My cracker ally Mike South alerted me to one of the Come On, Let’s Face It inevitabilities of the expanded 2257 recordkeeping requirements: conscious assholery.
A man purporting to be the 2257 documentarian of an east coast porn company, the guy responsible for getting the real names and addresses of models to prove they are not underage (even when the shoot might be a MILF/gerontophile title), says he “has plans” for the shitload of names, addresses, and pictures of porn stars his company has on file.
As you well know, the adult business has a proud tradition of shooting itself in the foot (in much the same way my neighbor this year shot himself in the foot with a nail gun, except less funny) and those wishing ill on the porn industry would be doubly pleased if such a Paris Hilton-level breach of privacy from within resulted in a chilling of people wanting to get in the industry, fearing disclosure of something more valuable than, say, an anal cherry.
There is nothing more sacred than someone’s porn name. And if that is compromised, I can guarantee you that we will see dolphins riding on bicycles.
Are the “real identities” behind porn names that big a deal?
Doesn’t everyone know your real name is Anastasia Beaverhausen?