurked, I read, I occasionally commented where The Smart People were.  These bloggers I followed were "my people".  At last!

The amateur porn scene contains a lot of conservative swingers - a subset of which I once heard candidly (or drunkenly?) described as a bunch of ignorant hicks who "very accidentally got rich" by profiting off their wives.  Not all of them, of course - I admire many of the pioneering porn amateurs like Jen N Dave for seizing the day and starting the very first adult sites 15 years ago while the big porn companies were still mailing out wank material on VHS tapes.  (And, as far as I know, Kat Vixen was the first porn site with a leading lady who declared herself a feminist in her bio page, probably before most of today's renowned feminist pornographers could even legally appear in a porn.)

So, to hell with fighting with Fox News-loving people on adult webmaster boards, and desperately trying to connect with like-minded people - I was going to start a blog!

One of the things I knew about getting into blogging was that it would mean I would undoubtably have falling outs with other bloggers.  It's hard-coded into the sex blogger community to have epic public drama with one another - drama that can dangerously bubble over into the offline world.  After having circulated a bit in the sex worker and sex blogger scene, both online and offline at a few events, I felt reasonably liked by pretty much everyone, or at least tolerated.  I liked most of the people I met, too.  I was aware that I had some significant ideological/political clashes with some of them, but they weren't aware they had those clashes with me, so we could all share a meal together in peace.  I knew that peace would end if I started blogging my thoughts about things - most specifically, about feminism - and was sad to acknowledge that some of these people I'd happily guzzled pitchers of booze with would some day be people with whom I'd have dramatic clashes.

Such is the price you pay for telling the world what you really think about everything.  I've been accused by many of having "no filter" and needing to learn how to be fake-polite in the interest of facilitating smooth social interactions with assholes I want nothing to do with.  (Why I would want to do that is beyond me.)  I'm happy to have a career where I can pretty much disregard such advice, resting soundly in knowing that while my real self drives some people away, it also attracts more genuine friendships with the people I actually like.

So, it's with my caustic, cunty self in mind, that I introduce my ten most popular/controversial/commented-upon blog posts from the last year.  (Topping the list with the most divisive thing I'll probably ever utter in the American sex worker scene.  I don't regret a thing I said, but I don't want to keep re-hashing it either, so I'm listing it for completeness rather than a desire to re-open the fight.)

* Speaking of faux ho bloggers, what about Amber Rhea? [December 2009]

* I want to read a book written by someone like me, except smarter and better at writing [April 2010]

* Want to play BINGO with the antis? [February 2010]

* Three out of four ain't bad: my thoughts on Audacia Ray's post on the dominant narratives of sex work [April 2010]

* Does everyone actually want to be an escort, given the right circumstances? [April 2010]

* What's so "feminist" about being anti-sex? The 2010 Feminist Porn Award nominees and the "porn for women" niche [March 2010]

* Religions on sexuality: same-same, but different (the Dalai Lama and Buddhism edition) [February 2010]

* Biography of a pornographic polemic [May 2009]

* Daddy's little capitalist [October 2009]

* Somewhat disjointed grievances on porno pay rates, transparency, and a pinch of boring labor politics [September 2009]

Some of these don't develop fully unless you read all the comments.  If you have something to say about any of these past topics, please comment in those post's own comments area, not here on this post.

As for what's coming next, I'm currently interviewing a bunch of my favorite indie pornographers for what I think is an important piece about the realities of queer/feminist/"different" porn.  It's been floating around in my head for a while, but I want to devote a big blog post to screaming at a certain elephant in the room.

I've kept up the habit of posting around something once a week, which I hope to stick with as I enter year two.  We'll see how things go.  Writing, for me, is a time-consuming project with almost no financial rewards.  It would be nice to be able to change that, because it is something I enjoy.

As always, if you want to properly congratulate me on how awesome my blog is and how brilliant I am, I will continue to shamelessly solicit gifts from my Amazon wishlist.  (Sort the list by priority to see what I want most.)  If you hate me and all that I stand for, you should apologize for such insolence by donating money to my favorite charity, San Francisco's St. James Infirmary, a clinic that serves sex workers.  Either way, I win!  Mwahaha!

When I was pondering what to name my blog, I devoted several days of intense shower-thinking to the matter before settling on "Feminisnt". To me, if a feminIST means one who is a proponent of feminism, a feminISNT is one who is not, without necessarily being anti-feminist. Huzzah! Clever unique term coined! Point me!

But, alas, like most good ideas, this one had been thought of before.

A Google search for the term netted the term almost exclusively as a typo by people who can't spell feminist.

There already existed one blog with the title: feminisnt.blogspot.com A few months later, another one with the title came along, feminisnt.wordpress.com

Most notably is a Vancouver group/person who puts "FEMINISN'T" stickers/stencils on advertisements that feature images of women. Nothing says "nuanced discussion of sexuality and gender politics" like stickering random advertisements that feature images of attractive women, I suppose. It doesn't matter what the women in the ads may think about the subject, if they're volunteers with any real causes, or donate to help women's organizations - they're sexy, so they obviously they're bad. Much like the graphic porn photos anti-porn campaigners use without consent of the human beings they feature, the women here have had their likenesses reappropriated without their consent and have been objectified to suit the will of the outsider. Mmmm... solidarity with all womankind, that.

So, yes- I know I'm not the first person to use the term, and I will try harder to be clever in the future.

For a long time, I resisted starting a blog. I don't want to be another node in the pink ghetto who writes my take on the story of the week in between tales of getting fucked and the latest free photo galleries from porn sites I jack off to. It's not that I think there's anything wrong with those things, it's just that other people already have it covered.

However, I think there still exists plenty of room for blogs about sexual politics written by sex workers themselves. We're a group of people who are ignored and excluded from all sorts of dialogues, and hated fiercely by people on the right and the left, so I have more of a motive to write in defense of sexual autonomy than I do to write a review of how I attempted to get off using the latest high-tech strangely-shaped sex toy.

After working on the outskirts of the porno industry since 2002, I have steadily been moving from wanting to modernize and re-define the concept of feminism to wanting to stop beating that dead horse entirely. Many of my friends and favorite people consider themselves feminists. A lot of my enemies consider themselves feminists, too, and they exist in larger numbers, with better funding, and with better brand recognition as the face of feminism. (Why fight like mad to have your awesome new organic fairtrade beverage be recognized as "Coca Cola", when there already is a firmly established Coca Cola company that sucks? Why not just focus on being great under your own power, with your own title?) I spent way too much of my own time trying to shoehorn myself into feminism, and I look back on that as an embarrassing waste of my energy.

Feminism as a word/identity is used to describe so much of everything that it has ceased to mean anything at all. Is fucking people for money feminist? Is climbing the corporate ladder feminist? Is wearing an abaya feminist? Is shaving your pussy feminist? Is being a stay-at-home mom feminist? Is BSDM feminist? Are sewing and crafting feminist? Is makeup feminist? Is being a woman in the military feminist? Is broccoli soup feminist?!?! You have people lined up, ready to fight to the death over their absolute certainty over whether or not such things are truly feminist. (What the word "feminism" stands in for, of course, is deemed permissible by the "right" kind of people.)

In general, I'm tired of "feminist" being used as a blanket qualifier to mean "awesome", especially when it comes to the concept of feminist porn. I think "awesome" works just fine as a qualifier for awesome.

I seek to advance the idea the first person in any debate to propose that their position is correct because it's the most "feminist" has hereby lost the argument. I have been guilty of this one plenty of times in the past, but I can learn from my mistakes.

I feel like I've taken back something, like friends have taken back "fag", "fatty", or "cripple". I've taken back "not a feminist" and claimed it for myself, and in doing so, have disarmed a lot of people who've hurled it at me as an insult in debates. I wasted a lot of my time and energy arguing over whether or not I'm a real feminist and if my work - and the work of other sex workers - can be construed as feminist acts. So now, rather than get all upset when an asshat says I'm not a feminist, I can shrug it off and say, "yeah, so what?" I feel like this dismissal "empowers" and "liberates" me more than anything else that modern feminism could ever hope to provide me.

One of the things that's been batting itself around in my head over the years is, "What purpose does 'feminism' serve, today, in industrialized nations? Why the need to identify as a 'feminist'?" I've never seen a satisfactory answer. Much like quizzing someone on their religion, the answers are some defensive permutation of "it just is!" For some folks, that's sufficient, and I won't try to wrest their important identity label from them, but I need tangible reasons to do and believe things.

Writer Jorge Luis Borges famously described the Falklands War as "two bald men fighting over a comb", and that image perfectly describes the war for the title of "feminist", too. Why are we supposed to want what it is that we're fighting for?

I've pumped a lot of quarters into this here claw machine, but sheer stubbornness kept me from realizing that I didn't even want a small stuffed animal.

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