My present situation

Something insidious is going on in my family right now. Two of my relatives, whom I will not name here because I don’t want to give them undue public attention, are engaged in a campaign of spreading lies and rumors about me. They are also participating in a terror campaign to try to stir up local resentment against me, and they are doing this by contacting everyone they know, including all of my dad’s friends and co-workers, and informing them about me and my documentary and my activism. Knowing their political and social views, I also suspect they have ties to white supremacy groups. They’re purpose is thus: they are attempting to have me murdered without it coming back to them.

I want it to be very clear—these two relatives have never liked me, even well before I came out as a MAP, due to our strong political differences. In fact, I suspect none of their current activities are ultimately about my sexuality. Not really. This is all politically motivated, and is likely being brought on by the failure of Roy Moore to get elected—someone they both supported (thus proving my point about the hypocrisy of the far right)—and whom I obviously strongly condemned.

But I have connections too, and I have already arranged that if anything does happen to me, those two will be the first two people investigated, and I guarantee anyone else who is involved in an attack or attempt on my life in this area will have ties to these two relatives if you trace it back. I want to repeat that this campaign is purely political. These relatives—especially the older of the two—are unrepentant racists and supporters of the far right, and they are doing their best to try to turn my own father against me. These two people are immoral and have a long history of bad behavior, engaging in acts of arson, theft and insurance fraud, among other crimes. I would not be surprised to learn they had engaged in murder for hire either. Short of that, they may attempt to frame me somehow. Just exactly how they might do that I don’t know, but it is a distinct possibility.

I wanted this message to get out there so authorities and others know what is going on here. Like I said, if anything does happen to me, I have already arranged for it to be investigated, but I also urge my fans and readers to follow the Jackson Sun newspaper for the next few months, because it will certainly be in that paper. I’ve already made sure of that. And if it does happen, I urge you to contact the FBI and send them the link to this post. I will be leaving the names of these relatives with several individuals.

Thank you and God bless you all.

I’m in love!

Today I am writing about something I never thought I would write about: I have love in my life at last, and yes, she is over the age of consent. First off, I will say right now that I will not publicly identify her, so don’t ask me to do so. There are a few reasons for this. First, she lives in a country (I won’t name it either, but I will say it’s in Eastern Europe) where the status of females isn’t great. That, combined with the fact of who I am, would likely make life pretty difficult for her there, especially as she is still quite young and is currently enrolled in university. Secondly, I wish to protect her from the harassment and guilt-by-association nonsense she would almost certainly face if publicly linked with me, even if our relationship is still presently confined to online communication. Thirdly, it’s what she wants. She has no desire to be in the public eye right now in any capacity, and I completely respect that.

Now that that’s been established, for the purposes of this post and any future post in which she is mentioned, I will call her Zora. A few weeks ago, Zora approached me in Facebook and, though a bit shy and nervous, informed me that she had seen the Barcroft Media documentary about me and that she had developed feelings for me. I admit I found this difficult to believe at first and thought perhaps she was a troll or someone out to sabotage me. But as I got to know her, her story really captured me and I found myself dropping my guard more and more. And then I began to explore her Facebook page and found pictures of her. As soon as I saw her, my heart was captured by her beauty. I can’t explain how or why it happened, but for whatever reason I fell in love with this girl who was half way around the world and could barely speak English. We communicated through Facebook’s message feature, and this is still our primary means of talking to each other, though we have also Skyped. There is no question that she is real and that she truly loves me, as I do her.

What can I say about Zora? She is the most amazing, most beautiful, most awe-inspiring person I’ve ever met. She’s tough and vulnerable all at once. She is into virtually all of the same things I’m into—genre fiction, art, vintage technology, antiques, elephants. She is a pretty good artist in her own right, and I look forward to seeing how her skills continue to develop. She loves the same authors I do, and the same rock bands. She inspires me every day and gives me a reason to wake up in the morning. For the first time in years I am hopeful about my future. Of course, the fact that she lives far away and doesn’t yet speak fluent English are certainly obstacles for us right now; nevertheless, these things are not insurmountable. I do want her to come to America, and she wants this too, but I also want her to finish her schooling. This will give her the opportunity to not only get an education so that she can be self-reliant when she makes it to our shores, but also it will give her time to make absolutely sure she really wants to be here before she takes that giant leap.

Yes, there is a large age difference, and yes, neither of us have had a real relationship before this. These may seem like things that might divide us, but in reality they are the very things that have drawn us together and that continue to strengthen our relationship. As I sit here and contemplate my reality, I am in awe of the miracle that has occurred in my life. Until this point I never believed that true love was in the cards for me. Now I know that isn’t true. And even if Zora and I never even meet in real life or cement our relationship physically, I will be forever thankful to this incredible girl, as well as to John Balson and Rauridh Connellan who made that documentary, because if not for them, Zora never would’ve learned about me and never would’ve come to my virtual doorstep, and I never would’ve had the chance to fall in love.

I don’t know why life is the way it is. I don’t know why I was born without a right hand, why I was sexually abused or why I developed a sexual attraction to prepubescent girls. I don’t know why I have spent so much of my life suffering and alone. But I do know finally why I came into this world. There are two reasons: one is to be a public advocate for people who are stuck with a sexual attraction to children but want to do no harm. The other is to love this girl, and be loved by her in turn. The strange thing is, these two things are not mutually exclusive, for if a guy like me—a 44-year-old one-armed MAP who has long felt unlovable and that many people have mocked for everything from his name to his appearance—can find love in this world, then anyone can. Never give up hope, my friends. Your soul mate is out there somewhere, and he or she is looking for someone special just like you. I know it. 🙂

A couple of announcements

Okay, so first things first: there’s a new VICE article that is mainly about me that just came out, called A Pedophile Opens Up About Being Targeted By Vigilantes, written by Manisha Krishnan. It’s actually part four in a series about vigilantes who target pedophiles and sex offenders.

Alright, now for the bigger news. I am about to launch a new video series on YouTube called To MAP Humanity, which will tackle pedophilia from a variety of angles and in various contexts. The show will deal with this very serious topic in a more lighthearted way than the media usually does, with an emphasis on the pedophile’s humanity. The first episode is set to launch on January 7th or 8th. Whatever the case, I will provide a link whenever it becomes available.

I worked on a documentary this week

I decided a few weeks ago to finally participate in a documentary that featured me speaking about my life and my sexuality. I had been offered docs before but had turned them down for one reason or another. This time I was approached by John Balson of Barcroft Media, and initially I wavered on participating but ultimately decided to go ahead and do it. What I liked about this one is that it would only require two days of filming. And I’ve been working my way up to more and more exposure, so I suppose I was just ready.

John and his cameraman, Rauridh (pronounced like Rory) Connellan, flew down last Wednesday night, and I met up with them at 1 PM on Thursday in my local McDonald’s parking lot. I liked them immediately. They were younger than I imagined they would be—in their mid-twenties—and both were originally from London and had pronounced English accents, though they’ve lived in New York City for the last couple of years. They were generous, pleasant and very down-to-earth. I was still a bit nervous that first day and I’m sure it showed, but they just had a way about them that put me at ease. I took them to a local restaurant called the Saw Meal, where we ate lunch and discussed what we were going to be doing over the next few days.

Then I led them to the local boat ramp to do some initial filming. It was about 2:30 PM at this point and the temperature had climbed to the high 90s on the Fahrenheit scale, with a heat index of 105 degrees. I began to sweat buckets immediately and had a soaked t-shirt in minutes. For some reason I had opted to wear long pants, socks and tennis shoes instead of my customary shorts and sandals for such weather. I suppose I thought it would be more stylish on camera. Needless to say, it was a choice I soon regretted, and I am relatively certain almost none of that footage will be usable in the end. Oh, well.

I then decided to go ahead and take them back to my house, even though I had initially told them I didn’t want to do any shooting at or near there. I live in an old, well-worn mobile home inherited from my grandmother, and it’s currently in the midst of being repaired and redecorated. Moreover, I’m a pretty typical bachelor as well as a creative type: not a disgusting slob (I don’t leave old food lying around or anything, and I regularly wash my dishes and clean my bathrooms), but not exactly neat and tidy either. There are books, note-stuffed folders and artist’s implements lying everywhere. Meaning that my place isn’t exactly photogenic, though Rauridh assured me the backgrounds would be blurred out anyway. I’m holding him to that. You hear my, Rauridh? You better not make me look like a slob! 😉

I changed my clothes and we shot some interior stuff. I was still sweating somewhat, even though my house was much cooler than the outdoors. It just seemed like everything was at such a hectic pace, something I’m not used to. Again, they both assured me I was doing fine. I’m still not sure if they were being sincere or just encouraging me to continue, but for the most part it worked. Eventually they departed for their hotel room to get some supper, but they returned about an hour-and-a-half later and we resumed shooting till about 8 PM, including another go at the river. This time it wasn’t as hot, but some river-dwelling dolt was running a loud, obnoxious machine right across the river the entire time we were there, disturbing the sensitive sound equipment Rauridh was using. I don’t think much of that is going to be usable unless they overlay some of the sound portion from an earlier interview session over it and just keep the video portion. After that we called it an evening.

The next day they showed up at my place about 11 AM. I was much calmer on Friday, and it was also not nearly as hot and humid, so I wasn’t as prone to sweating my behind off. We did the bulk of the heavy interviewing in my house that day, and it was quite successful, I think. They also wanted to talk to me out on the front porch, but as it was quite cluttered, we had to do some rearranging first. As the guys were in the process of moving around some pieces of plywood, I spotted a huge spider sitting on the wood and called them over.

“You guys know what that is?” I asked.

Neither did.

“It’s a brown recluse. You don’t want to mess with those.” I grabbed a broom and prepared to nail it, but John stopped me.

“No, don’t, it’s bad luck to kill a spider!” he stated firmly.

Raurigh was more sensible and refused to proceed until it was dead. I reassured John that I wouldn’t kill it but merely shoo it away as he went inside to visit the bathroom, and when he was out of sight, I promptly bashed the critter with the broom, much to Rauridh’s amusement. Sorry, John. I have no problem with non-venomous spiders at all, and if it had been nearly any other species I would happily have let it be, but I take no chances with brown recluses or black widows, the two major venomous varieties of spider in my region. With the spider defeated, we did some more of the interview here, until I again started to sweat. Though it took longer to get to that point, so I think most of that will come out all right in the end.

Finally, we jumped in the silver Dodge Charger the guys had rented and sped toward Nashville to shoot the final segment. It was around 6 PM when we arrived in Nashville. We left the car in a parking garage and walked down to one of the nearby bar districts, which was booming that Friday night. The guys had some really fun ideas for shooting amidst the crowd, and we managed to get most of it without too much interference from drunk and/or curious revelers on the street.

With John and Rauridh’s mission complete, we said our goodbyes and they hired an Uber driver to take me home, as they were catching a plane back to NYC from Nashville. It was around 7:30 PM at this point. My driver was an older fellow, quite chatty and personable. I liked talking with him but was more than eager to get home. This had already gone way past my comfort threshold. The things you do for art . . .

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be until sometime around midnight when we finally rolled into my driveway, as we ran into a major accident on I-40 just outside of Nashville that shut the interstate down for hours and slowed traffic to a crawl. Ironically, we were about six miles from the next exit, but it took us nearly two hours to get to it. Once we did, we took a detour that added another half hour to the trip. But boy, was I glad to be home! I thanked my poor driver profusely and tipped him $20, knowing it would be around 3 AM before he finally made it home. And that was the end of it.

The next day I just relaxed and took it all in. This was, to date, the most intimate media exposure and involvement I’ve had. I enjoyed it, but I’m not sure I want to repeat it again soon. Even so, I made $250 on it—not bad for two days’ work, eh?