-: Why Make This :-

It is 2025 and honestly things are not good. Many sites, artists, and publishers are disappearing under the weight of growing censorship driven by puritanical anti-sex ideologues who feel they have the right to police and control the fantasies and desires of others.

I know this fight. Growing up in the 80s and 90s, in the midst of a fundamentalist enclave, I learned to live a double life. I hid my fantasies and desires. My stories, poorly-written teenage fantasies, were hidden away in the leftover pages of old Mead notebooks. I was luckier than many in my situation. I still had access to bookstores and corner shops where I picked up “transgressive” novels and books with erotic stories. At night, I would pull them from an old forgotten suitcase we used for storage and read them over and over. These were my escapes.

I grew older and fled those people and that mindset. Early online spaces became a second home. BBSes with stories written by strangers, traded on disks or downloaded slowly over squealing modems, were a sanctuary. When I finally got on the Internet, USENET was everything. I was a voracious consumer of stories, but I never posted. My own work remained more masturbatory, maybe an offshoot of the guilt and fear I grew up with and never overcame.

Of course, I kept getting older, and the Internet did too. Content exploded, and people were embracing all sorts of kinks and possibilities. I lurked on the edges. I would read through sites, pay for content where I could, support the artists when possible, and discovered more genres that I loved. Erotic text became a gateway to erotic audio, and all the time I would think, “I should post something. I should say something.”

Then I wouldn’t. It’s not like my voice is special. If anything, my desires and fantasies are over-represented in modern pornography. What do I have to add? So, that inner critic and my own sense of impostor syndrome won out. I stayed silent for decades. I got even older, and things got worse. I threw more money at it. That was easy, but I’m not wealthy. My small contributions may help a little, but they’re not enough. Who knows if I will be able to keep it up. Finances change especially in this day and age.

So, I’m firmly old now, and then this year happened. I kind of stopped caring about that inner critic. I mean fuck it. Maybe my voice isn’t special, but I can add it to the choir. If the artists I respect and admire are out here still creating, so can I.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t an either-or scenario. I am still going to support artists where I can. We all should. We’re in this together. I just want to share my part of this space.

-: Who am I? :-

So who am I? That is a great question. I am, based on all available metrics, probably past the middle of my life, and I am still figuring that out. I’ve been a lot of different things, I suppose. If you are looking for my bona fides, all I will say is that I have a few little letters after my name and all of them have to do with language and writing. In my intro post I say that I have two trades. If technology is one, language and writing are the other even when my typos beg to differ.

That said, and I do want to stress this, I am not claiming any authority here. This site is not a space for general critique or deep truths. This is just me talking about the art I enjoy and dabble in. If anything it is an exploration of my own interests and desires. I have opinions and I will share them, but I don’t pretend to know others’ experiences. We are all out here trying the best we can to savor a life worth living. For me that is a life filled with love, passion, sex, and desire. Elements of a life that I continue to chase even as I get older, and I intend to die still in that mad pursuit.