Devon Hunter

I just got back from Secrets. I’m exhausted. The last month has been road trip after road trip, and I am going to try to take this coming weekend off completely. I have so much blogging to catch up on, and I want to thank everyone who emailed me questions/topics. I fully intend to catch up with all of this in the coming days as I rest and recover.

But there is something grave I need to address first.

I have spoken already about the potentially abusive relationship that can exist between patrons and entertainers, especially when patrons become obsessive. This is stalking. I am not going to address this again here. This weekend I witnessed an entertainer who is being abused by another entertainer. They are boyfriends. The problem with abusive boyfriends is that they can be so beguiling and charming at first…

Having survived abuse, I already know most of the excuses, apologies, and lies that abused people use to defend the people who hurt them. When you encounter someone who is being victimized by his/her partner, it is difficult to know how much to intrude. I personally wouldn’t want to accidentally escalate a situation (which as bad as it might be in front of others could become much worse in private); however, I also cannot turn a blind eye.

Adult entertainment attracts all types of people. Some of them are unsavory and/or dysfuntional. These people may be club owners, booking agents, film directors, patrons… or the entertainers themselves. Given the reputation lumped upon most entertainers in general, it goes without saying that there must be a reason for this: There are some horrible people who dance in clubs. Definitely not all, or even most, but entertainers need to pay attention to other entertainers.

I was very excited the last time I almost dated, because the person in question had worked as a go-go dancer, and didn’t judge me because of my work. It is common for adult entertainers to pair off with each other – we understand each other. And yet, that means that there is the potential for you as an entertainer to connect with one of those unsavory people I just mentioned, thinking that it will be a good match. But you must always pay attention.

I got pretty forceful with one of the dancers. I think I probably put him on the spot (in private) unexpectedly. He is, in my opinion, at the stage of the abusive relationship where he is not willing to accept that he is being abused. But when I consistently see his partner treat him like a servant, start physical brawls over nothing, insult him with names, degrade him by calling him female slurs, make forceful attempts to kick/punch/slap him, and discuss with other entertainers the best way to “be the man in the relationship” by limiting the person in question’s ability to function by cutting off access to the car, then my conscience forces me to act. If his abusive partner is going to make this public, where I have to see it, then it’s an invitation to become involved.

I told this beautiful, sweet-natured, warm, friendly man that when he was ready to accept that he needed to get away that he can call or email me. If he needs a few days to figure out how to get home to his family, and needs a safe place to get far away from the verbal and physical blows, he can use my home as a sanctuary. I cannot pretend to not know what is plain before my own eyes. Even though he is still at the point where he says, “Oh, he’s just aggressive. It’s the steroids. You can’t take him too seriously. He’s actually a really nice guy,” he will eventually (I hope) come to recognize the lie in this. How many times do you have to tell me someone isn’t a douche bag? Shouldn’t I be able to see that on my own?

If you are an entertainer, there are going to be times when you are very lonely. You will want to connect with someone. You might be tempted to look for love within the career. And that’s totally fine; however, make certain that you practice the same vetting process on the private side of the velvet rope as you do on the public side. Make certain that you pay attention, regardless of the career of the person you cling to. But, without trying to feed into a stereotype, recognize that the odds of picking a bad apple may be worse if you pick from this particular barrel.

So, I went out last night (Tuesday Trivial Pursuit at Petra’s in Charlotte, NC) for the first time in quite a while. Every time I go out for fun I remember why I don’t. Over the course of about four hours I had umpteen random people come up to me (most of whom I had never seen before) and criticize something about the way I looked or the way I was dressed. I was on the receiving end of several cutting remarks about what I do, and I was called up on stage by the female impersonator hosting the event who said in front of about 150 people, “This is the only stripper I’ve ever known whom I would call an entertainer.” Mhm.

Here’s one exchange I had a few moments later: “You look very nice tonight.”

“Thank you. How are you?”

“I’m good. You’re that stripper, right?”

“Which stripper?”

“That guy that does all the flips and shit.”

“Oh. Yes, I’m probably that person, yes.”

“You look really hot. Can I take you home?”

“I came here with a friend. He’s my ride back.”

“Well, when you’re dressed like that it screams ‘Whore!’ I’m just saying.”

I was wearing jeans and a tank top with a baseball cap.

“Funny, I thought it was more of a whisper.”

I was pinched, poked, prodded, rubbed, humped, squeezed, and canoodled until I was just about done with being gracious. I finally settled into a nice conversation on the back patio, but before that happened I had to get ornery with someone: One boy came up to me randomly and said, “You are sooo fucking hot. But I’ve heard about you.”

“Oh? What have you heard?”

“That you’re a dancer.”

“I am a dancer.”

“Oh, well I don’t hold that against you. I’m cool with that.”

“Ah. Well, what do you do?”

“I work at Best Buy. I’m in retail.”

“Oh, well I don’t hold that against you. I’m cool with that.”

He went and sat down.

This could probably be alleviated by going out more. I am seen so seldom in my clothes that people just don’t know how to relate to me as a real person. I suppose I should start breaking down the social wall a little bit more, and letting people see me as I am. But that means I’ll have to contend with alot of sniping and mean bullshit along the way.

A total stranger walked up to me, and said, “So, did you tear the sleeves off that shirt?”

“No, it’s a tank top. I bought it like this.”

“Well, I’d like it better on a woman. I’m sure everyone else likes it just fine, but I’m straight.”

(Blink, blink… what the hell am I supposed to say to that?)

“Alright.” And then I turned away. What else is required here? I have no idea.

Part of me desperately wants to go out and be around people more (without it being in a work setting), but another part of me just rolls his eyes and thinks it’d be better to just stay at home with the cat. I like people, I truly do; however, there are times I just want to smack them. I have to admit that this is beginning to wear me out.

Probably the most hurtful non-interaction was with someone with whom I’ve hooked up several times. He kept walking by me with his head down, refusing to look at me. I finally approached him and said hello. He acted surprised to see me, and we had a very uncomfortable 30-second chat. About an hour later I left to go home. Immediately he texted me, “Sorry we couldn’t talk more. Let’s fuck again soon.” I think not.

Dear Harlow,

I just watched the videos that were produced for the here! network, and I wanted to take a moment to tell you that your story has not gone unheard and unfelt. I want you to know that there are people who see that “even a gay porn actor” is innocent until proven guilty. I want you to know that there are people who are not entertained by your misery. I want you to know that you are right every time you say your name out loud, and that your mother is right to touch the glass as if she were caressing your face. I want you to know that when you are exonerated there will be people who will celebrate whole heartedly for you. I want you to know that there are people who hope you will survive, heal, and thrive. I want you to know that there is compassion for you, and that there is still beauty outside – it is waiting for you to embrace it when you return to the world. Do not come back to us broken. Please.

If you are found guilty, I hope it will be because there is a mountain of incontrovertible truth sustaining that decision, and not because you have lived your life in your own way. If you are found innocent, I hope it will be because you are innocent without any further doubt attached to your name. If you are found lost in the dark, I hope you will remember the points of light: They are the stars that will guide you home. If you are found alone, I hope you will remember that you are not.

Con mucha esperanza,

Devon

Neither. I don’t care for the terms. If I use them at all, it’s only so that I don’t have to always explain myself. I also don’t care for masculine/feminine, active/passive, and man-in-the-relationship/woman-in-the-relationship. Although the terms are somewhat clinical, they are also accurate and devoid of implicit value judgements: I prefer the terms insertive and receptive.

Top/Bottom are highly problematic terms for me. The outright judgement contained within them make me a tad angry. Plus they’re completely inaccurate, at least in any instance where the people in question have enough creativity to move beyond the missionary position. Also, exactly how much does it flatten a person to one dimension when you ask “Are you a top or a bottom?” as if the response to this should carry all sorts of extended implications about relationship role, identity, mannerisms, and interests. (“I’m a bottom, but I play sports!” Mhm… fuck you for apologizing.) Because they are black/white terms, the gray areas have to be covered by the laughable term “versatile” (as in a tool? Is that what you mean?), so that further distinctions can be made (and I find it’s the “bottom” men who generally feel obligated to reaffirm their masculinity with this word “versatile,” in order to not be “demeaned” for being primarily “bottom” in the first place).

Masculine/Feminine is so frought with problems that I’m not even going to begin to dissect them as terms. Many scholars have already done this ad nauseum for the last 40 years or more. Go ask Judith Butler her thoughts on the construction of gender.

Active/Passive are just as annoying to me as top/bottom. Give me a damn break. The only people who could possibly think this is an accurate description of sexual roles are the people who’ve never experienced both. If you actually believe that the “bottom”/”woman-in-the-relationship” isn’t completely engaged by the sex act, then you’re either insensitive, ignorant, or stupid. Again, man/woman-in-the-relationship carries far too many ridiculous assumptions to be terms I can use.

The insertive partner, whether biologically male or female, is exactly that: The person who is inserting. The receptive partner, whether biologically male or female, is exactly that: The person who is receiving. (How much of a brain fuck does it become when I mention seeing a picture yesterday of two men fisting each other simultaneously? Who’s the “top/bottom” in THAT scenario? Hm? God I love gender theory!) Neither role is given more power with these terms. I don’t think I need to address in much detail the preference generally afforded to the insertive partner; however, I would like to take some time with the receptive role and its inherent power.

To receive, to hold, to welcome, to envelop, to surround, to cradle, to embrace, to squeeze… These are not passive actions. These are active actions. And I would argue that it takes far more strength of character, psyche, and even physical strength to endure being entered than inserting, entering, introducing, poking, stabbing, or pummeling do. Taking it out of the gay world for a minute: If a woman’s womb can bear a child, exactly WHAT does a man’s penis do that is anywhere in the same realm of strength, endurance, care, or investment? Men fall out from a kidney stone. Hell, men fall out from colds… I know I do. I’m a total wimp.

I must sound like an angry power bottom fairy guerilla homo commie pinko bastard. I’m not. Another reason I have difficulty with the top/bottom question is because it depends so much on my mood and where I am in my life. When I was a neonate, yes I was 100% receptive. My sexuality evolved and for several years I was split even 50-50. For a year or so I was 100% insertive. Right now I would have to say I’m somewhere between 75-25 and 67-33 leaning insertive. That will continue to change and evolve.

Ultimately I don’t see the point of being a gay man and not enjoying both roles. We are, sexually speaking, in a position (excuse the pun) to be the only people on the planet to truly know the joy of both. Women can be empowered by and enjoy various types of insertive activity, but they’ll never have a penis. Straight men who are afraid of their assholes will never enjoy fully what their bodies are capable of. It’s amazing for us homos to have that one advantage over everyone else. It makes me sad that so many people in our community cling so tenaciously to heteronormative sex roles. I personally think any gay man who is a total top or a total bottom is a total drag, because he isn’t open to experiencing the real joy that is a gay man’s sexuality, and he is often invested too much in a series of value systems that are incompatible with his sexuality (whether he realizes it or not).

Remember this: You may be penetrating me, but I am enveloping you. And I would want it to be a true vice versa. I do not in any way enjoy the idea of being the insertive partner, and feeling as if the person with me thinks himself bottom/passive… I don’t want to enter him unless he wants to welcome me. I want him there with me and engaged.

So… I guess ultimately what this means is that I don’t fuck. I meld.

Many of the threads on the site where I chat are ridiculous, stupid, infuriating, bitchy, mean, and generally worthless; however, they tend to generate some classic flame wars, so that makes them tolerable. I admit that my own contributions have often taken them in that direction. I’m not innocent in this. However, there is one thread running right now that is particularly interesting to me. The paraphrased title of the thread is, “These porn stars: Where do they all come from?” The original question centers on trying to figure out the source of all the denizens of online porn models. It looks sometimes like almost EVERYONE is a porn star, thanks to the internet and affordable technology for home use.

The original poster has a good point, of course. The internet has made everyone an expert on everything (How do you think I’ve been empowered to make myself the Dr. Phil of gay strippers?). People can simply say whatever they want, and it’s the truth… because they said so. The printed word once carried a great deal more weight than it does now (in my non-cited, unscholarly opinion). Such is the way of the world and the evolution of language/communication: Writing was once a treasure, an arduous skill possessed by only a few illuminated minds, and it went to reason that anything written was therefore precious for one reason or another. By contrast today, every ignorant ass in the galaxy knows how to record his/her stupidity for posterity. Writing simply isn’t the mysterious, permanent voice of the gods anymore. It just isn’t. (Because I said so.)

Although I know most of what everyone writes (myself included), is utter tripe, I still invest in what people have taken the time to commit to a format more permenant than the spoken word. Theorists say words are random and have no real meaning. I disagree, and in a new book called “Alphabet Juice” by Roy Blount, Jr., he explains why the words we use are connected to us at far deeper levels than simple sound associations. I’ve studied languages and writing. I love them. I can’t help finding weight in that which is written. Take this response to the thread’s question, for example:

They come from their worthless little lives with no ambition and dignity. A few hundred dollars to them is just another bag of cocaine.

The problem here is that although his opinion if full of unmitigated hatred, it’s not necessarily full of untruth. Yes, there are definitely people in adult entertainment who are on a downward spiral. And that spiral is fueled by destructive people who encourage destructive behaviors. What is not present in this response is any acknowledgement that there are also adult entertainers who do consciously contribute something valuable to the culture at large.

When I give these examples, it isn’t a plea for understanding and empathy. I intend it more as an example of why that person’s over-generalized response requires discussion. So then, here are some examples of people in the adult entertainment industry who do something good through it, or because of it:

• Many people use adult entertainment to fund an education they otherwise couldn’t get
• Many directors (e.g. Chi Chi LaRue) specifically address the importance of safe-sex in an attempt to keep vigilance about STD’s in the front of viewers’ minds: “Safe sex is hot sex!”
• Several of the adult entertainers I know are involved with charities, which benefit from the presence or endorsement of the celebrity in question
• Pornography is a form of safe sex in and of itself
• Pornography is a tool for teaching people about sex (for better or worse), and keeps issues concerning identity, gender, and sexuality at the fore. The very “clichés” people make fun of in porn are there because there’s a demand for them. What does that say about you as a consumer?
• Adult entertainers, whether they intend it or not, force the culture to discuss issues of sexual politics, and in their own way (intended or not) are part of the dialogue that is the struggle for LGBT equality.

And what about the more practial fact that most adult entertainers have enough work ethic to support themselves and their families through multiple jobs, rather than take unemployment or other forms of government aid? Scotty dreams of buying his finacé-to-be a nice ring, and to provide her with a home and comfort. My dancer friends with children bemoan the slow nights at the club, because (and I directly quote a beautiful man I know at Swinging Richards named Star) “I could’ve stayed at home and held my baby.” What about the fact that adult entertainers who claim their tips and pay their taxes have contributed money that is just as green as any doctor’s, lawyer’s, teacher’s, or engineer’s?

I do not intend to refute the stereotype that porn stars and strippers are drug addicted whores who are not only oblivious to their own wasted lives, but who also undermine civilization by bringing others down with them (Isn’t that what the religious Right says about homosexuals? ALL homosexuals? Even the judgemental, bitchy cunts who make hateful comments about people in their own community in an effort to ally themselves with the very Puritanical culture that rejects them?). I have no need to debate this assumption: The content of this blog, and the clarity with which I speak (even if I were the only sober adult entertainer on the planet, which I’m not) proves that, at the least, there exist exceptions to the “rule.” (Because I said so.)