Devon Hunter

Dear QueerClick,

We have some unfinished business, you and I. But before I address any of that, I want you to know that I am not ranting as I write this. Although Howard at Fabscout and a fellow gay porn blogger bore the brunt of that fury last night, I want to be clear that I am writing this morning with the calm tone of cool “detachment.” Last night I felt that people were right, and that what happened last night on Twitter didn’t matter; however, this morning I realize that although I’m not screaming into a telephone, I am still aware of the need to get these justified feelings out of my head.

In June of 2010 your company published my legal name. I have a series of emails that I can publish if you want to deny it now (and I also have screen captures of all the Tweets from last night), but at that time your QC Features Editor was falling over himself to apologize to me. He even went so far as to say in public on this blog that he would, “spend the rest of my professional career ensuring that I never unwittingly injure another as I have [Devon]. May he and the others I’ve disappointed find it in their hearts to forgive us.” Although most readers didn’t accept that at the time, between the public statements and the private ones between you and I, I decided to let this go as much as possible.

However, that has now changed…

Although eight or nine months have passed, and although you, QueerClick, no longer have to worry about what has become a buried moment of ineptitude, people took screen captures of your story. I don’t blog everything that happens to me (though it may seem like it at times), but I want you to know that I still contend with isolated instances of harassment from abjectly crazy people. I would also point out that it took four months for all the cashed versions of this gaffe to finally rotate out of Google’s database. I don’t believe you are evil in the purposefully hurtful way that is obvious to anyone. No, I believe you are evil, QueerClick, in the subtler, “unintentional” way of acting irresponsibly and then being detached from your connection to the Cause/Effect that your meat grinder creates. I believe you’re evil, because you behave in the manner of any other cold, mechanical corporation that does what it does to generate the money it wants, no matter the cost. And this is where I will always have more value than you, despite being a single person: Your entire site and everything you do on it is geared toward money, and everything my site does is geared toward people. I win. Every time.

Now, QueerClick, let me explain to you with a level head and calm tone why you suck demon cock:

1. No one ever mentions you to me when they ask about that fiasco from last June. They only ever ask about Sean Cody. And I’ve never really put much effort into bringing you up, because (until last night) I wanted to believe your public and private mea culpas. But now that has changed: I will, from now on, continue mentioning your name as well. I’m not inventing it: In the public comments on this blog I watched you avoid removing my legal name from that cover story as long as possible. It might have been a mistake to include my legal name with Sean Cody’s press release, but your “writers” used my legal name in the body of that story that YOU wrote, in the captions of the pictures throughout the story, and within the title of the URL address. On the public comment section of “A rose by any other name…” my readers had to mention each one of these separate “horrible, inexcusable, and irreversible” mistakes – you were looking for ways to leave my name in that fucking piece of rubbish article the entire time.
2. You say repeatedly that you are not affiliated with Sean Cody beyond the level that they are advertisers, and to this I say, “Bullshit, you’re a liar.” I don’t know who Tweets on behalf of your company, but please tell this person for me that s/he is a complete and total Twat. Please do not bother erasing/denying what I am about to describe: I have screen captures of the exchange. Last night you Tweeted about a “new” model who had been brought to your attention by some magazine. I clicked on the link, and was taken to a photo shoot of a model named Simon. This immediately irked me, and reminded me of the “non-connection” between you and Sean Cody, because this “new model” is Simon Dexter (aka “Harley,” possibly the single most popular model Sean Cody has ever had).
3. I pointed this “mistake” out to you. And do you remember what your response to me was? Do you know what you actually said to ME of all the ants crawling around on this picnic table? You said, “OMG! You’re right! We got caught up in the armpit and forgot to look closely! LOL” What may look like a simple gaffe to you and everyone else sent me from irritated into full rage. How dare you, only eight months later, already fall into the same exact carelessness that perpetuated this entire problem in the first place? How dare you admit that “gaffe” to ME of all people, and IN PUBLIC?!
4. You didn’t respond when I  asked whether the magazine that “alerted us to this smokin’ hot new model shot by Dylan Rosser” was in fact the magazine that Simon Dexter himself started. So, is it? Don’t pretend Simon Dexter isn’t starting his own fashion magazine: He’s such a clueless megalomaniac that Simon actually asked me to write for it, so I know it’s at least getting ready to be launched, if it hasn’t already. So, I want to know: Is the magazine that just happened to clue you in to Simon’s existence the same one he himself started? In short, did “Harley” from Sean Cody clue you in to his existence as a model? I’m assuming “Harley” would need to tell you himself, since there is such a gulf of separation between you and Sean Cody…
5. Although you skimmed over that detail on Twitter last night, you did do that which set me off to the point that I lost my voice from screaming (although I am not screaming right now): “[We] fully admit it was an error to publish your name we found on the web, we apologized and did remove it. What you choose to do with that is fine. We get it. You can be pissed.” Let’s look at this: You admitted on my blog and in private that you utterly fucked up to the point that you may have been worried I could sue you, yes; however, you never, to my knowledge, gave the same amount of coverage to the apology as you gave to my humiliation. You didn’t find my name on the web, it was provided to you, and then you provided it to everyone else. You apologized and removed it only in painfully protracted stages under public pressure, and did nothing to get it out of Google’s memory before it expired on its own in October. What I “choose to do with it” isn’t under your authority to grant. You “get” exactly nothing, and if I want, I am entitled to be pissed for the rest of my goddamned life! All I did was describe my experience working for Sean Cody: YOU PEOPLE TRIED TO RUIN ME BECAUSE OF IT.
6. Although I agree with my gay porn blogger confidante that you aren’t purposefully malicious, I want to point out that you are a company composed of hack writers with no sense of morality or work ethic; you steal material from others without citing their contributions; you, by your own admission, release and spread information without checking it; and you completely feed into the exploitation of the human beings who give you anything worth writing about in the first place. I am not your cannon fodder, QueerClick, and neither are any of the other models you chew through on a daily basis.
7. You have the cold audacity to think you actually understand what you have done. You don’t get it AT ALL. You do not appreciate AT ALL the way in which you have made me vulnerable to crazy people. If you really wanted to attempt to do right by me, you would give the same word count and central placement on your heavily trafficked blog to describing your “oversight” and apologizing to me as you did in “unintentionally” feeding into the behavior that proved I was right about Sean Cody in the first place. You would at least pretend not to be so incestuously connected to that company. And you would stop acting like a tabloid muckraker. You can make your money, of course; however, do you have to invest so completely in being the very worst of the exploitative stereotype that is attached to this industry? All I am asking for you to do is act like a human being.

I feel better for now. I don’t know who is in charge of public relations at QueerClick and Sean Cody, but both of these people should get sacked for neglecting their duties. Please know that I continue to hold you at the level of esteem that you deserve,

Devon Hunter

I just wanted to give an update on all this. I was in the middle of shooting my scene at HotHouse with Gavin Waters when I got the email from a reader informing me about Sean Cody and QueerClick revealing my legal name. A minute later Gavin got the text telling him that his ex girlfriend had outed him as a porn model. That was an interesting scene to try to finish. I’ve never been able to watch it. I can look at each moment and remember too much about what I was actually feeling, and I don’t want to go back to that space. It’s a porn time capsule that I would prefer to leave buried.

When it all went down I have to admit I was a bit overwhelmed; however, I took time to myself as I needed, and around September the noise finally buzzed itself out. At any rate, I ended up doing almost a dozen videos last year, despite the predictions of Sean Cody’s disciples. It was funny for them to say, “You’ll never work again!” because I could reply, “The scene with (insert model name) is going great today!” LOL I had a flourishing year as a companion, and I got to spend lots of time with high quality friends and clients. Except for that “blip,” 2010 was an amazing year. I even got engaged on December 21, but that symbolic process is already described on my blog. Also, I am one payment away from bringing the balance to ZERO on the $30k fraud from my last boyfriend (whom I left in October 2006). Yes, I’m doing just fine without Sean Cody.

So, 2011 started with a visit from a great friend from Minneapolis. The day I took her back to the airport, however, my Grampa passed away. It’s kinda amazing how you pull energy and inspiration from life’s various experiences. It’s taken some weeks to get back into balanced head space, but I’m feeling amazing again. I’m so happy! There’s both good and bad stress, you know? At any rate, I’m feeling very energized, and I have all sorts of creative projects in mind. Specifically I am working on getting the dance company involved in performances outside our home geographic region, putting the plans together to start a gay-affirming adult media company (the home video I shot with DavidSF was an experiment in minimalism that I enjoyed), and collaborating with a composer friend to create an album of spoken word, poetry, songs, and other audio treats. I’m also achieving my goal of seeing fewer clients for longer appointments, and THAT is wonderful: There is so much more to exchange in those types of meetings. If you book only 1-hours, consider going longer with the guys you like: There’s so much more to gain.

Anyway, I plan in the future to give Sean Cody and the other homophobic “amateur” sites a nice square punch in the gut (and yes, some of the other sites are just as bad). Competition is beautiful, yes? They have stopped their vagina monologues at the beginning of the scenes at Sean Cody, because I was a “gold star gay” in their ass. I am quite proud to have embarrassed them into doing what is right. The day I finally get this media company going online, I am quite happy to say that I don’t see how they’ll be able to show their faces in public once my business model, process, and structure are known. Their intent in revealing my legal name was to ruin me; however, they don’t know the first thing about me, if they think I respond to bullying by running away. Six months ago they started the process of ruining themselves, because they inadvertently inspired me to make work better than their own.

“From ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord deliver us.”

We all have our demons. I am definitely not an exception. I still have a particular monster under my bed. (I would say I have a skeleton in my closet, but the door is wide open, and nearly all those have come clattering out onto the floor.) But to stretch this extended metaphor to its breaking point, I will say that I am still haunted.

I have been eating irregularly again.

I thought I’d completely contended with the anorexic tendencies, but they are back. And it helps to talk about it, to examine it, and to get it out of my head. It’s like clearing the cobwebs out of a spooky house. I am eating as I type this, in a bid to reverse the habit that has been coalescing since Sean Cody published my legal name. Over the last several weeks I found myself falling into a familiar thought process: “Oh, it’s too much trouble to eat. I’ll just put it off. What I’m doing at this moment is far more important (plus I’ll look better, too).” That last part is what betrays the underlying problem. The rest of that notion is fairly typical to American workers… but the last part… I have to break this cycle NOW. I have accidentally initiated a process of feast and famine, and it’s wrecking my mood and wellness.

Looking at what might have triggered this, I have to say it’s pretty obvious: My stress levels went up dramatically just before my birthday, and have never really diminished completely. At the exact same time that everything was happening with the gay porn blogosphere in June and July 2010, both Gramma and Dad went into the hospital on my birthday. Dad has recovered, but Gramma has not, and it’s wearing Mom out (who is getting almost no help from her brothers, which is pissing me off more and more). While I was trying to take a break and retreat from everything for a couple weeks, I ended up having to contend with various types of emotional traumas simultaneously, and my response was to stop eating properly (to say nothing of my drinking water and sleeping enough). All of it together has thrown me into a bit of a tailspin, and my sense of happiness and optimism have definitely taken a hard knock. In addition to these factors, the trolls guarding the G4P bridges on the intrawebzes got in some painful licks: It was extremely jarring to have so much homophobia lumped on me by my own people. I admit it: That hurt.

It’s an odd addiction, attention. When I was getting far too much of it, I just wanted it to go away; however, there’s some kind of reality-show-need to maintain it (despite the fact that I didn’t want it in the first place). I feel a little bit like a used car: I’ve been afraid of becoming an obsolete model after having been driven hard by too many reckless drivers. It isn’t that I care specifically about becoming a porn star, but I have been fretting over preventing the prediction of my detractors: I have been trying to stave off their desire for me to fail in my video endeavors. But it isn’t for these anonymous “people” to define my happiness or my success – I have given them a power that isn’t theirs.

And so, as you can see, doing porn is also contributing to this eating situation: I am constantly worrying that I look ridiculous next to my scene partners, that I look utterly disgusting next to their beauty. (But my agent told me that nearly everyone in porn suffers these same insecurities.) Part of the problem in maintaining a strenuous diet is trying to stay in tip top shape constantly, so that I can be ready at a moment’s notice if I get a call for a scene. I haven’t allowed myself enough down time to rest and enjoy food. It’s irritating, because they call when I’ve been enjoying desserts too much for two weeks, but when I am a good boy I don’t hear from them. I had a carb meltdown yesterday and ate half a box of Golden Grahams. Sigh. Watch them call me in three days once the puffiness sets in around my bellybutton…

It was my goal to do 10 scenes. I have already done 11 (nine of them this year, AFTER the bullshit with Sean Cody… so MNAH!), and I feel the need to dig my heels in and remind myself that I am an escort who has done some porn. I’m not a porn model who sometimes escorts. I did what I set out to do. There are now examples of me in a variety of scenarios. Worrying about whether or not I will get more scenes has become too much of a priority. I can check off the porn item on my Adult Entertainment To Do list.

I am going to put the focus back where it belongs: On being happy. And I was happy when I wasn’t worrying about proving something to a bunch of assholes I’ll never meet (thank the Goddess for small miracles). If I continue to do video work, great. And if not, okay. I will accept reasonable video offers for scenes that don’t diminish me as a person or cloud the clarity of my brand, so long as the dates don’t conflict with my travel plans; I will continue spending time with the people who enjoy my company; and I am going to calm this porn noise by reconnecting to a spiritual practice that I have recently neglected.

Besides, I have other concerns: A Greek Orthodox Monk is on his way over to my apartment to talk to me about the plot for a musical he wants to write. And he’s using my poetry to do it. I think that is far more interesting than whether or not I’m given the nod of approval from a group of rampant consumers who are impossible to please.

Speaking of rampant consumers: I’m hungry. I’m going to go eat some more. I’m making a conscious effort to exorcise this demon.

And these will be some of the consequences within 24-36 hours of that happening:

1. You will start getting prank phone calls on your private cell number
2. You will hear of friends/family with private phone numbers being called by “journalists” from the AP
3. You will receive hate-ridden messages on a variety of media from crazy people
4. You will be recognized while driving and degraded by strangers
5. You will find less important people in your life distancing themselves from you

I cannot stress it enough: You should NOT work for Sean Cody. They do not respect you or your private information. You are nothing to them but a meat sack with some money in it. In making this decision to “out” me, they have caused me a few inconveniences; however, I genuinely hope that people will realize that in trying to defend themselves from the truth in my account that they have damaged themselves so deeply that their brand is completely tainted.

If I find that there are unfamiliar activities on my credit report I am going to not only dispute those potential inaccuracies, I am going to lay the blame squarely on Sean Cody and pursue legal action against those who defraud me. Sean Cody was my former employer, and if they disrespect my Social Security Number in the same manner as they have my name (and by extension many other aspects of my privacy), I will be certain to tell all of you all about it.

If any further incidents happen, I may also publish the phone numbers/email address/names/aim chat names I have of the staff at Sean Cody (and publish the name of this anonymous Vice President who wrote the initial press release that used my legal name), so that you can call and tell them personally whether or not you think their actions have been appropriate. And while you have them on the phone, you can also ask them if it is particularly savvy on their part to respond to my review of their process of making porn by doing everything in their power to prove everything I said about them is correct?

At some point Sean Cody may release an email I sent to them a year ago. In it I am thanking them for allowing me to work with them, commending them for being supportive on set, saying I wanted to work with them again, apologizing if I held up the process of filming, or came across as bitchy. Yes. I definitely wrote it. I remember writing it. AND I WROTE IT, SO THAT I COULD GET MORE WORK OUT OF AN EXCLUSIVE CONTRACT THAT HAD NO GUARANTEE FOR FURTHER WORK. Kissing your boss’s ass is part of doing business. I said what I needed to say to get the most out of a bad situation.

But before you dismiss me as a liar for having written that email (which I will include below), keep in mind that when they asked me to come back for a third movie, I turned it down. At that time I already preferred going on a trip with a potential boyfriend and losing money, rather than working with Sean Cody again to make money. I decided to go to Biltmore for the trip I’d already paid for, losing $500 – $1,000 in the process, rather than skipping on the trip and going to San Diego to make $3,500. I apologize for what may look like an inconsistency, but it is not. I would also point out that I wrote to them from my DEVON HUNTER email account – if they had a problem with me being an exotic dancer prior to working with them why didn’t they ask me about this alias under whose name I had been writing to them for an entire year? If necessary I will post the ENTIRE conversation I had by email to demonstrate that I always wrote to them from my DEVON HUNTER account.

“From: Devon Hunter [mailto:devonhunter1814@yahoo.com]
Sent: Friday, June 05, 2009 11:33 AM
To: NAME REMOVED TO PROTECT THIS PERSON’S PRIVACY
Subject: Scene with “Fuller”

I sent you a text, but I wanted to send an email as well. Thanks for booking me to do a scene with (FULLER’S LEGAL NAME)/”Fuller.” He was really awesome to work with – he was very friendly and personable. So were the crew members. They were all very patient and supportive of me towards the end: By the fifth pose I was really exhausted/desensitized and getting more than a tad cranky, and I wanted to apologize to them if they thought I was difficult, or if I slowed the process down for everyone. If (INSERT CAMERA MAN’S NAME) or anyone else has any feedback for how I can do better next time, please pass this on to me. I look forward to working with you guys again soon!”

I have been asked repeatedly how I decided to use the name Devon Hunter, and in the aftermath of the Sean Cody discussion I should finally tell this story. You see, someone has decided (in a fit of revenge) to release my legal name to the public. I have been waiting for someone to finally expose my personal business to the world, without consideration for my safety (and all because I have dared to describe the ways in which gay-for-pay pornography is destructive to gay men). Shame on you, sir. Shame on you. You are my gay brother, but I am ashamed of you.

Fine.

My name is (edited). My entire family knows about my career, as do almost all of my friends. I chose the name Devon, because I knew a man by that name who was beautiful but humble; I chose Hunter, because I knew one who was not particularly handsome, but confident nonetheless; and I thought putting them together in one person would be the ideal for which I would strive. So, now if you want to waste your time looking all my private information up, you can knowing that internalized homophobia has put me at the center of the target, but that I’m still here and I won’t stop blogging about my experiences in the adult entertainment industry.

I do not back down from intimidation.

I don’t have anything to hide. Shame on you, sir. Shame on you. I hope this decision you have made will further illustrate why models should NOT work for your homophobic company.

Click here to see how Sean Cody may try to hurt you if you speak about their homophobic practices.