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If You Can’t Accept Facts, You Can’t Be An Ally

A lot of sex workers and sex worker activists had trouble enjoying their July 4th weekend thanks to Ashton Kutcher, who has been waging war against The Village Voice for airing its concerns about his anti-trafficking efforts and misinformation campaign. On almost every non-sex worker helmed website that covered this story, comments consisted of the claims that 1) misinformation is unimportant, irrelevant, or even justified if it’s for a good cause and 2) anyone who criticizes misinformation in the name of a good cause is necessarily against the good cause. In this specific case, that means critics of Kutcher’s bad stats are in favor of child prostitution. (Fun sarcastic commenter’s summation of this position can be found here.) Some have made the similar assertion that Kutcher’s careless campaigning is a good thing because it’s “gotten people talking” about the issue, as if any incidental end justifies the means, or all discussion is automatically beneficial. Judging from what internet “talking” I saw, lots of self-righteous, under-educated people are feeling even more morally superior than they did before, and many experts and activists feel even more discouraged and devalued.

Special AK vs VV Roundup

Tits and Sass will be coming back from July 4th with a bang. Tuesday will see the release of no less than four—yes, four!—posts related to the blowup between activist wannabe Ashton Kutcher and activist caller-outer The Village Voice. In the meantime, feel free to read up on the situation at the following T&S endorsed spots and add any we’ve missed in the comments.

The original article that started it all: “Real Men Get Their Facts Straight.”

Our take on Kutcher’s campaign when it first launched in April.

Amanda Brooks provides a solid overview of the recent events.

Audacia Ray on the use of the word “girls.”

Melissa Gira Grant discusses other terminology errors, the lack of practical solutions proposed by the DNA Foundation, and Kutcher’s hubris when confronted with his mistakes.

Quote of the Week

Responding to my interview request, Google first sent me an email detailing how it handles political ads, noting that it strives to be neutral and fair. […] The company followed up later with a second email on its sexual-services policy, reiterating that escort services are prohibited from advertising. As are legal workers who dare to speak up on their own behalf, it appears. That’s a frightening development in a company that controls much of the world’s information.

Jody Paterson in “Google Tramples on Sex Workers’ Rights

A New Sex Work Activist Organization: SWAAY

Redoubtable blogger, agent provocateur, and ecoporn pioneer Furry Girl launched her new activist group earlier this month, SWAAY (Sex Work Activists, Allies, and You). The site’s tagline is: “SWAAY is a not-for-profit project whose aim is connecting people with resources to learn more about sex work, and to encourage involvement with activism for sex workers’ rights.”

It’s broadly based and appears to be speaking in great part to the general public, explaining what certain jobs within the sex industry involve. Along with a lot of basic information for consumers, there’s a solid list of U.S. and international sex workers’ organizations. The site is completely SFW. A call for submissions from sex workers who are comfortable showing their faces has been posted on the site.

I Think I Just Figured Out SlutWalk

By Man Alive! on flickr

It was Sunday night at the club where I dance, near the end of my shift, when my friend and bartender introduced me to five of her childhood friends. They were all male of course; she’s such a tomboy that I wouldn’t expect anything else. I politely did my rounds, shook hands and made introductions. Hello, Wes, friend since kindergarten. Hi, Brian, friend since sixth grade. How is Arizona? Welcome to Portland, Oregon. My bartender pulled me aside quickly and whispered in my ear how she had brought them here to see me dance. “I told them all, ‘You’re gonna fall in love with this girl Elle.’” I was flattered and thanked her and squeezed her hand as I continued onto the small stage.

The rack was full. There were three young women who looked like newbies, the owner and his date, and the bartender’s male friends at the end of the row. Velvet Underground’s “Venus in Furs” began.

I’ve danced to that song dozens of times, and I allowed the beat and lyrics to direct my movements and maintained eye contact with each member of my audience as the dancing would allow. The truth is, I was exhausted. Money had been horrible that evening and I was simply relieved to be nearly finished for the night.