I tried. I tried hard to believe. I went underground. I went silent. I apologized. I went penitent, and I was penitent straight down to my soul.
And it was all crap. And I’m done.
This is a gentle note on giving up the last vestiges of personal belief that I have done anything wrong.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe that some people sincerely believe my doing them wrong, and some people have real tangible memories of it. However, since I have real, tangible memories of many of them abusing, hurting, cheating, and abusing others, I’m forced to come to the same conclusion as anyone who knows the most basic of basic neuroscience: memory is a construction, not a record. I am going to trust years of conversation, correspondence, and public and private actions, rather than the frantic moral panic of January 2018.
If there are actual people out there — not third or fourth parties — who feel I’ve hurt them — I’m sorry. As it has been for 3 years, my door is open. My name is public. My contact is public. My address is public. Various third parties, who have either volunteered or been hired independently to listen, are public.
But all I hear these days is complete and utter bullcrap. “I’ll have you KNOW that Jeff hurt my friend BADLY!” “Really? How?” “I DON’T HAVE TO TELL YOU!”
or
“JEFF STOLE MONEY FROM MY FRIEND!”
“Really? That’s awful. Do you have a canceled check, a broken contract, a contradicted email, a credit card charge, or anything?”
“YES! I have the word of the people who stabbed Jeff in the back, who swear up and down that they have no legal responsibility, although they have literally not one single lawyer on their side who agrees with them.”
Uhhhhh.
For three years, my friends have told me: “Block these people. They’re liars. They’re backstabbing you. They’re deluded.”
For three years, I have left my Facebook open, my email open, my contact open, my address a matter of public record.
What do I have?
Noting.
Bupkes.
Nada.
There are limits for everything, friends.
If you feel I hurt you, but can’t turn to the legal system, can’t speak to me, can’t speak to third parties —
— then either you’re a liar; or you’ve been submerged and (understandably) intimidated by the rage mob.
I’m sorry. Kink is complicated. I’ve played with far fewer people than most persons in the tri-state area who’ve been in the community for 25 years, but it’s still hundreds of people. I’m still accused of things like “holding someone’s hand” and “asking someone what they wanted to eat”, and somehow, these allegations are twisted to “this person has mass-assaulted thousands of people”.
I’m sorry.
I can give you the benefit of the doubt no more.
If you break free of the rage mob, you know where to find me.
Otherwise, I will put this gently: whatever comforting lies your memory may tell you, you are lying when you suggest that I’m an abuser, a predator, or a monster.
If you claim we did business and are unpaid, but have NO records of anything: You’re a liar. Sorry. It’s been THREE F’CKIN’ YEARS. I have tax and bank records; why don’t you have even a singled canceled email.
I don’t expect this to reach a ton of people; the convinced are already convinced.
This is just a personal statement:
I gave you the benefit of the doubt for almost 3 years. I tried to give up my life for you. I tried to live underground and silent because of you. And this was used, by a small but real number of opportunists, to burn up ever event, every show, everything I’d done that people cared about.
This is my official statement:
Bring your problems to me, or a third party, or anyone who’s capable of telling me what they are. Bring me a shred of business proof- I ran a business for 20+ years; my company MUST have made SOME mistakes; why don’t I see even that?
Otherwise…..
I’m done. You are no longer a consideration in my life, because I can’t have you as a presence in my life forever, without a damn bit of proof.
And we now return you to the world where I’m publishing my second novel, running a great new event, freelancing, and living my best life, and I no longer have guilt, because it’s abundantly proven even to the biggest skeptic in the world, me:
this was a scheme to get ahold of my businesses and my life, and you were so horribly bent on burning everything to the ground that you didn’t even do that — you just left a trail of ashes.
Go to Hell. No, wait. You already think this world is Hell. Here: Go live in the Hell you made.
yours truly,