Censorship

Oh, don’t worry.

I haven’t been censored in a week.

The last time I was censored, Tejas asked me to edit my post about losing my pants at SoulFire so that he didn’t sounds quite so. . . so. . .

Inebriated.

But hello, I did EMPHASIZE that the cocktail I gave him at SoulFire was the same as slipping him a Mickey.

I try to point this out at every opportunity I get.

I “dosed” my friend.

I do have something to say about censorship, however.

People I know.

Liberal-minded, forward-thinking, educated individuals have censored me.

Once, a woman came up to me at the burn and said, “I prefer if you don’t blog about me.”

To which I wanted to respond, “Then don’t do anything INTERESTING!” only to realize that that was redundant.

And now, here I am, blogging about her.

I will say this, however.

There are people, lifestyles, events, and activities that I participate in or have friends who participate in which sort of defy explanation and get lost in translation.

If you ask me if my work knows that I go to Burning Man, the answer is “No.”

And that’s just an annual artistic community experiment in the desert.

What if there were other activities, outside the mainstream?

It has dawned on me, very slowly, that in spite of this blog, I do need to protect the identities and interests of some of my friends who trust me and continue to invite me to participate in their events.

So not everything goes in the blog.

I censor myself.

BUSTED. . . by Facebook

Not long ago. I put up a post about the Australian (aka the Aussie) hitting on me with a graphic text, “Do you war to get your pu**y licked?”

I wrote a pretty benign post to accompany the story however I included a photo which was beyond acceptable for Facebook.

It included no nudity (per se), but it was a picture of a guy going down on a girl.  Contextually graphic if not sexually graphic.

About 12 hours after I linked to the post on Facebook, I tried logging in to Facebook.

Locked out.

And just so you all know in case this happens to you, Facebook tells you why you were locked out, makes you read a warning about content on Facebook, and then asked you to review your photos and mark any that should be removed based on your newfound knowledge of what is appropriate and what is inappropriate.

Was I upset to get censored?  A little, especially knowing a “friend” reported my image.  But I knew I was pushing the boundaries when I uploaded the image.

I personally think that FB needs a non-anonymous system to report photos/content so that those of us who are reported can WEED OUR GARDEN OF THOSE “FRIENDS”.  Honestly, if I offend you, why are you my friend in the first place?  Great idea, no?

Meanwhile, if you wan to see the post that got me in trouble, click here.

Me and the naked spa

It’s no surprise that I go to the naked spa for treatments. However what I failed to mention in my earlier posts is that I also like co-ed naked hot springs.

I’ve been to Lupin Lodge in the Santa Cruz Mountains  and Harbin Hot Springs in Middletown and both have been very enjoyable experiences for me.

Sometimes you just want to laze around the pool naked, soak in the sun, and go skinny dipping.

Is it weird being around all those naked people? Not really. Everyone is very respectful and keeps thir eyes at eye level. It’s almost like the nudity ceases to exist.

I think as Americans our attitudes towards non-sexual nudity is backwards. We act as if all nudity is bad and everyone should cover up. We don’t want our children seeing it. But we take them to art galleries where there are naked figures and paintings on display and we call it art. Why the difference? What makes one naked body art and another naked body sinful?

I think the answer is conditioning. It’s part of our culture. And it likely has a lot to do with the oversexualization of women in pornography and advertising. We treat the naked human body like it’s sinful because we see it as something that serves a sexual purpose only. We have no concept of the body as beautiful in its infinite variety.

I find naked bodies comforting. It’s great to see the variety of shapes and sizes out there. It makes me feel good about my own beautiful yet imperfect body. I think more people would feel better about their own bodies if they just allowed themselves to witness the diversity.

It’s a beautiful thing to be comfortable in one’s own skin.  And I’m rather amazed I had to take off my clothes to finally embrace mine.

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