To offer an alternative perpective as a consumer of very perverted porn, I don’t hate women, but in my case I can understand why people would mistakenly think so.

See male sexual domination turns me on, so most of my fantasies revovle around men taking control of a woman and sexually degrading and enslaving her, often against her will (fictionally, not in reality). She eventually cum and the men will break her will taming her as a plaything. Alot of porn is choosen around that sort of fantasy.

I’m not an idiot, I know how horrible these fantasies sound to people, hell when I first started having them I hated myself for it and it left me really depressed because in real life, I’m a nice guy, I like most women, I have great empathy for other people and I care.

You really have to understand just because Sasha likes to be called a whore and gang banged, don’t mean that this is some reflection of who she is as person, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t respect herself because even though the sex is real, the fantasy she is exploring is fictional, its not a reflection of her real belief systems.

I write erotic fiction as Omega Phallic and it includes rape, blackmail, piss, slavery, psychological torture, and some honestly impossible types of orgasms and sex acts. Oh and bad spelling and grammar sadly.

If some one read what I wrote in these stories and assumed that was a reflection of what I believe, I’d appear to be a psychopath.

Instead I’m the type who who has helped old women across the street, who lends or gives money to his family when they need it, who believes in equal pay for equal work, and a women’s right to choose, I believe in rape shield laws, in social democracy, in gay marriage. You see non of that in my stories.

People don’t get to pick and choose which fetishes turns them on, so being PC needs to stop at the bedroom. Your penis or vagina does not care what your politics is.

Titillate them but keep it moral for the advertisers.

Apart from that, vapid and jejune as porn may be, I find it to be better done than almost anything on television. Except I don’t own a television, so maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about. (Not unlikely, in any case.)

Finally, to take one step back from the tone and content of the piece, I would suggest that Ms Banks invited Ms Grey as a guest in order to keep up the ratings and that Ms Grey appeared on the show to get publicity. So, in essence, the show had nothing at all to do with porn, humiliation, veracity, sanctimony, or hypocrisy.

I watch porn. My sexual proclivities would very likely make the audience of a show like ‘Tyra’ twist and/or harden their faces to placate that knee-jerk need they feel to be one of the shaming crowd rather than one who empathizes or tries to understand another’s perspective, particularly because the observers, themselves, do not want to be shamed.

Still, even though I am a conspicuous consumer of pornography, I recognize that my yen for it is most often the result of my own shortfall of intimacy, is bolstered by being sexually abused as a child and by the palpable misogyny I feel. I watch it with ambivalence. I enjoy it on a base and primal level and I enjoy it as an expression of my hatred of women. Then I feel guilty for feeding, and reveling in, my misogyny: an issue that would be better worked out with therapy, which is something I am currently doing.

Sure, sometimes I just want to see some sex and there is none of the murky, difficult mental scurf attached to that desire, but that’s rare. And I believe that very few people consume porn with only their base desire to witness sex or satisfy their primal urge. It pains me to concur with someone as vapid and hypocritical, faux and disingenuous as Tyra Banks but, I too, believe there is always psychological/emotional damage suffered by those who make porn and, very often, by those who consume it.

Your work, Zak, really comes across just as hollow as Tyra’s attempted evisceration of pornography. You are nothing more than a defender of something you purvey. You are just as subjective, albeit conversely, as she is. And your defense of porn, and the style of writing with which you defend it, is insipid and puerile.

First we have Tasha (or Sasha) perched astride the web of her creation. Then the pompilid wasp Tyra arrives to prey on the predator. Soon enough all creation seems to have tumbled into the web, which promptly turns into a black hole locking stares with the Eye of God circling remorselessly overhead writing it all down in a little golden book in ink of Greek fire. Yet, up to this point the sinews and veins of the story are still barely discernable, even if at times they resemble delicate capillaries coursing with translucent blood beneath a paper fragile skin. But then all at once the locusts of commentary descend, filling the void with their furious buzzing. The earth falls away, the familiar comforts of gravity disappear and any sense of ‘up’ or ‘down’ is irrevocably lost. All questions became equivalent to all other questions, in the *sortal* sense. In the final analysis we’re all predators, we’re all whores, we’re all on TV and simultaneously the audience watching TV, we’re an ineffable ineluctable indwelling mystery to ourselves and each other. If there is any lesson here in this meta madness it can only be that the universe ends with a whimper, not a bang. The bones turn to chalk, the oceans become deserts, and the cum dries on the keyboard. Go now, the mass is ended, thanks be to dog.

It’s worse than that, because calling the woman a “fat whore” is exactly the kind of cheap, prejudicial rhetoric that the piece seeks to excoriate when it mentions the Tyra Banks people’s dishonest camera angles and wardrobe choices. A piece that grooves on pitilessly exposing hypocritical moralism and outrage (and, Lord, was I grooving) risks puncturing its own authority when it stoops to ad hominems.

My sympathy immediately shifted at those words, wondering whether she was happy or unhappy in her fat body, whether it was new or familiar to her, and, ultimately, what about her story and choices were obscured and conflated by those two words.

Polemical execration of hypocrisy is maybe the hardest writing to do, playing with knives, because it requires great discipline, and beacuse, in the end, aren’t we all hypocrites in one way or another?