I had a long day in the city yesterday, and I didn't get back home until after midnight to check my email and attempt, vaguely, to play catch-up. What I found were a number of comments waiting for approval on a few of my recent posts that, as good-intentioned as they might have been, were simply unacceptable.
I thought perhaps I was reading them through a filter of crankiness and weariness, but upon going through them again this morning, I still find them offensive.
So I'd like to make a blanket statement, for now and the future. I like my readers to comment upon my posts. When I receive comments, it lets me know that people are reading and digesting what I write. It encourages me to write more. Thank you for the comments you make, very much.
However, you are guests here—not only in my blog, but in my bed, and in my sexual history. I don't find it acceptable to visit and to be accusatory and rude, or with the express purpose of lecturing me.
When I'm writing about events that occurred over 35 years ago, I'm simply writing about things that happened to me, as I remember them happening to me. It's impossible for me to go back in a time machine and change my responses or choices, distressing as you may find them.
It's not acceptable to develop psychosexual histories of my partners in your imaginations and then react to them hysterically, as if they were god-given fact.
It's not acceptable to claim that my patterns of sexual behavior are 'criminal.' There are no laws against having many sexual partners, nor against fucking raw.
In the future I simply will not be publishing comments that are impolite, whether to me or to the people I write about in here. Even when it comes to disagreement, there are ways to state your opinions in a respectful manner that does not bludgeon me—or the vast majority of my peaceable commenters—over the head with your moral superiority. I encourage you to explore those avenues instead.