Being Amber Rhea

Geocities, and snippets of personal internet history

So, Yahoo is shuttering Geocities. Like many people, my first reaction when I heard this news was, “Geocities is still around?” I hadn’t thought about it in years, other than to make a passing reference when proclaiming how much a sucky web site sucks (“that’s like a bad Geocities web site circa 1996!”) And in fact, several years ago as a joke, Cari made a blog them called “Bad Geocities Web Site Circa 1996.”

My second reaction was a pang of nostalgia, because I hadn’t thought about Geocities as anything but a joke in so long, and now I was remembering what it was, and where I was, when I first opened an account there. And suddenly I was really wishing I could remember my Geocities URL.

I know it was in Athens. But I can’t remember the random 4-digit number after the slash. I’ve tried every conceivable way of searching for it… nothing. The crappy thing about The Wayback Machine is you have to know the URL. I wish there was a way to search The Wayback Machine based on keywords, site name, etc.

What Maria Diaz said in her post about Geocities really rang true to me:

What this ending of Geocities does make me realize is, for all our scary talk of how we need to watch what our slutty, drunken selves put online because oh no someone who may pay us to do something might see it, is how not permanent so much of the web truly is. This is why I think talking about the Internet’s history is so important. So much of what happened is gone now. We have to discuss it, there’s so little evidence of it but our memories and a few pages with dead links.

While my mid to late 90s internet presence might be embarrassing in some ways, it’s part of who I am, and it played a profound role in shaping who I would become. And personally, I’m past thinking it’s embarrassing; distance helps with that. (Although, geez, did I really email Flagpole w/ a “From” line that said “Mr. Evil Breakfast?” I did – and hey, they let me do my senior project there anyway!) I’ve joked about red Times New Roman text on a violent green* background, angsty poetry, the <blink> tag, and a CGI form where “nerds” could solicit sexual banter. But I don’t want that stuff to be lost forever, because to pretend it never existed feels dishonest and sad.

A Google search for “Amber Luis” turns up a link to my high school alumni page (and a bunch of other people named Amber Luis), but other than that, as far as Google is concerned I never had an online presence under that name. And as much as I’ve wanted to shun that name and tuck it away in a closet where I never have to look at it again, I know I shouldn’t/can’t do that completely.

One problem is, as I was telling Rusty the other night, that those of us who were the early girls on the web (although I never really thought of myself as one of those, because it seemed like a cool kids club; I wasn’t making zines or running a webcam or anything) didn’t know we should be documenting and preserving this stuff. It was just daily life – as is any part of daily life, which you don’t appreciate as valuable until years later, but how could you have had the foresight? More recently, I cursed the stylesheets that are gone forever before I made backups of all my previous blog designs. It’s why I can’t bring myself to throw out my stack of old wall calendars and address books. I had sense enough to preserve the SimpleText-based journal I kept in 9th and 10th grade (I printed it out and put it in a binder), but somehow that was more concrete in my mind, whereas the online stuff was… I don’t know, something else. I had no frame of reference.

A few years ago, I searched The Wayback Machine for all my old URLs that I could remember (GeoCities not among them, nor Tripod). The oldest version of my site that I have is from April 1997. This was after I’d already moved to Galena, a 386 running Linux that was the web server for Thomas Jefferson School in St. Louis, where my friends Tom and Gabe were students. They got extra credit for running the server – and it’s not like anyone else had the time, knowledge, or inclination to do it! They made me an account on Galena and I thereby graduated to a real server, not one of those free hosting services. And by then, at least I was using a black background instead of green.

Senior year of high school, some friends and I “crashed” this girl’s birthday party (stupid, and another story altogether) – but nobody cared whether or not we had been invited anyway, and in fact I don’t think anyone knew we hadn’t been invited. At one point, her mom gave me a withering look, hands on hips, and said, “You have a web site, don’t you?” She said “web site” the way you might say “yeast infection.” I wanted to shrink into the floor. Clearly she had read the bit about me almost getting caught having sex in a car. Or maybe simply having a web site was offense enough.

In the days before blogs, I kept a running narrative of sorts, by updating my homepage semi-frequently. Example from April 1998:

It’s tax day, folks. Whatever… for me, it’s a day of sitting home being disgustingly sick and agonizing over my term paper, which is due in two days. We have only three more weeks of school left – really, what’s the point? [Sniff] Anyway, updates on my life: I just returned from a ten-day jaunt around Europe – France and Barcelona, to be exact. It was a lot of fun, though hectic at times. I would put pictures up here if my scanner weren’t broken.

Yes, pink text. Ho hum. And I have to laugh at the way I make my life sound so cosmopolitan – a “jaunt around Europe.” Oh give me a break! Even then I knew we could spin things how we want online, show people only the parts we want them to see.

As for my design skills, they didn’t get much better after I went off to college. In fact, I had more animated gifs in December 1998 than on any previous incarnation. Eventually I gave up trying to pretend I was a designer at all. At least I never made stupid embossed buttons in Corel Draw.

But let’s go back a few steps.

Before I had a web site (or “homepage,” to use the parlance of the times), I had an AOL account and spent a lot of time hanging out on the R.E.M. message boards and chat room (which was called Catbutt). These were my people! People who understood! I got in trouble one month for running up a huge bill – AOL still charged by the hour at the time. My parents were not pleased, and I had to take it down a few notches.

I have a Polaroid picture of me and an online friend from those message boards. She had come to Athens (which might as well have been Mecca for those folks) to visit another board member, and drove to Augusta to meet me. I need to find that picture and scan it. She was the first online friend I met “IRL.” I had to meet her when my parents weren’t home, because I knew they would not approve. They didn’t know much about the internet, only that it was probably full of freaks.

I still have a necklace and a little trinket box another online friend sent me in the mail. We originally met on the same R.E.M. message boards but eventually started just emailing each other. We’d chronicle our days to each other in long, drawn-out emails. Her username was Yttria; she lived in the Chicago area. I felt like we had such a bond. I thought she was so cool, and was thrilled that she seemed to think I was cool, too (and secretly I worried that she wouldn’t think that if she knew me IRL). I wonder what ever happened to her? Google knows only about the transition metal in the singular form.

In a private chat room (remember how you could make those on AOL?), I had something not unlike cybersex w/ another message board member. Later when I saw a picture of him (dressed as Mike Mills for Halloween), I was disappointed, because he was not nearly as hot as the mental image I’d had of him. I didn’t feel too bad, though; the experience had still been fun. And at least I understood that expectations do not always mirror reality (as I relearned several times when attempting to snag someone for sex IRL via AOL).

-Just now, linked from my April 1998 site version, I found this piece of writing:

Introduction to an Autobiography
by Amber Luis

I didn’t know what it was that I was waiting for out there in the rain; all I knew was that I was indeed waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting – I had been waiting for over an hour. I had been waiting my whole life. For what? I shivered and drew my knees up to my chest, hugging them. I watched an ant scurry around on the pavement, dancing precariously on the line between wet and dry. Fat rain drops fell from the rusty overhang that sheltered me. I mused momentarily on the fact that a homeless person would probably resent me – corduroys, long-sleeved shirt, nice thick boots, a shower earlier today, and I chose to be out in the rain. In a way I disgusted myself. “So artistic, so bohemian; what, do you think your life’s a movie? Do you think you’re on Candid Camera?” –That’s what my mind muttered, heavy with contempt. Sure, it would have been easy enough for me to just stand up and walk back into the cafe and order a nice hot mocha, but something in me couldn’t bear to go back in there with the fluorescent lights, the soft Muzak, the quiet buzz of friendly conversation. Instead I was out here, waiting, waiting. I only wished I knew for what. Waiting for someone to save me, I guess, but knowing that no one would show. Too scared to let that someone be me.

I had completely forgotten about that. And yes, it drips of teen angst – but that doesn’t mean it’s unimportant or just vapid melodrama. An outsider might think that, but they don’t know what I know; they haven’t lived my life. Reading it, I remember that night perfectly. I was sitting outside Barnes and Noble (one of my only “safe spaces” so to speak) and there was shit going on. I remember it perfectly. I didn’t know how to write about it any other way than what I knew at the time.

This is why we need to preserve these records of ours lives, however embarrassing they might be – because they help us remember the things we didn’t know we forgot. And if you’ve ever heard me ramble about my worries about the impermanence of digital media, well, this is why.

I can’t remember my Geocities URL, so that part of my life is lost to the ether. I hope we won’t keep making the same mistakes – but I also don’t know how to truly prevent it.

* Catch the reference? It’s one I would have made in 1996. I loved obscure references, and things that are amusing only to me, then as much as I do now. Some things don’t change!

*continues work on carving out nice little echo chamber of my own*

Good lord. I got sucked into the various “o-spheres” (from which I had mostly extricated myself over a year ago, btu occasionally visited due to links from blogs I actually enjoy reading because they’re interesting, thoughtful, funny, challenging, insightful, personal, etc.) tonight and was reminded why this blog break has been so important in the first place. The levels of ridiculousness, drama, passive-aggressiveness, double standards, and overall STUPID BULLSHIT continues to astound. You want a concrete example? (EVERYBODY DOES!) – look at this comment from Belledame at ye olde untouchable BA’s blog -

BA is speaking for herself. It doesn’t matter if you think she’s wrong or what; it’s intrusive and invasive as hell (at minimum) to keep pushing at her like that.

Oh really! Well that’s rich. And quite interesting. ‘Cause when some of us (ME, that is – god forbid *I* be passive-aggressive too and not NAME NAMES!) do the same thing, we’re the subject of 100+ comment blog threads straight of high school and random interlopers coming over to dissect whether we REALLY know the truth of OUR OWN LIVES, demand EVIDENCE, break out the litmus test for Are You Really [insert fave oppression here]®, and better have those creds at the ready. </royal_we>

One thing I can say for myself about that thread on Belledame’s blog that I finally visited about 2 weeks after those jackasses came over here – it didn’t *hurt* me or anything. Not anymore. I looked at it and thought, you sad sad people. This is what you’re doing? How old are you. And it’s mostly the same small handful of people, I noticed. Belledame’s a classic bully and queen bee. Fortunately I graduated from high school many years ago. And being asked to leave (’cause it “just wasn’t working out”) that Den of Dysfunction Top Secret email list in late 2007 was a very good thing, it turns out.

But yeah – blog break continues, at least for a while, bc there is jut so much BULLSHIT. I feel I should write *something* in light of my approaching 7th blogiversary – not sure what yet. Maybe I’ll NAME MORE NAMES and INCITE DRAMA. Who knows. What I do know is, at the moment I’m refocusing and re-centering (as I said at Amani’s today). I need that once in a while. This blog was started for ME and no one else, and as such that’s how it shall remain, in whatever form it continues to take.

Pole tax, hardy har har… and activism

I feel obligated to write something about the astoundingly moronic SB 91, but whenever I try, I just find myself at a loss for words. I’m overcome w/ exasperation and wonder why I should waste my damn time. But then I think, well, if no one “wastes their time” spelling out, yet again, everything that is WRONG w/ this bullshit, then it’ll just keep on happening, like it always does. And far too many people, who are otherwise intelligent and thoughtful people, just accept these stupid lines about sex work that are built into society without any questioning. It’s not a conscious, “Yes, I accept that;” it’s just, you know, everyone knows that’s how it is, so what is there to question? Or maybe a political blogger here and there writes about it as an amusing one-off, w/ some stupid un-funny joke (e.g., “pole tax”) before moving on to the REAL IMPORTANT issues.

I get so fed up w/ constantly rehashing the 101-level stuff, but yet, I know it’s important. That’s how people’s minds are changed, when they’re able to see a perspective they had never considered before. (And, to clarify: I really don’t mind it one-on-one, w/ friends or people I know are engaging in good faith. Like when Lain DM’ed me on Twitter the other day asking why one would oppose an anti-sex trafficking event, and wondered if it was because law enforcement targets non-trafficked sex workers. I was happy to send him informational links.)

A related story. When Griftdrift wrote that Jack Murphy said there’s a direct correlation between strip clubs and child prostitution (don’t you just LOVE how these people pull this nonsense out of their asses and everyone just nods their heads sagely??) it reminded me of a freelance work offer Rusty and I had a few years ago. It was for an organization that purportedly provided resources to victims of child sex trafficking. I don’t know if it was Innocence Atlanta, but they did have Innocence in their name. Will Hinton was the one told us about it. So, who could be opposed to that, right? But we were skeptical from the beginning, because we know to be. We combed through all the verbiage on their existing site and found some shit that would slip under many people’s radar… like, “a business owner might give a reformed stripper a second chance with a job.” Wait, what? I thought you were an org focused on child victims of sex trafficking. What’s this talk of strippers? And reformed, what’s that shit?

We turned down the job. Couldn’t do it in good conscience.

I wish there was an active sex workers’ rights group here in Atlanta. I really tried w/ the 2007 International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers, I really did. I was encouraged because two other people organized it w/ me, so hey, that’s two others that are interested in fighting the good fight! It was, in fact, one of them that proposed doing something in the first place! And we had a sign-up sheet for an email list that night, and lots of people signed up, and there was talk of doing a march through midtown on Dec. 17 the following year, and then… nothing.

A grad student (at least I think she’s a grad student) from the UGA Women’s Studies department, whom I met briefly at Sex 2.0, emailed me to let me know about an upcoming conference on sex trafficking in Macon. She thought a protest would be a good idea, and she wanted to know what I had in mind, too, as far as local action for sex workers’ rights activism (in response to my March 3 post where I sighed about the lack of activity in Atlanta). I told her, well, I wish there were more of us. I wish there was a critical mass. I wish we had a SWOP chapter, or something.

But I can’t do everything. And I’m worn out.

And sometimes I feel like that’s a cop out – even as I try my best to remember Melissa’s words of wisdom.

I’ve said before that I’m a reluctant activist, or even not really an activist at all, because I’m not made for front-lines shit. It’s true, because time and again I see how that shit exhausts me mentally, emotionally, and physically. And yet I still feel driven and have this extreme inner conflict. I wish I were one of those people who could organize, fight, rally the troops, not get discouraged; I feel like, why say I can’t do it, because then no one’s doing it, and this is important work that needs to be done.

Then it just all goes down the rabbit hole and I start thinking about the nature of civil disobedience and my mind drifts to the French Revolution… yeah.

If people don’t make their voices heard and agitate for change, then (surprise!) nothing changes. But maybe I also need to remember that there are many different ways to make one’s voice heard and agitate for change, and that real substantive change doesn’t happen overnight. I just worry that too many people are going to take the back seat and say, “Oh, I’ll just blog about it,” when it takes REAL WORLD action, too. But at the same time, some of us just aren’t cut out for a whole lot of real world action – but we want to do our part among a critical mass of others who ARE.

*sigh*

Sundries

(Am I the only one who always reads “sundries” as “sun-dries,” like the plural for sun-dried tomatoes?)

Been busy w/ work and the new house. Hate saying something like that because it sounds so cliché, and also because I hate when people use “I’m busy” as a go-to excuse for everything. Hello, everyone is busy, it’s nothing special.

Anyway, here are some summaries of what’s been happening.

~*~

Monday I went to the Feminism2.0 conference in Washington, DC, with Ren. The subject matter and issues discussed were not new to me, but overall it was interesting and I’m glad I went. I liveblogged the following sessions:

• Feminism on the Move – Where we were and where are we now?
• Media and Culture: Feminists and the Media – Speaking Out
• Bloggers and Activists: An Intimate and Frank Conversation

I also posted a few photos on Flickr, many of which show the linkfluence node map thingy that was blowing everyone’s mind. I thought the top 30 list was pretty neat – and that’s all. Such things should be taken with the appropriate serving of salt. Or to put it another way, Technorati rankings are not character judgments.

Predictably, there are now conversations ensuing about who was “excluded,” and it’s driving me batty. I really try not to get all “snarky tech geek” on people, but this isn’t an issue of exclusion/inclusion. And honestly at this point it seems like there’s no pleasing some people. As I said at Renee’s, if WOC bloggers are not highly ranked by algorithms like that, it’s likely because of a lack of interlinking, which may happen because WOC bloggers feel that other feminist blogs are hostile environments and therefore don’t link to them. This is not condoning anything, it’s a straightforward explanation. Example: if you make your blog private, it’s not indexed by Google. That’s just the way the internet works.

Frankly, I’m sick of these conversations because they always seem to be Oppression Olympics and too often it seems like people who don’t understand the way SEO works are making outrageous, spurious claims. And more and more, I get a sense of people not wanting to be proactive, but rather just passively snarking about how everything is so unfair.

And I hate that saying that makes me sound (to some, perhaps) like the assholes who deny that privilege exists; the people who, when someone points out an instance of white privilege, male privilege, hetero privilege, whatever, take it as a personal attack. I can’t STAND those people! I hate that there seems to be such a dichotomy set up, though, that you can’t have a legitimate critique with being painted as identical to those people. And I’m afraid it will make people not listen to me when I raise legitimate critiques (e.g., exclusion of sex workers’ voices; myriad instances of male privilege and institutionalized sexism, especially the “unintentional” kind). -Of course, the corollary to that is, if people can’t make a distinction between a legitimate critique and passive snarking, that’s their problem; but we all know that common sense is not so common.

~*~

SoCon09 is tomorrow. I’m glad Rusty and I are going this year; we went in 2007, but missed it last year in favor of going to PodCamp Nashville. That turned out to be a mistake, because PodCamp Nashville sucked. We still had fun in Nashville and the rest of the road trip, but seeing all the tweets and liveblogs from SoCon08 made us realize we’d chosen the wrong unconference for that weekend!

I’m leading a session tomorrow called “Online Etiquette: How to Balance Your Personal and Professional Image Online.” I didn’t pick the name. The session was already named and Sherry “assigned” it to me. I would not have used the word “etiquette” in this context, because to me that belongs in a completely separate discussion, and I’m bothered by the way the two are often conflated. But, I plan to bring that up in the session! Hopefully there will be some good discussion generated (and hopefully I won’t end up with a massive headache). If it’s anything like my BlogOrlando session, I’ll be pleased.

And, I have an order in at Office Depot for 80 more Buzzword Bingo cards. Josh initially prodded me; J motivated me and offered to chip in to help pay for them! Nik offered twenty bucks, too. So I’ll give the people what they want! There won’t be a formal game or anything, but it’ll be interesting to see how many Bingos people get throughout the day. ;)

~*~

Progress is being made (how ’bout that passive voice!) on the bedroom at the new house. The first coat of paint is complete and we’ll be putting the second coat on this weekend.

I feel like we’ve been very fortunate w/ this whole home-buying process. Everyone has been very nice to us. We’ve gotten gifts, for crying out loud!

From Stacia, our agent:

She also gave us two types of birdseed, a card, and a Lowe’s gift card.

The home inspection company made postcards with a picture of the house, the address, and “Just Moved” on them; and return address labels with a picture of the house.

Last weekend, we discovered champagne and chocolates in the fridge, from the seller:

And last night, when I went over to the house there was a package on the doorstep…

It was from the listing agent. It’s a stained-glass bird!

The bird is actually their logo, but it doesn’t look like a logo. (Rusty and I have discussed how this is very smart marketing.) They gave one to the seller at the closing, and I guess after finding out that we’re “bird people” they decided to give one to us, too. It was a really nice surprise.

On a geeky note, I should mention that I uploaded some of the closing pictures to Facebook, and immediately friend requested and tagged most of the people in this group shot.

~*~

New favorite recipe: Macaroni and Cheese with Cauliflower, from Real Simple Magazine. It’s really more of a casserole. Rusty was skeptical at first, but after he made it, all the skepticism was gone. It makes enough to feed a small army. After we ate a bunch of it the first night (photo is of my first serving only), we made six individually packaged portions and put them in the freezer. We ate the last of it yesterday. Maybe we’ll make some for our eventual housewarming party.

~*~

Not sure if I ever blogged about this, but Rusty posted a really fascinating interview with his great-aunt Jane, who was working at Grady Hospital the night of the Winecoff Hotel fire in 1946. She ended up taking in almost all of the bodies at the morgue. This is the kind of priceless history that is imperative to preserve.

After watching the video a few times, I had a dream that I was in the Winecoff Hotel fire, only it was happening now, and I knew in advance what would happen, and there was a social media conference going on at the Winecoff (Tessa and other Atlanta social media people were there), and I kept trying to convince the people on the upper levels to get out now because the fire was slowly coming up the building and I knew the people on the higher levels wouldn’t be able to escape, but they were all nonchalant and ignored me.

~*~

Am I becoming old and boring because I post about things like recipes and painting the bedroom of the house my long-term partner and I just bought? Hey, at least I’m not posting photos of my kids and blogging about the cute things they did today. Stop me if I ever get to that point! (Probably moot because I don’t plan to have kids – but of course, I reserve the right to change my mind.)

Top 10 blog topics of 2008

Inspired by Griftdrift, I decided to make a list of the top blog stories/topics/themes of 2008 ’round the parts of the blogosphere I frequent. The great thing about blogging and top 10 lists? There’s no wrong answer, because of the diversity of the communities we move in. So here they are, in (mostly) chronological order:

1. Spitzer scandal

On March 10, the story broke about New York governor Eliot Spitzer being involved in a (get your Bingo cards ready) “prostitution ring.” The pro- sex workers’ rights blogs were all over it from the beginning, especially Bound, Not Gagged, which was the #1 resource for updates as they unfolded. Sex workers’ rights groups across the country and world issued statements and press releases supporting Kristen and denouncing Spitzer’s hypocrisy. Bloggers challenged the same-old, same-old coverage put forth by mainstream media – oversimplification, titillation, and reinforcement of stereotypes – as well as MSM’s clumsy and transparently insincere attempts to “reach out” to sex workers. Behind the scenes, via email, text messages, and Twitter DMs, sex workers and their allies wasted no time in organizing a media team, and gave last-minute interviews from far-flung locations. Even though the voices of sex workers’ rights advocates were largely overshadowed by the usual rehashed “arguments” about prostitution, for the first time we began to make a dent in the coverage, thanks in large part to the greater connectivity offered by social media.

2. Atlanta tornado

On March 14, a tornado ripped through downtown Atlanta. I first heard about it on Twitter; Dave, who was at the Flatiron at the time, sent this tweet: “Tornado just came through the flat iron. We’re all fine but it was insane.” Coverage via social media and citizen journalism was almost overwhelming in its immediacy and thoroughness. People were taking photos, shooting video,Twittering, etc. Because of the coverage from the people on the ground, mainstream media reluctantly had to admit that the tornado hit parts of town other than the business district – although their coverage of the damage in places such as Vine City was still miniscule compared to citizen journalism coverage.

3. Seal Press/WAM!2008 debacle

Some bloggers who are women of color went to WAM!2008 and had some complaints about it. Blackamazon said “fuck Seal Press” and the feminist blogosphere blew up. Seal Press responded and the bloggers Apostate refers to as the noisy group didn’t like the response, and the blogosphere blew up again. Then other publications wrote (poorly and inaccurately, for the most part) about what happened and the blogosphere blew up a third time.

I stayed out of this one for the most part, because I’m pretty sure my thoughts on the matter wouldn’t have been popular with most people on either opposing “side” of the brouhaha, and I didn’t feel like dealing with drama.

4. Amanda Marcotte, Brownfemipower, and “intellectual appropriation”

On the heels of the Seal Press girlcott, there was also Amandagate (have I mentioned I hate the use of -gate as a suffix for any scandal?), wherein some bloggers accused Amanda Marcotte of having plagiarized Brownfemipower. I stayed out of this one for the most part, too.

5. New UK porn law

In May, the UK passed a new law banning so-called “extreme” porn. Bloggers on both sides of the pond covered the Criminal Justice and Immigration Bill (of which the porn ban was a part) as it made its way through the Houses of Parliament. Protests were held and people of all stripes spoke out against the ban, but ultimately it passed. So you’d better be careful about what’s on your hard drive, even if you don’t live in the UK; this law sets a dangerous precedent.

6. Deborah Jeane Palfrey’s death

On May 1, the body of Deborah Jeane Palfrey (a.k.a. the DC Madam) was found at her mother’s home in Tarpon Springs, Florida, dead from an apparent suicide. I first heard the news on Twitter, from Melissa. As with the Spitzer scandal, Bound, Not Gagged was again the central location for information – and, in this case, mourning. An online memorial was created shortly after her death, and starting on the night of May 12, a 24-hour vigil of remembrance was held.

It’s hard to talk about death without slipping into what sounds like clichés and platitudes, even if they’re actually sincere, but what I want to say is: We might never know whether Palfrey actually took her own life or was murdered, but sex workers’ rights activists will keep asking the questions that need to be asked, in memory of her life which was needlessly cut short.

7. Kyle Payne

Kyle Payne is a self-professed anti-porn feminist ally, who “is particularly interested in men’s roles in confronting pornography and the rape culture” and served as a rape crisis counselor for four years. It just so happens that he was arrested for assaulting a female student at Buena Vista University. After Eleanor’s Trousers first mentioned it, the news spread like wildfire through the feminist blogosphere. In the weeks leading up to Payne’s sentencing, feminist bloggers stayed on top of the story and sparked a letter-writing campaign to the judge that would preside. Ultimately, Payne was sentenced to six months in jail. It should have been more; but feminist bloggers brought attention to a case that would have otherwise gone virtually unnoticed, and that’s a testament to the power of blogging.

8. The C-word: “Credibility”

So here’s what happened. Andre Walker, who is well-known in the Georgia blogosphere (if not necessarily well-respected), was exposed as having received money from Congressman David Scott’s campaign without having disclosed it. Because Andre wrote several favorable posts about Scott and was credentialed as a journalist by the Georgia Legislature, this is your classic conflict of interest problem. I have to admit I was nonplussed by the revelation, since I never understood why anyone would consider Andre’s blog a beacon of journalistic integrity to begin with. But although I said that with my tongue firmly in my cheek, it’s exactly those sorts of words – “integrity,” “credibility,” “ethics” – that were suddenly being tossed around by the likes of Ken Edelstein. Andre’s actions apparently served as an indictment of all bloggers (stop me if you’ve heard this one before). The debate flared for a while and then died back down, but it’s only a matter of time before the embers are stoked again. Unfortunately, the actions of a few bad apples reinforce the negative pre-conceived notions held by new media naysayers.

9. Pink slips in the pink ghetto

I know, the title for this one is cheesy. I should’ve just stuck with “Sex writers getting canned,” but somehow I couldn’t resist. All silly puns aside, though, the fact is traditional and online publications lost many important voices for positive sexuality this fall. The tanking economy and the precarious position of the media industry in particular was the inevitable explanation. Whether or not you agree that these cuts make sense from a bottom-line perspective, there’s no denying that the effect will be yet another obstacle to intelligent, nuanced discourse on sexuality. While I hate to see people I respect losing their jobs, I do think there’s an opportunity presented here, too. Since one thing that certainly won’t happen is that these people and others like them will simply shut up, I have hope that blogs and other forms of new media will continue to grow and fill the void left by traditional media institutions. Mainstream media might see smart sex content as too risky, but as advocates of positive sexuality we take risks every day.

10. Prop K

Proposition K was a San Francisco ballot initiative, but its importance was covered online regardless of geographic location. Unfortunately Prop K did not pass, but the fact that it was on the ballot at all and got 42% of the vote should be seen as positive gains. I know that doesn’t do anything to change the lives of vulnerable, criminalized sex workers facing real violence right now, and the people who voted “no” and/or vocally opposed it need to think very hard about what their “no” means. Yet this was a historical moment and hard as it is sometimes, I think it’s important for activists to remain positive (which also means taking care of ourselves). I don’t believe Prop K would have had nearly the support it did without the effects of the online community; and maybe next time those effects will be even greater.

Honorable mentions:

Steve Gower

Gower is a dangerous vigilante who terrorizes street-based sex workers – especially trans* workers and workers of color – but thinks of himself as some sort of neighborhood champion for midtown Atlanta. On the heels of the 5th International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers, Creative Loafing published a predictably slanted (and infuriating) piece about Gower. For a short time there was outrage over this asshole in the local blogosphere as well as the larger sex workers’ rights blogosphere, but sadly Gower and his MNA sidekicks (see Peggy Denby’s latest stunt of racism and homophobia) are still terrorizing some of Atlanta’s most vulnerable populations.

SpaceyG booted from Peach Pundit

Speaking of predictable… in August, SpaceyG had her front-page posting rights on Peach Pundit revoked. Coverage in the local blogosphere had a particular tone that other stories about political bloggers lacked; it didn’t take a rocket scientist (and we even have one of those!) to smell the sexism. It manifested itself not only in SpaceyG’s initial ousting from Peach Pundit by overlord Erick Erickson, but also in the manner in which it was “covered” – downplaying the significance, blaming the victim, saying “nuh-uh!” – all the usual Bingo squares. C’est la vie, right women bloggers?

Bloggers taking blogging back

To close on a happy note, I started to notice this year that one by one, bloggers are getting fed up with the little boxes into which “digital entrepreneurs” and “social media experts” have tried to shove them. You can do this, you can’t do that, play by the rules if you want to be taken seriously! We’ve reached the tipping point, and more and more bloggers aren’t having it. We’re taking blogging back from those who have tried to co-opt it. My prediction for 2009? Even more momentum of this sentiment!

Saturday rambling

I started writing this post right after getting up from a nap, when I decided I should write about the really scary dream I had before I forgot it (which I knew I would welcome!). So the first part of this post is just free-writing/stream-of-consciousness about that dream. I make no guarantees of grammatical correctness or any sense of narrative.

—
I took a nap and had a terrifying dream. I was in my parents’ house, in my room, trying to nap. I was scared being in the house. I had left the light on in the kitchen (like I did here). And I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t my mom or dad who were out, it was Rusty, because I was an adult and I don’t live w/ my parents anymore, I live w/ Rusty, in my own apartment. I kept feeling like I heard someone walking around in the front of the house. I got up to make sure the kitchen light was on and as I walked down the hall I turned on the rest of the lights – spare bedroom, bathroom (not my parents’ bedroom for some reason)… as I got closer to the front of the house I felt more scared. I looked into the kitchen to make sure the light were still on, and they were, and my dad was standing at the kitchen counter reading the paper like he used to do. He said something snarky to me about how I was actually awake and he didn’t think I came out of my room anymore. I kept trying to tell myself, no, that’s not real, that’s not right, he’s dead. I ran into the living room to close the blinds which I noticed were open even though it was dark outside. I noticed a bunch of cars lined up in the driveway (not sure why that matters). Then I noticed there was a fierce wind in the living room. I looked up and my mom’s potted plants were being blown all over the place. I felt the wind all around me and was really cold; I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from because both the front and back doors were closed. I thought “I better ask my mom about this when she gets home” but then reminded myself, no, it’s not my mom, it’s Rusty, he’s the one who I should ask. And all the while I was really, really scared. For some reason when I saw that wind I was the most terrified I had been. I ran back toward my bedroom, for some reason peeked my head inside the bathroom and looked at the clock on the wall. It said 6:00. Then I woke up with my heart pounding, really scared and wondering for a minute where I was. I looked at the clock at it was, in fact, 6:00.
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Okay, now that that’s out of the way, let’s move onto some more mundane (or at least, less disturbing) things.

Earlier today I interviewed Franklin Veaux, the creator of (among other things, but this is probably what you’re most recently familiar with) the sex map that was all over the internet a month or so ago. I had no idea he lived in Atlanta, but Regina informed me. Yet again, people who live out of town are telling me about things/people/events in my own city. :P It had been a while since I’d interviewed anyone for a podcast by myself. I’ve been having trouble thinking of people to interview; I guess my mind is stuck in a rut. Anyway I felt kind of disorganized with this interview today – or rather, not the interview itself, but everything surrounding it, and that made me frustrated and self-conscious. We were supposed to meet at the Brickstore Pub at 2:00. Well, I got there before he did and it was REALLY crowded. When he got there we decided to go next door to Sweet Melissa’s, which fortunately was still open, but by the time we finished eating and paid up, they were about to close. So we thought we’d go next door to Starbucks to do the interview. But when we stepped in there, it was also really crowded and there was a guy playing a fucking RECORDER. Exasperated, I said, “Do you want to just go to my apartment? It’s right up the road.” So we went there instead and did the interview and all was well. It wasn’t until after he left that I thought of the pole in the apartment. Not that he would care. But sometimes I just forget that I have a pole on a 4′x4′ raised stage in the middle of my living room. I mean, I don’t really forget that it’s there – how could I, I see it every day and walk around it – but I mean I forget that to a lot of people, that’s strange/surprising/amusing. I forgot about it when the Chem-Dry guy came, the first time the apartment maintenance guy came, and Rusty’s mom. It’s always kind of a “heh/oops” moment when I remember it.

I went to Target this morning to shop for one of the holiday adoption kids in our group at work (we do this holiday adoption thing every year). I had $120 to spend on a 1-month-old baby. I don’t know if the baby was 1 month when the family signed up, or if he will be at Christmas. I’m thinking the former, otherwise he wouldn’t have been born yet when they signed up. And I don’t know how far in advance they sign up. Anyway, the mother asked for everything in size 24 months. I thought that was weird – even if she wants stuff for him to grow into, 24 months is pretty far away. So I got clothes in all different sizes, because that baby needs stuff to wear now, too! I spent a little more than the allocated $120, because I forgot to take tax into consideration, but I didn’t go terribly far over budget. Also while I was at Target, I looked for an ice scraper for my car windshield – I don’t know what happened to the one I always had in the trunk of my old car – and they didn’t have one. Isn’t that crazy? I know we’re in Georgia, but an ice scraper is basic!

There is a little fruit fly/gnat thing in the apartment. Rusty killed one earlier, too (or at least thought he killed it – maybe this is the same one). It’s been around for a few days and I have no idea where it came from, but it is very annoying. :P Did I mention I am so ready to move? I emailed the mortgage lender today and told her the first week of January we want to come in for pre-approval, because then it will, without question, be less than 90 days until we buy a house. Hard to believe, but very exciting!!

For my next level 6 (formerly called level 5/6) pole dancing recital, which is a week from Monday, I’m considering the following songs:

• “Gett Off” – Prince
• “Casualty” – Snake River Conspiracy
• “Like A Boy” – Ciara
• “Precious Thing” – Tori Amos

I’m not sure if I’ll make a video this time. We learned a routine this time around, something we haven’t done in over a year, so it was a nice change of pace. But that routine is HARD. Of course, that’s expected, since we’re at the advanced level. But seriously, DAMN it is exhausting! I feel like I always perform my best in the studio, because my home setup is a bit limiting (but that’ll change after we move!); but I might feel too much pressure knowing I’m being recorded with this routine.

I need to blog the recipe, such as it is, for the famous Luis dressing at some point. I meant to blog it last weekend when I was in Augusta, but kept putting it off because I didn’t want to deal with all the formatting. Lazy, I know. Maybe I’ll do it tonight.

Now, I’m going to go write some Christmas cards. I haven’t sent Christmas cards in years, but there are a few people who I don’t communicate with very often (mostly family members, who I see an average once every 10 years) who I want to send cards to this year.

New media filling the void, for passion and (maybe, sometimes) profit

I felt like writing about a few things that I think were missing from Monday’s post, related to blogging, bottom lines, media (new, traditional, and otherwise) and WHAT IT ALL MEANS.

First of all:

I loathe the idea that if you make money from something, then it’s “selling out” and somehow less valuable to your audience and/or community. I love what Kevin Barnes had to say about this. And here’s an appropriate cartoon from Gaping Void:

Do I think it’s important to question a writer’s motivations? Well, yes, obviously. But this isn’t brain surgery; it’s all part of the general practice of media literacy and analysis that a lot of us do reflexively at this point, on a daily basis. What’s the NY Times’ motivation for leading with an inflammatory headline and putting someone’s life in danger? To make more money, of course. And is that problematic? YES, of course. (If you don’t know my answer to that question, then you haven’t been reading my blog for very long!) But what I’m saying is that this is an entirely different thing from making a generalization that anyone who makes money as a writer automatically, without consideration, has bad motives – and that people who do something “for the love of it” or whatever, and don’t make money doing it, are automatically better or more respectable. That’s some bullshit.

Now – to use a phrase my mom hates – with all that being said, I’ll go on and say a bunch of stuff that might appear, to the casual reader, to contradict the above two paragraphs:

Regina and Dacia and others have talked about how it sucks that, basically, the mainstream media* wants to use their writing when it’s convenient, as a way to make a buck, but doesn’t want to associate themselves with them too much; and/or wants them to do the work for free and then loosely cover it under the umbrella of “covering blogs.” And they’re right, it does suck!

But I know they would all agree with me, too, that this is where new media comes in and fills the void. No use waiting for mainstream media to get on the bandwagon and catch up; we all know how long THAT takes, if it ever happens at all. Instead, we can use the tools that are now available to us to get accurate information out there quickly, in our own voices, unpolluted by editors who are “uncomfortable” with certain topics or downright ignorant, and reach people who otherwise might not be reached (and they will have a voice, as well!). Sexuality can be discussed with the full level of nuance and intelligence it deserves, not merely used as a titillating eye-catcher; the voices of individuals can be respected rather than tokenized and used for cheap shots. No need to wait for MSM to get their shit together with how they cover sex work, for example – because sex workers are speaking for themselves (and even reaching out to try to educate the media) and slowly but surely, people are paying attention. People are going directly to the people who are experts in their own lived experiences, not to the MSM as a filter or, as one manager at the media company where I used to work said, “gate-keepers of the news.” No more letting them decide what’s important and relevant. We create the content and we foster a dialogue about it within our communities in a way that MSM just does not get yet. Hopefully they will catch up eventually, but if they don’t, that’s okay, because we’re doing just fine ourselves, and we have a drive and a passion that isn’t dependent on advertiser dollars.

* Let’s just use a rather loose definition of what that means; or maybe I should say corporate media? But I don’t think that’s exactly right either. Hmmm.

Smart sex content and getting paid

So by now you’ve probably heard about seemingly everyone in the freakin’ world getting canned (or voluntarily leaving due to “circumstances”).

Dacia wrote about it the other day and included a master list of sorts. Let us also not forget Regina Lynn leaving Wired, and Playboy Radio putting the kibosh on her Sex in the News segment. And you could really say it all started nearly two years ago, when the Village Voice killed Rachel Kramer Bussel’s “Lusty Lady” column.

In particular, it was really bizarre to hear about Melissa being laid off from Valleywag, because just a day or two before that, I’d heard about Tristan’s Village Voice column being axed, and as Rusty and I were walking from the MARTA station to work, I said something like, “It seems like the only one who still has a job is Melissa, at Valleywag.” Then Rusty said something about all of us starting a site together and how awesome that would be.

Ahem.

Dacia isn’t so worked up about the idea of starting a new site – and neither am I, honestly. Admittedly, after hearing about all the latest news, I did say this on Twitter (tweets listed in reverse chronological order, for those not on the bandwagon):
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Ramble

Not sure where to start or what to say… but alas most of life isn’t a nice consistent narrative. But then, when I was going through my archives to tag old posts (I gave up ’round about 2004) it reminded me that I used to blog more freely before I didn’t feel the constraints of titles, tags, potential audience, and a million other things. (I’ve told you a million times not to exaggerate!)

Been having a weird week so far. Sometimes I have these “lapses”… not sure what else to call ‘em. Oh and first of all, if my mom reads this (which I don’t think she does lately, she’s been so busy with other things) DON’T GET ALL WORRIED ABOUT ME. It’s a characteristic of depression, unfortunately; sometimes, even though I’m taking my meds and doing everything I’m supposed to do to take care of myself, I have bad days or weeks. Often I can’t put my finger on a particular “trigger,” but that doesn’t stop me from trying.

I really need to find a therapist that doesn’t suck. Truthfully, I haven’t had a good therapist since I lived in Texas. She was one of the only good things about living there. Her, and my apartment. And being driving distance from Niki. That was basically it.

Anyway, one thing that I’ve identified that has been bothering me is that I’m just so ready to find our house and move out of our apartment. For the longest time I was not at all worked up about home-ownership (unlike a lot of other people who just seemed to jump into it because it was “the thing to do,” even though they hadn’t done any proper planning) but I always figured when the time came for it to be right for me, I would know. And now it’s here, and I know. I’m not living paycheck-to-paycheck anymore (fingers crossed that it stays that way!), Rusty and I are together, I don’t want to leave Atlanta, etc. – it all makes sense. I think being mentally ready to move on – mentally already having moved on, in some ways – heightens my frustration. I feel like things are breaking all the time. Like this week, our garbage disposal broke twice (and as of now isn’t fixed for good yet). I try not to complain because I know about having it better than a lot of people, blah blah. But this is my blog so deal.

It’s very important to me to have a “home base” where I truly feel at home, and where things are clean, organized, in their place, and feel comfortable. For a long time that place was our apartment, but increasingly I don’t feel that way about it – I just feel annoyed. I want furniture that isn’t made out of particle board. I’m tired of concrete floors. I hate that there are marks on our walls from where the movers banged shit around when we moved in. All these things didn’t used to bother me (well, the marks on the walls always did), but now they do, and I can only conclude it’s because I’m ready to move on to the next stage. I’m annoyed with nothing feeling “settled.”

I’m sick of: strange noises coming from the upstairs neighbors’ apartment, as if they’re running a wood shop (seriously, we’ve heard sawing noises); the kid in some apartment somewhere that I can always hear from my bathroom, who screams and wails all the freaking time; weird smells in the hallway because apparently some of our neighbors are disgusting; the Phantom Pooper.

Don’t get me wrong, I have no sparkly illusions about home-ownership being the solution to all problems oh except for the part where if anything breaks you have to fix it yourself and buy your own HVAC unit etc. etc. But I am ready.

I felt a little better last night after talking to Rusty about some of this. But I still feel kind of out of whack (<– correct spelling?).

Here are some photos of houses I like:

More later.

Response to Hugo Schwyzer

Yesterday this post by Hugo Schwyzer showed up as a referrer in my StatCounter: Bridging the Porn Divide: sex, feminism, empathy, and the commitment to stop pathologizing the other side.

It’s a long post, and I suggest you read it all before reading my response to it, so you’ll be sure to have the full picture.

(I suggest you not read the comments on his post, unless you aren’t quite as harrowed by such things as I am; more than a few of them provoked this response from me.)

Anyway.
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