Was Constantine truly a man of faith?

[deepundercover]

Let's tear down the wall of silence about this fourth century Roman Empire and tackle this topic head on.

[sarettah]

Hey Duck....

Your nurse called... Time for your daily meds and High Colonic.....

:agrin:

[Almighty Colin]

When I was 11, my grandfather gave me an ancient coin with Constantine on one side. I lost it at some point. :(

No idea on the Christian thing. In what way is the question even answerable? We're often overspeculative at guessing even the motivations of modern leaders. How to guess the motivations of one we have much less of a tangible connection to?

[cj]

fuck
someone left the door open and shit blew in

where's the oprano broom kept?

[Winetalk.com]

e tu Brutte?

get lithium
;-)

[Vick]

Luke
Let's get a little more relevant and timely

Let's talk about .... Um .... YOU

I ask the questions and you can give the answers .. the Luke Ford interview - Live like a Suicide

No loaded questions, nothing derogatory or inflammatory

Up for it?

Here's the first

Luke, what is the most misunderstood thing about you or the one thing you would like to maybe clear up or express yourself in a new manner on?

[Almighty Colin]

I'd rather discuss Constantine myself. :blink:

[deepundercover]

Originally posted by Vick@May 13 2003, 06:12 PM


Luke, what is the most misunderstood thing about you or the one thing you would like to maybe clear up or express yourself in a new manner on?
Most people don't seem to understand when I am serious and when I am joking. Serge understands. Smart people with a sense of humor understand. I have a dry and dark and Australian sense of humor that does not communicate widely it seems.

[Winetalk.com]

Originally posted by deepundercover+May 14 2003, 10:45 AM--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td>QUOTE (deepundercover @ May 14 2003, 10:45 AM)</td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'><!--QuoteBegin--Vick@May 13 2003, 06:12 PM


Luke, what is the most misunderstood thing about you or the one thing you would like to maybe clear up or express yourself in a new manner on?
Most people don't seem to understand when I am serious and when I am joking. Serge understands. Smart people with a sense of humor understand. I have a dry and dark and Australian sense of humor that does not communicate widely it seems.[/b][/quote]
LUC,
stick to ScottPB's australian sense of humor!

need bolt cutters?
;-)))

I have some interesting info for you,
I'll send it shortly,
please post it under XXX writes,
I don't wanna use my own name

[Vick]

Luke, much thanks for the answer

Let me ask you this next please


How would you describe your work and or dealings with the adult entertainment industry?
Do you consider yourself a journalist, something different or a combination of things?

[deepundercover]

Originally posted by Vick@May 14 2003, 07:55 AM
How would you describe your work and or dealings with the adult entertainment industry?
Do you consider yourself a journalist, something different or a combination of things?
#1: I am a misanthrope - meaning I basically hate people. I am a misanthrope because I am highly insecure and I think I am worthless, hence I lash out at others. This is not a joke.

The reason I am so religious (with many many instances of falling short of my religious ideals) is that it gives me some self esteem and corrals me from completely destroying myself and others.

I tend to be controntational and opppositional. If I were writing about the NFL, I'd be similar.

As for my work in the adult industry, I tend to be confrontational and oppositional. Much of it is in humor. Some of it, a minority of my work, is solid journalism. The rest is writing or cutting and pasting what interests or amuses me or I think will interest or amuse my readers.

Everything I wrote above is literally true to the best of my ability to encapsulate it.

My basic take on porn is similar to my basic take on TV and movies and popular music - it is overwhelmingly destructive.

Men won't stick around to help raise kids unless all other forms of sexual release aside from marital sex are stigmatized and discouraged. In the last 40-years we've seen traditional standards fall apart, and not coincidentally, we've seen the nuclear family fall apart.

Ahh, you say, I make/use porn and my family is fine. Well, there are many vices, such as porn, drugs, alcohol, gambling etc, as Adam Smith wrote in the Wealth of Nations, that the middle class can indulge in with little harm that would destroy someone from a lower class.

[Winetalk.com]

LUC,
I don't care what anybody says,
you can count on me at your funeral!

I like solitude events
;-)))

[Vick]

Luke - that's very interesting, thanks for sharing so much
Please forgive me I'm on my second cup of coffee so the blood just starting to flow to my brain and getting th juices flowing


You view the adult industry with a negative connotation.
At the same time do you have a seem to have fascination or extreme interest with the adult entertainment industry.

What drives that interest with the adult entertainment industry?
What makes do you choose the the adult entertainment industry to report about?

[deepundercover]

Originally posted by Vick@May 14 2003, 08:21 AM
What drives that interest with the adult entertainment industry?
What makes do you choose the the adult entertainment industry to report about?
I want to tell you about six parts of my childhood that led me into porn and shaped my coverage of it - my country, family (particularly my father), fantasies, religion, relations with others (particularly women), and health.

A. My country.

I was born May 28, 1966, in Kurri Kurri, Australia, a nation settled by white convicts who hated authority. Australians still have a tall poppy syndrome - meaning we like to cut down those who try to rise above the norm. While Americans celebrate achievement, Australians denigrate it. Australians tend to make good journalists, particularly good tabloid journalists, because we're suspicious of those in power and are not afraid to mock them.

I admired the United States for years before I moved to California with my parents in 1977. Since I began to read history, the U.S. has stood out to me as a beacon of goodness and freedom in the world. I became an American citizen in 1991. I love this country.

B. My family and my religion

I'm the youngest of the youngest of three children. My father, Dr. Desmond Ford, was the fiery chairman of the religion department of Avondale, a Seventh Day Adventist (SDA) college located in the country two hours drive from Sydney, Australia's biggest city.

A Protestant sect, Adventism demanded one seventh of our time (the Seventh Day Sabbath as a holy day absent from work), one-tenth of our income, and complete abstention from such wordly pleasures as plays, movies, meat, alcohol, nicotene, caffeine, masturbation, and pre-marital sex.

Australia's most influential Adventist, my father trained a generation of ministers and brought thousands of people to Christ. A natural evangelist, Dad was at his best before large crowds. They inspired him to be loveable, witty and charming.

An unloved child raised nominally Church of England, Dad was finally mothered in his teens by an Adventist woman who inspired him to exchange the tawdry trade of journalism for Jesus Christ.

Dad often said he wouldn't give a cracker for this fallen old world. He kept his eyes fixed on heaven while morbidly predicting the demise of those around him who didn't eat right and exercise. My brother called him "Dr. Deathman."

Despite his doctorates in rhetoric and Bible, Dad had the strengths and weaknesses of the autodidact. Zealous in his pursuit of Truth, it was hard for him to listen to differing opinions. Instead he used his formidable rhetorical skills to bulldoze his challengers, even when they were his own family. "That's fine except it's papist," he'd say in debate, invoking Adventism's mortal enemy, the Roman Catholic Church, to crush dissent.

Dad approached the outside world as the enemy to be debunked. Believing himself a Bible scholar and theologian, he loved to show others where they were in error. Unsurprisingly, he had many enemies.

I grew up in my father's shadow and inherited many of his tendencies. Quiet and passive at home, I principally used my brain in school to make fun of others. My fifth grade teacher wrote in my report card: "Luke is always willing to share his opinions with the class but he needs to learn to be more tolerant of the slower thinker." Unsurprisingly, I had few friends.

The best thing about my family was that my father loved my mother Gwen, a fellow convert to Adventism. Despite her observance of God's Law, however, my Mom became sick the night before my first birthday and after a harrowing struggle with bone cancer, she died when I was four. A part of me died with her.

In the years since Gwen's death, my family has come to regard her as a saint. She was our taste of heaven in this fallen world. She was the one thing that held us together.

Before I was five, my father married his secretary Gill. Life immediately became hell for all of us half the month because Gill suffered from Pre-Menstrual Syndrome (PMS), which made her nuts.

My family never recovered from the twin traumas of Gwen's death and Gill's PMS. My older brother and sister left home as soon as they could (around age 15) and went their own way in the secular world.

I've been like an only child through most of my life, which accounts for my introspection and self-absorption. Insecure and angry, I had an insatiable need for attention.

Unable to secure enough love in real life (though my family and religious community gave me more than most kids get), I retreated into a world of fantasy. Every time I met what seemed like a nice family, I dreamed of them adopting me. Every time I saw a beautiful woman, I dreamed of union with her. Every time I read a biography of a great man, I dreamed of matching his accomplishments.

My active search for a world-transforming career began at about age seven when I learned to read. I loved history, particularly of the British, American and Old Testament kind. I teethed on books of heroes such as Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln and King David.

I believed that English-speaking people had a divine mission to civilize the world by making it democratic and Christian. This divine mission began with Abraham in Genesis and continued through Moses and the prophets Isaiah and Daniel to Jesus, Columbus, Martin Luther, and America. I believed in one ethic for everybody - a Bible-based Protestant ethic.

My historical bent should have merged nicely with my Seventh Day Adventist (SDA) religion. Christianity, I learned from my father, was uniquely a historical faith. God had sent His Son into our history.

But I perceived that intervention diminishing the grandeur I wanted for my history. My religion and my ego were at odds. Christianity taught that the life and death of Jesus fulfilled history. The greatest hope of all my Christian friends was for the Second Coming, which would end all history. The Cross was not an event in the temporal process that I understood by history. Rather, it was an event in the history of salvation, an eschatological moment in the realm of eternity when this profane history came to an end, just as history comes to an end for each Christian who is in Christ.

Jews I first met in the pages of the Gospels. I understood the main figures of the Old Testament, such as Abraham, Moses and Isaiah, as proto-Christians. The Pharisees seemed a hypocritical bunch, "tithing thimmun and cummin yet ignoring the weightier matters of the law such as justice, mercy and faith." They were stupid too, unable to understand the parables of Jesus that foretold his coming death and resurrection. Jews tried many times to kill Jesus for healing on the Sabbath. Eventually they brought him before Pilate, a kindly Roman, yelling "Crucify Him, crucify Him."

It seemed as if all the Jews in the world were in Pilot's courtyard lusting for the blood of the Divine Savior who sought only to save them from sin. Jews forced the Romans to crucify Jesus and in so doing they took an eternal curse upon themselves and their offspring. "May his blood be on us and on our children."

Christ fulfilled and superceded Judaism. My Church was now the true Israel. The few Jews around today were fraudulent representatives of the Old Testament tradition, sent into exile by God and tortured for two millennia for murdering His Son.

With the Crucifixion at the center of my religion, I felt ambivalence towards Jews and their bloody deed which brought salvation to the world. I saw Jews occupying history's starring roles. My religion's God, Son of God, God Incarnate, Messiah, Apostles, Bible, and commandments all came from the Jews. John 4:22 said "salvation is of the Jews." Jews, Jews, Jews... They seemed to have done it all. What was left for me to do?

One option, which filled the life of my father, was to get out the word that the Jewish Messiah had come. But that approach was not for me, for I lacked faith. I didn't see how the life and death of Jesus made any difference in this world.

Not heavenly minded enough to appreciate that Christ's redemption was a spiritual redemption from the cares and concerns of this world, which was still in the grip of the Devil, I fell out of step with my eschatological (end of time) religion.

After once hearing a powerful sermon on the End of Time by my father, I burst out to him, "If I make this world better, I'll only delay the Second Coming of Jesus."

"That's right," he said.

I knew in my gut that something wasn't right. I did not want to reject religion as nonsense because life seemed to have no ultimate purpose without it, and most of the good people I knew were Christians. Yet, I could not reconcile my dreams with my Faith. For the next thirteen years my attention slipped to lesser matters, and the morality of my behavior and world-view dropped steadily below what it had been at age nine.

I became fixated on girls, particularly on the airbrushed ones that didn't get sick like my mothers.

One day in fourth grade my best friend Wayne grabbed a cardboard box of porn magazines from the trailer of his older brother Brian. We lugged the load into the bush and scrutinized the contents. For the first time, I saw beautiful women naked. The pictures struck me with all the force the Apostle Paul described in his epiphany on the road to Damascus. It was as though a light shone from heaven and a voice cried out:

Luke, Luke, why do you persecute me?

"Who are you?"

I am porn who you persecute.

My eyes devoured page after page of candid photography. My religiously-educated conscience told me I was sinning but my body told me I was right. Did I not deserve this knowledge? This pleasure? This love? Here was everything I wanted most. The palliative to dead mommy was hot porno.

After an hour of study, we gathered up the sacred scriptures of sex, and Wayne returned the box to his brother's trailer. Suddenly his Mom popped out of the house.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

“Just returning Brian’s stuff,” said Wayne.

“You’re not looking at his dirty magazines?” she queried. His guilty face told her all she needed to know. We were busted.

Over dinner, Wayne’s mom lectured us on the destructiveness of porn. It led to drugs and crime. We must be more careful to shield our eyes from temptation. But as long as it doesn’t happen again, she won’t tell my parents.

Grateful to escape a spanking, I decided to never again look at pornography.

In May 1977, the Church moved my parents and I to Pacific Union College (PUC), a Seventh Day Adventist schtettle in California’s Napa Valley.

For the first few weeks of school, I was the center of attention. The most beautiful girl in the class, Cindy Jackson, even dropped a note on my desk asking if I would be her boyfriend. I flushed as I read her words and my heart pounded. Confused and embarrassed by the intensity of my desires, I ran away from her without answering.

I didn't know what to do. I had no friends to turn to for advice. I knew my parents would say no to any relationship with a girl (my father had broken up my brother's relationship when he was 14).

Too scared to say yes to what I wanted most, I fell back to my default position of hostility. For the next few months, I teased Cindy unmercifully and she quickly grew to hate me.

When I came to see the error of my ways, and asked Cindy to be my girlfriend, she said no with glee.

Like my father, I was so awkward around females that I shuddered when they touched me. Half of me wanted to be a woman-hating he-man like Dad and the other half of me wanted to be a fornicator like my brother. I eventually reconciled these contradictory drives by resolving to become a woman-hating fornicator.

On occasion, a plucky girl or two would take me on as a challenge and love me. Once, during a four-hour ride home from my sixth grade retreat near Fort Bragg, I was stuck in the back of a van with several girls. We were bored and we had only each other for entertainment.

Amused by my loud proclamations that the opposite sex was yucky, the girls piled on top of me, held me down, and kissed me dozens of times. I fought back by tickling them, the easiest way for me to channel my feelings of fear, hostility, and desire. I protested loudly throughout the struggle even though I loved every minute of it.

My cries of protest weren't just an act. I feared girls as much as I wanted them. I hated them for making me want them so much. I hated the beautiful ones for rejecting me. I hated the homely ones for needing me. I hated all of them for menstruating and getting PMS. Dad said all women get PMS.

Afraid of other people, afraid that they'd reject me before I could reject them, I retreated into books. In eighth grade, I read my first book on journalism, a career that immediately appealed to me because it seemed like a cure for my social isolation. Journalists hung around important people and worked at the center of what was going on. Yet, at the same time, they were above the fray. They were cool and distant, observers not participants. They were superior.

I wanted to be like that - to fit in and stand apart.

My Dad stood apart in my community. After the Church trifled with him over a Sabbath School quarterly he wrote, my father denounced it’s central doctrine that it was specially chosen by God. The troublesome convert who'd inspired thousands of people to join the Church, now plunged it into controversies that echo to this day, causing tens of thousands of people, and millions of dollars, to leave the fold.

From my father's losing battles, covered in Newsweek and The Los Angeles Times, I got hardwired with the adrenalin rush that comes from telling those closest to you that their most precious beliefs are wrong. The resulting expulsion, I learned to interpret, meant we followed in the footsteps of Christ.

In September 1980, my parents and I followed in the footsteps of Christ to Auburn, California, a 45-minute drive north of Sacramento, where my father set up his own evangelical Christian foundation Good News Unlimited. Dad told interviewers that we now "belonged to the invisible church of Jesus Christ." This invisible church didn't make for much practical community or clear personal identity.

In 1981, my parents allowed me to attend public school so I could take my first journalism class. Many of my schoolmates and teachers at Placer High School, a redneck football-crazed community of 1600 students, found me to be the most obnoxious person they'd ever met. Angry at the world, no longer rooted in anything, I sought to tear down the allegiances of those around me.

"Don't write that," said Shannon Anderson, the sports editor of my school newspaper, when I brought up allegations that some teachers gave preferential treatment to football players. "Everyone will hate you."

I published the story anyway and found out that Shannon was right. One 300-pound defensive tackle wrapped his hands around my neck and squeezed until a teacher pulled him off me. Other players picked me up and threw me in the trash can.

I felt strangely stirred by the attention. I felt like I was somebody.

Shannon, my best friend, didn't speak to me for a year.

As I prepared to become the editor-in-chief of my school paper, my predecessor Eric Schulzke wrote in my 1983 yearbook: "Watch the libel, huh? Watch out for the team, and don't get people angry."

My classmate Lesley had a different concern about me: "Luke, what a pervert! You'd think guys from Australia would be shy! Obviously you were deprived of things during puberty!"

With few friends, I spent much of my time during high school at the Auburn Public Library where I hunted down books like The Carpetbaggers by Harold Robbins that featured detailed sex scenes. No subject interested me more than intercourse but it depressed me that almost all the books with the juicy details ended in calamity. I wondered why smut couldn't simultaneously uplift as well as excite? Why couldn’t the Sydney Sheldons of the world combine the optimism and inspiration of religious books with the explosive details of intimate acts? Why must sexual sin lead to personal destruction? I longed for the freedom of adulthood when I could explore these questions in theory and in practice.

While hanging out at a newsstand one day when I was 16, I looked up from my Sports Illustrated and over to a man leafing through Playboy. I was transfixed by the sight of naked female flesh. Blood pounded my temples as I stared at cherry lips, big tits and creamy thighs. The woman’s body communicated to me more powerfully than all of my father’s sermons and I felt an inchoate longing to rest my head on her bosom and cry.

I decided to dedicate my life to achieving sexual satisfaction. Unwilling or unable to develop a relationship with a real girl, I sought sex in print. At the beginning of 11th grade, I bought a pornographic novel and carried it home. As I read, I became aroused, and for the first time in my life I lost control all over my book, legs and couch. Because of my religious inprinting, I felt stunned, embarrassed and ashamed. Cycling through the major stages of grief while wiping up, I vowed that I would never abuse myself again.

I kept my vow for 24 hours.

I began collecting magazines like Playboy, Penthouse, High Society and Hustler, which I stored in the woods outside my home. Almost every day I visited them and studied their contents. I dreamt of the models as the perfect women - always available and yearning for sex, and never menstruating and emotionally complex. Imagining myself locked in passionate embrace with these goddesses soothed my real-life inability to connect with others.

In the summer of 1983, I attended a weeklong journalism training camp in the San Francisco Bay Area. On a field trip into the city, I led three other boys my age down Broadway Street. Walking into a massage parlor, I inquired about the price.

“Do you have ID?” asked the skeptical proprietor.

“In the car,” I said and the group filed out laughing at me. We walked farther down Broadway and a man hustled us into a club where an overweight Asian woman stripped on stage. The club wanted $15 from each of us for entrance. We demurred and trudged on.

Our search for hardcore was finally rewarded when we found a porn shop with peep shows in the back. After feeding the machines with quarters, I saw sex for the first time in my life, including complete nudity, vaginal penetration, blow jobs and cum shots. Despite the sticky semen-stained disinfectant-smelling dank surroundings, it was a glorious moment.

When we tired of pouring our quarters down the slots for fleeting satisfaction, we ponied up $5 each to go downstairs to a dark wet room with used rubbers on the floor and hardcore movies playing continuously on a big screen TV. The first flick was in Swedish but you didn't need a translator to understand the screwing. The next one featured two American women who had a massage and lesbian sex until joined by a man for threeway penetration. After the money shot, my mates dragged me out of the store because another guy was smiling at us. I could’ve stayed there all afternoon watching porn. I vowed that one day I’d watch all I wanted.

In early 1984, Shannon Anderson and I checked out the video camera from our media class and drove to the Auburn Toyota car dealership to interview the February 1984 Penthouse Pet of the Month, Antonia Larsen. Having never seen her pictorial, I walked onto the lot and asked the secretary if she was Antonia. She was not. The car salesmen and staff laughed at me. It was not an auspicious beginning for my career as a porn journalist.

Embarrassed, Shannon and I stumbled to his car and though we wanted to flee, we waited for the arrival of the Pet. Twenty minutes later, a big truck drove up and we saw a tall slim model get out. It was our girl.

I introduced myself and she was happy to give me an interview. We sat down at her booth, and as Shannon manned the camera and the line of autograph seekers grew, Antonia gave me rehearsed statements about women having a right to do what they want with their own bodies. Unable to pierce through her cliches, I gave up after 15-minutes.

As we parted, she autographed a picture that I kept for years to show to friends: "To Luke, Thank you for a good time in Auburn, CA." Somehow it reassured me of my desirability to women.

Almost five years passed before I lost my virginity at UCLA during the week of Valentine's Day 1989.

I was 21-years old at the time, and a wreck. My life had come apart a year earlier when I had awoken with a nasty flu that never went away. I'd visited doctor after doctor, but none of them could figure out what was wrong (the UCLA hospital later diagnosed me with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome). I had banked on achievement as my path to happiness, but now I was too sick to achieve.

I searched desperately for salvation.

I quickly realized it wasn't in pornography. I'd driven down Sunset Blvd one Saturday morning on the hope that it was full of porn and hookers. Pulling over by a XXX theater, I studied the billboard for Veronica Hart’s movie Wanda Whips Wall Street as if it were a map to heaven. Then I bought a $6 ticket from a guy wearing black fingernail polish and walked inside the smut palace.

My dreams of a sensual paradise contrasted dramatically with the filthy surroundings. The crowd was depressing - lonely downclass men sitting many seats apart and watching a video playing on a bigscreen TV. Attendants walked up and down the aisles every few minutes to make sure that nobody masturbated. The movie was bad, even by porn standards, featuring that fat hairy pig Ron Jeremy.

Despite the grodiness of it all, the constant reminders that I was in the gutter, the images on the screen ignited a fire in me that drove me up the stairs to the mens room to relieve myself. After I exited my stall, other men piled in. I washed my hands with soap and ran away.

Forsaking porn, I clung to my new girlfriend and my new hero - KABC radio talk-show host Dennis Prager. The Jewish theologian was the first religious thinker I'd encountered who wasn't horrified by pre-marital sex and pornography.

Over the course of a year, I came to believe in Prager's presentation of Judaism as a humane middle road between the extremes of denial and indulgence, chastity and promiscuity, standards and compassion, freedom and community. Here was a rational religion immersed in reality, with a divine mandate to transform this world. After two years of study and practice, I became a Jew in 1992.

My inherited religious extremism survived my conversion to Judaism. I wore a yarmulke, sidelocks and scraggly beard around my parents' home and answered the phone "Shalom." Like ultra-Orthodox Jews, I refused to shake hands with women. In fits of zealotry, I sold all my rockn'roll CDs and burned my porn collection.

My commitment to purity lasted until 1993, when I was tempted by Diana, a woman with E-cup breasts. At the tender age of 27, I ran away from home into a four-month relationship from hell (confirming my sexual sin equals hell hypothesis from childhood) that sent me fleeing to Los Angeles in March 1994, to new psychotropic medication (Nardil), new girlfriends, and a new lease on health.

Hoping to regain my moral equilibrium (never firm at the best of times), and leave my self-destructive tendencies behind on my sick bed, I applied to work for Dennis Prager and his Micah Center for Ethical Monotheism. Giddy with freedom and selective Judaic fervor, I must've struck the good people at Prager's office as a bit unbalanced and the job fell though.

I next threw myself into the pursuit of acting, figuring that's what I've been doing most of my life anyway as I've ranged through the various poses I thought would garner me the most attention. Living out of my car for seven months to save money, I quickly landed an agent, a manager and several teachers. Between classes, rehearsals, and auditions, my life was full. But my success rate was zero. My obnoxious personality held me back in this collaborative field. While my peers made contacts, I made enemies. Over the course of a year, I was thrown out of three acting schools and three synagogues for "speaking inappropriately."

Shunned by polite society, seeking a project that I could control, I decided to write a book on how to be a good person. Aware I'd not achieved any mastery of the topic, I hoped to build on some of Dennis Prager’s teachings. But Dennis was no fool, and he asked me to hold off.

Refusing to be discouraged, I selected the next most obvious topic for a man of my delicate sensibilities – a history of porn. Here was a billion-dollar industry that nobody was investigating. Here was a way for me to distinguish myself publicly while satisfying my private demons. Here was my path to salvation.

In July 1995, I drove to downtown Los Angeles for the annual show of the Video Software Dealers Association. After walking around the main exhibit, I popped into the bathroom, took off my yarmulke, and slipped into the porn section.

My eyes devoured the X-rated displays while I waited in line to chat up various porn stars signing autographs.

“Is there any sex act you won’t do?” I asked one blonde strumpet.

She thought for a few seconds and then shook her head.

I tried to develop a conversation with her but the line behind me grew restless and the girl's handlers moved me on.

Eternally insecure, I took the rejection personally. I felt dissed. The pornographers thought I was just another slavering fan. I vowed to prove them wrong. I vowed to be a spy like Joshua and cross the Jordan River of respectability and scout out the promised land. I vowed to come back with the biggest scoops that will show all those people in my life who've shunned me that I am a worthy person.

[Trev]

Originally posted by deepundercover@May 14 2003, 04:03 PM
The rest is writing or cutting and pasting what interests or amuses me or I think will interest or amuse my readers.
You have readers :blink:

:huh:

[Vick]

The Luke Ford life story ....

That certainly explains a lot of the conflicts
Almost sounds like Porn was the devil that rode on your shoulder and whispered in your ear calling you .....


I'll pop 2 questions out on you here

The most recent answer from you, Luke looks as if it might have came from a manuscript, are you writing the Luke Story?

What effects have you seen from the Internet explosion on the Adult Entertainment industry?

[Almighty Colin]

Originally posted by deepundercover@May 14 2003, 11:03 AM
In the last 40-years we've seen traditional standards fall apart, and not coincidentally, we've seen the nuclear family fall apart.
Every generation laments the traditional standards of the past. The past sucked. Really. Things have never been better for so many people.

[Peaches]

Originally posted by Vick@May 14 2003, 12:21 PM
What drives that interest with the adult entertainment industry?
What makes do you choose the the adult entertainment industry to report about?
:snipe: :woo: :kapow: :uzi: VICK! :shooter:

Please don't ask any more questions that will bring out such a huge cut and paste from the King of Cut and Paste! :okthumb:

[Winetalk.com]

LUC,
I said 5 LINES posts,
not 5 pages ones!
;-)))

[deepundercover]

Originally posted by Vick@May 14 2003, 08:49 AM
The most recent answer from you, Luke looks as if it might have came from a manuscript, are you writing the Luke Story?

What effects have you seen from the Internet explosion on the Adult Entertainment industry?
Yes, I am working on my story.

2nd question - the same as everyone else is seeing. Internet is just another delivery vehicle, more private than others. No civilization will ever be able to make complete peace with porn, nor to wipe it out.

[Vick]

Thanks again Luke

At the risk of Peaches wanting to kill me :D



If there was no Porn Industry (impossible I know) where would Luke Ford's career path have taken him?

If it would still be in journalism what would Luke Ford be covering and why?

[Danny_C]

Well, to answer your initial question, both.

[deepundercover]

I'm finding a niche writing on the newsmedia at www.lukeford.net

[Trev]

It appears threads like some humans, just won't die <_<

[Almighty Colin]

Originally posted by Trev@May 14 2003, 12:37 PM
It appears threads like some humans, just won't die <_<
I've been preparing for just such an occasion.

http://www.linkification.com/linked/cutter.jpg



Last edited by Colin at May 14 2003, 12:43 PM

[Rolo]

Oh - I also have some questions: :)

Luke do you belive in self-fulfillment prophecy? Not just on a personal level, but also for the whole mankind?

Have mankind been "bad", because we were told that we would be bad when we were born? Would we have been good, if told the opposite?

Did Hitler read nostradamus quatrains, thinking he must be "Hister" and then starting WW2?

Why do mankind see man made things as unnatural - is a man made dam more unnatural than a dam made by a beaver?

Would mankind ever accept that sometime in the future evolution will choose another lifeform as "leader" on the planet... would mankind try to fight evolution or adapt? Have mankind allready adapted?

[Vick]

Luke, much thanks for your time and efforts and sharing your side of your story
Due to popular demand :P I'll bring this to a close

In closing, while this "interview" may not have changed anyone's mind or opinion about Luke Ford it has been an opportunity for Luke to tell his side of the story

For my part I'll admit to reading Luke's journalism on setgo occasionally.
It's sort of like rubbernecking at a car wreck, you don't want to look but do anyway

Luke in closing what would you like to say?
Is there a question I missed that you would like to bring up, something that you would have liked to say but didn't have the opportunity?



Thanks again Luke

[Trev]

Originally posted by Colin@May 14 2003, 05:41 PM
I've been preparing for just such an occasion.

:biglaugh: :biglaugh: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA :biglaugh: :biglaugh:

I love it :okthumb:

Please for all thats is good and decent... USE IT


:blink:

[Trev]

Vick you truly do have his style of interviewing down to a tee


:D

[Almighty Colin]

Originally posted by Rolo@May 14 2003, 12:43 PM
Did Hitler read nostradamus quatrains, thinking he must be "Hister" and then starting WW2?
Hister is a river.

[Almighty Colin]

Vick,

I've liked Luke's sites over the years. It's like the now proverbial train wreck. Ya know?

I don't want to read his life story though.

[Vick]

Colin - this was an impromptu thing

Saw Luke posting questions and thought Luke's always asking questions, doing interviews and reporting. Let's turn the tables around on him a little

Since it was off the cuff I didn't want to ask any "hard" questions so tossed some easy lobs

There are a few people in the industry I'd like to play 10 (or so) questions with. Give them an opportunity to tell their side of the story

With some of the strong, interesting personalities in this industry it might make interesting reading

[Rolo]

Originally posted by Colin@May 14 2003, 10:24 AM
Hister is a river.
Thanks Colin :okthumb:

[Torone]

"Men won't stick around to help raise kids unless all other forms of sexual release aside from marital sex are stigmatized and discouraged. In the last 40-years we've seen traditional standards fall apart, and not coincidentally, we've seen the nuclear family fall apart."

You don't think that could be more attributable to something called 'The Great Society', which pays women to have fatherless kids? I mean, like welfare, AFDC, WIC, free housing, etc?

[cj]

Originally posted by Vick@May 14 2003, 01:43 PM
Colin - this was an impromptu thing

Saw Luke posting questions and thought Luke's always asking questions, doing interviews and reporting. Let's turn the tables around on him a little

Since it was off the cuff I didn't want to ask any "hard" questions so tossed some easy lobs

There are a few people in the industry I'd like to play 10 (or so) questions with. Give them an opportunity to tell their side of the story

With some of the strong, interesting personalities in this industry it might make interesting reading
I can't think of anybody's life story i care about less

this thread is a waste of valuable oprano real estate.

could someone PLEASE get rid of that stench? We managed to throw him off the island and now i have to see him on oprano?!?!?

and vick ... WHAT PEACHES SAID!!!!


serge, this is your most desperate trick yet!!

[Vick]

CJ - actually Serge didn't have anything to do with it
and due to popular demand I stopped

Would you play 10 questions with me sometime in the future?
I think it would be interesting, to get to know CJ a little better :D

[cj]

Originally posted by Vick@May 14 2003, 07:40 PM
CJ - actually Serge didn't have anything to do with it
and due to popular demand I stopped

Would you play 10 questions with me sometime in the future?

Vick, i have come to the conclusion after many years that serge is luke ford ....

nobody could really be that much of a dick unless they were a character of someone with incredible industry knowledge, and a 'don't give a fuck about who i piss off' attitude ...

(i am practising my luke style journalism)

:biglaugh:

I think it would be interesting, to get to know CJ a little better :D

What could you possibly have to ask that hasn't already been discussed here?!?! lol

[Vick]

Originally posted by cj@May 14 2003, 08:36 PM
Vick, i have come to the conclusion after many years that serge is luke ford ....


I think it would be interesting, to get to know CJ a little better :D

What could you possibly have to ask that hasn't already been discussed here?!?! lol
CJ- think about it, Serge could not have written Luke's life story
He isn't that long winded and his English is different than what Luke was writing


I can think of a few not so personal questions that would be very interesting about you CJ :D

[cj]

The accent is fake ... he's not really russian ... born & bred in jersey, he picked up the accent when he played chess as a boy with the old guy on the corner ...

:biglaugh:

[Vick]

CJ - you might be right but ....

I've dined and DRANK with Serge in a Russian club ... and I'd say he was born a Russian

So what do you say, will you do 10 questions with me sometime, nothing too personal?

I bet it would get over 250 page views, maybe over 300
:D

[dig420]

Originally posted by cj@May 14 2003, 08:36 PM

Vick, i have come to the conclusion after many years that serge is luke ford ....

nobody could really be that much of a dick unless they were a character of someone with incredible industry knowledge, and a 'don't give a fuck about who i piss off' attitude ...

(i am practising my luke style journalism)
so Serge works for me now?

man I must really be somebody :wnw:

[cj]

Originally posted by Vick@May 14 2003, 09:32 PM
I bet it would get over 250 page views, maybe over 300
:D
only if you ask me about politics ;-)

:biglaugh:



so Serge works for me now?

man I must really be somebody

dig, I changed my mind ... if serge was really luke, setgo would have actual webmaster traffic

:nyanya:

(you are so cute, and so easy to take the piss out of ... i'm sorry, i'll stop eventually) :biglaugh: