The Whore Babbles On
Me being a slut ain’t for your entertainment, y’all — for realz!
I’m launching a lean startup of a brothel business idea I’ve been brewing in my cauldron. From dusk until dawn (DM for details) my home will become a house of “ill-repute.” It will be a minimum viable production of something that will likely be a sex workers cooperative. People who know my background in worker cooperative development in NYC, know I’m serious and know that I am capable of making it work. I may even walk patrons and would be working sluts through a clothing optional business model canvas as a kind of focus group exercise. Free hand pleasuring for all participants. I sure AF know I’ll make a great Madam.
This seeming fascination and deep dive I have been taking into the sexual realm has a lot of people dizzy wondering what happened to that smiling, loving, Disney character that used to raise a ruckus about all things social justice. I’m out there with nude photos and video clips of myself engaged in graphic sexual acts. Now, I’m talking about running a whore house. You’d think I didn’t get enough attention. You’d think perhaps at some point modesty would kick in and I’d start “behaving” a number of people have questioned my morals and even more have questioned my sanity.
I have to be a slut. In a world where someone is sexually assaulted and questioned on their choice of attire, I have to be a slut. In a world where people can be sexualized without their own consent and without any recrimination for the person objectifying, me shaking my ass is a must. Where being naked is a crime, I need to walk tits and any other parts swinging free. To counter the body tyranny, sexual repression, and erasure of so many bodies (mostly black, brown and femme), I have to become a pornographer.
It terrifies me. I’m terrified at the idea I may lose the respect of my colleagues (though I feel nothing but support from those who choose to share feedback). The thought I won’t be able to support young people because my identity makes me unfit for children (and if that seems an exaggeration visit my NSFW twitter and see how much content has been labeled sensitive. Sex is a dangerous topic. Acknowledging oneself as a sexual being is a radical act. Demonstrating one’s sexuality explicitly in public or revealing one’s genitalia is considered indecent exposure. Collecting money for the use of one’s body in a sexual manner is a crime.
Sex is bad. Our bodies are bad. Our thoughts and urges are bad. The Only accepted manifestation of sexuality is what can be purchased at the mall, and only if it has the correct label. It’s ridiculous how such an essential part of our humanity (perhaps the most essential aspect of our humanity) is treated as such a taboo. I was right there to shake my head when Vanessa William’s nude photos lost her the Miss America title. I was outraged by the Presidents semen on that interns blue dress. When the Madonna Sex book dropped, I thought “what a ho!”
Today, I understand that my body is the last frontier and that my body is up for grabs. Please make the connection between any embarrassment you experience, or confusion about open sexuality and the chipping away of liberties. There can only be the overturning of Roe v Wade in a society that believes she should have kept her legs closed. Black bodies can be shot and killed by the police because they are the bodies of out of control savages and are best kept as property and in cages. Trans and other LGBTQ+ folks don’t deserve rights because they engage in abominable acts of depravity. FU is so common a way to tell someone to drop dead. Our own sexuality has been weaponized against us.
So, yes, I am a slut and I will use my body in ways that shock and offend. While those troubled feelings are stirring, ask yourself, when did your body become the enemy?
—Notorious Pink
