Caligula Revealed

The Los Angeles Art Show is one of the world’s leading fine art events. This year’s show, held in early February, featured contemporary work exhibited by more than 120 galleries from 23 countries.

Penthouse was part of the action, helping celebrate the 40th anniversary of the legendary feature film Caligula with Caligula Revealed — never-before-seen photographs shot on set and behind the scenes by one of cinema’s greatest film documentarians, Italian photographer Mario Tursi.

When Penthouse founder Bob Guccione was producing Caligula, he spared no expense in hiring top creative talents to write, direct, shoot, costume, and set-design this epic, sexually daring film. And when it came to documenting the production itself, he turned to a master photographer.

Mario Tursi was born in Rome in 1929. Following an apprenticeship as a street photographer, he took a job as an official photographer for the Vatican while still a teenager. At 19, he was hired as a photojournalist for Italy’s most prominent agency, VEDO. Rising to the top of VEDO by age 27, Tursi eventually turned to pursuing his deepest passion: film-set photography.

Tursi became the production photographer of choice for numerous celebrated directors of the sixties, seventies, and eighties. Roman Polanski, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Lina Wertmüller, and Luchino Visconti all hired this artist with a camera to document their movie shoots.

In 1989, Tursi won the Grand Prize for Cinematic Photography at the Cannes Film Festival for documenting the filming of Martin Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ.

Before retiring in 2002, six years prior to his death, Tursi documented more than 40 films, raising his camera a final time as an on-set photographer during Scorsese’s Gangs of New York.

While documenting the Caligula production in Rome in the late seventies, Tursi shot a remarkable 10,000-plus photographs. He grabbed shots of A-list actors rehearsing and cavorting, the swift building of ambitious, expensive sets, producers worrying over fine details as filming approached, a sea of extras being costumed, and Penthouse Pets being filmed.

Tursi’s extraordinary images help us imagine what it must have been like to participate in the madness and magic of a film that remains one of the most controversial of all time.

Thomas Negovan is an L.A.-based author and archivist tasked with the new edit of “Caligula” and preserving the trove of recently discovered raw footage. Learn more about the 40th anniversary release of “Caligula” at caligulammxx.com. Event photos: Tommy O

More on Caligula Revealed: CaligulaMMXX, Caligula Rediscovered

Exploring Sexual Health with Cam Girls

Sex, masturbation, naughty thoughts, watching porn, looking at hot chicks in videos … all these things are what make curious men proud of who they are. Exploring these desires is not only fun, but it’s healthy for the mind and body. Sometimes, jerking off can be the perfect medicine for all sorts of activities. Have trouble sleeping? Jerk off. Have trouble waking up? Jerk off. Have nothing else better to do in lockdown? You know the drill.

That cumshot is also a healthy cure for your emotions. Feeling sad? Confused? Frustrated? Impatient? Blow that load.

Since the United States is in quarantine (for god knows how long), the options of remaining sexually healthy must come from within. It’s still not safe to go to bars, nightclubs, or even meet someone from a dating app. But there is still the option to connect with hot cam girls online who give some of the sexiest shows on the Internet. These girls like to explore wild fetishes that aren’t so easily found in the dating world. Fetishes like feet, orgasm control, jerk-off instruction, handcuffs, giant dildoes, ass to mouth, and power exchange are some of the biggest obsessions in live sex chat. The greatest part is that these girls can be found within minutes.

Camster.com has thousands of women from all over the world who give seductive virtual performances online. The site has ladies in all different categories, including Americans, Latinas, Europeans, petite, chubby, blondes, brunettes, redheads, college girls, mature women, ebony, big boobs, small boobs, big asses, and so much more. It’s one thing to chat with a girl on an app, but to see her on the computer screen when she’s already in the mood for some online fun- that’s a whole new way to take pride in sexual health.

Check out some of the hottest chicks on Camster.com and what their best reviewers are saying:

Chloe Rydr

Chloe Rydr

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Divora

Divora

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Natasha Bluee

Natasha Bluee

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Angelica Swiss

Angelica Swiss

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Madison Locke

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“She’s fun, witty and full of charm, with a smile that will melt your senses, and a body that will have you hard in no time.”

Get your private show with thousands of cam girls on Camster.com …

5 Most Iconic Watches from the James Bond Franchise

Think iconic watches, and then recognize James Bond as hands down one of films most stylish icons. The fictional British Secret Service agent with a penchant for vodka martinis (shaken not stirred), loose women and cheesy one-liners is also known for his impeccable fashion taste. Continue reading “5 Most Iconic Watches from the James Bond Franchise”

Pandemic Horniness You Say?

Pandemic Horniness is Definitely “A Thing”

We’re living in a slow-moving horror movie and the world as we know it is crumbling around us. People are dying, the economy is fucked, and we’re essentially in full cockblock-down. The coronavirus pandemic is putting pressure on every aspect of our lives and yet we’ve never been hornier. Continue reading “Pandemic Horniness You Say?”

Facial Recognition Revolution

The T-Shirt That Outsmarts Facial Recognition Technology

Right now, it’s fair to say that you’re probably at home rugged up in your pyjamas and out of Big Brother’s sights. But the world, when we can finally enter it again, is waiting for us with millions of digital eyes. From license plate scanners, airports and retailers, to your neighbour’s doorbells that companies like Apple and Google market as security features, facial recognition technology is everywhere – ready to track, trace, monitor and commodify your every move.

To push back, privacy-focused academics, designers and activists have created wearable accessories, clothes and makeup meant to disrupt the technology.

Researchers at Northwestern University have designed an anti-surveillance t-shirt with a kaleidoscopic patch of colour that essentially makes its wearer undetectable to AI-facial recognition technology.

Facial recognition software uses artificial intelligence to detect faces and human figures in real-time. The algorithms work by recognising a characteristic in an image, drawing a ‘bounding box’ around it and assigning a label to that object. To counteract this, the t-shirt’s brightly coloured, pixelated patterns confuse and dazzle the technology, making it impossible for the AI to map out facial features fully.

According to Xue Lin, an assistant professor of electrical and computer engineering at Northeastern University, the shirt makes you 63 percent less likely to be detected by digital surveillance technology, but it’s got some issues.

“We will have difficulties in making it work in the real world because there’s that strong assumption we know everything about the detection algorithm,” she said. “It’s not perfect, so there may be problems there.”

From wearable face projectors that project someone else’s face onto your own face to avant-garde makeup and a headscarf decorated with faces intended to confuse AI algorithms, the t-shirt is only part of a growing number of attempts to rebel against digital surveillance.

If you want to research into the facial recognition source, we’ll help you reach Northwestern directly.

Your Name NOT Here

Going Back: Vietnam War Vets

In 1985, writers and veterans of the Vietnam War gathered for a literary conference hosted by the Asia Society in New York City. It proved a contentious affair, as scribes committed to the hard truths of their combat experiences went after Tim O’Brien and other fiction writers for bending reality into something else. Five years before the publication of The Things They Carried, O’Brien laid out his case for more imagination in war stories.

“I think that 200 years, 700 years, a thousand years from now,” he said at the end of a panel, “when Vietnam is filled with condominiums and we’re all going there to vacation on the beautiful beaches, the experience of Vietnam — all the facts — will be gone. Who knows, a thousand years from now the facts will disappear — bit by bit by bit — and all that we’ll be left with are stories. To me, it doesn’t really matter if they’re true stories.”

Hot damn! That’s both a snappy comeback and an artistic manifesto if I’ve ever seen one. Beyond O’Brien’s prophetic vision, though, I was struck by his description of a future Vietnam he and his cohorts might vacation to. That must’ve seemed a fanciful notion during peak Reagan America. At the same conference two years later, Jim Webb, Secretary of the Navy, gave an impassioned speech bemoaning the dangers of Soviet access to the Pacific’s warm-water ports via Vietnam — a geopolitical prediction that did not age as well as O’Brien’s literary one.

Less than a decade later, after the collapse of the Soviet Union and Vietnam’s government went through its “Renovation,” trade opened up between Vietnam and Uncle Sam. American tourists followed, including veterans, middle-aged now, some with families in tow, returning to see what had become of the place that took their youth and their friends. The beachfront condominiums O’Brien had dreamed about became reality.

Revisiting one’s old war region is a tradition of sorts, not limited to the Vietnam generation. Vets like Hemingway became expatriates and stayed in Europe after World War I. Returning to France and the former Pacific theater was an international staple for the Greatest Generation.

When I was growing up, my best friend’s father had two framed photographs propped side-by-side on his office desk — one of him as a young soldier, standing against a drab sky somewhere on the Korean peninsula in the fifties, and another showing him walking the DMZ in the early nineties, part of a visiting political delegation.

Some things change, some don’t. And yet, here in 2020, the idea of one day returning to Afghanistan or Iraq for something between pleasure and nostalgia seems as impossible as O’Brien’s vision must’ve sounded in 1985. Open war still rages in the former, while sectarian conflict continues to pop off in the latter. As for American veterans of the more recent Syrian intervention, forget about it — returns require hotels, not rubble. Much of eastern Syria is still years away from even the possibility of economic recovery like that.

“I’d love to go back to the Korengal someday,” my friend Scott Turner told me, referring to the infamous valley in eastern Afghanistan that’s known for heavy conflict nearly every spring, what the locals call “fighting season.” “It’s legit beautiful there. But come on — what would that even look like? We book through Taliban Travel Agency? Stay at five-star Mujahideen Huts?”

Most of my fellow Iraq veterans I’ve spoken with feel similarly about a potential return. With the notable exception of the Kurdistan region in the north, there’s not much affinity for the place we fought for and fought with and fought against. Recently I had beers with my gruff-voiced friend Matthew Mellina, who was stationed to the same part of central-west Iraq I was, two years apart. “Shit, man,” he said. “Part of my mind’s still over there, every night. Why would I need to walk that dirt again, too?”

Some Iraq veterans have found their way back to the country — as journalists. Nate Rawlings returned to Iraq in 2010 for Time. Roy Scranton returned in 2014 for Rolling Stone. Elliot Ackerman did the same for Esquire in 2017. And Phil Klay only recently returned from a devastated Mosul still recovering from the fight against ISIS. The parts of the country vary in these stories, as do the authors’ intents and conclusions. But something they all share is a strange, perplexed relationship between the Iraq of their memories and the Iraq of their return. And to a man they all went back alone, on a job, searching for clarity but finding only more dark uncertainty.

Resolution, let alone peace, seems as distant for Iraq as ever. Bearing witness to that, and chronicling it, is important — even if it reminds its chroniclers how futile it all can be.

When I started drafting this column, I thought I’d end with some hazy optimistic shit suggesting that someday, maybe, I’ll be able to take my wife and son and golden retriever to the corner of Babylon I gave my youth to, and lost friends in.

But as I thought about my friends’ comments, and went back to the articles and essays of return, I realized that I want to do anything but. My own professional life may point me in the direction of Iraq someday, and for that, I’d consider going. But placing my combat memories and experiences in a mental box and leaving them there is exactly what I needed to do to find a life afterward.

Opening up all that for something as cheap and easy as nostalgia just wouldn’t be worth it.

Matt Gallagher is a U.S. Army veteran and the author of three books, including “Empire City,” newly published by Atria/Simon & Schuster.

**Some 20+ years ago (as of this writing), Penthouse took a different angle on the Vietnam War and its veterans. You might that worth a look too.

Cam Girls in Quarantine: Blossoming Friends with Benefits

Strippers, sex workers, adult models, and performers, what do they do when they can’t interact with guys in person? It’s no surprise that this lockdown has derailed most peoples’ plans. So many have been getting laid off left and right during this quarantine. This has been leading people to expand their horizons looking for work while we ride out the storm of this pandemic. As it turns out, webcamming on sites like Camster.com is one of the most convenient jobs that was found right through the computer screen.

Thousands of girls around the world have explored cam modeling during the lockdown. With a job like this, no one has to drive to an office. No one needs to worry about social distancing in public. And no one needs a fancy resume. All it takes is a webcam and the confidence to be naughty with customers online.

For the last several months, Camster.com has garnered thousands of more private interactions every day. With nowhere to go, searching for cam girls online is not only fun, but it’s relieving- especially in a stressful time like this.

It works out for both the model and the customers who must stay indoors. This social distancing is no fun. What better way to relieve that tension and have fun than with a stranger online who will live out kinky fantasies? Not only that, but she could also be a good friend for her clients who just want to talk about their day. Considering that we’ve all been doing the same thing since March, that’s already one thing a model will have in common with her client.

Check out some of the hottest cam girls and what their biggest fans are saying about them:

Maggy Luna

Maggy Luna on Camster

“I fell in love the first time I laid my eyes on Maggy! She is such a beauty to look at, and such a sweetie to talk to!”

India Ivy

Camster India Ivy

“Her demeanor pulled me in. Her subtle beauty kept me there. I often wondered if a woman like this ever even existed, and here I was looking at her frozen in awe. I tried to find a flaw and couldn’t. I was transfixed, speechless.”

Eva Sin

Cam Girl Eva Sin

“My friend for life, super sweet and the best for a reason. Everything comes from the heart with Eva. She makes a man feel like a man.”

Maye Daye

Maye Daye for Cam Girls

“Maye is a sweetheart. She is full of energy. She gives a great show. She has huge twins and a fantastic body. She has pretty eyes and gorgeous face. She is a fun person you will enjoy being in her room.”

Adryenn

Cam Girls Adryenn

“Adryenn is truly a stellar model who really knows how to have fun. Intelligent, stylish and very desirable.”

Stay tuned for details on models’ upcoming party shows!

Eat Right with These Fresh Diets

You need not focus on the “die” part of diet. You can eat right, have fun doing so, and look great in your clothes — or, y’know, out of them.

The New Nordic Diet

It’s no secret that the tall, thin, pale people of the Nordic countries don’t have the same issues with over-consumption and obesity that we do here in the U.S. of A. People in the Scandinavian region have been living a semi-paleo lifestyle since their lean, seafood-loving ancestors figured out how to make fire and hunt. The New Nordic Diet promotes all-out Scandinavian specialties like elk meat and rutabaga, but the principle is a back-to-basics approach to cooking that cuts out all the processed crap your body doesn’t need, leaving you with twice the amount of fiber you’d get if you ate like a typical Westerner. In the book The Nordic Way, Arne Astrup, Jennie Brand-Miller, and Christian Bitz outline a strategy and provide simple, delicious recipes to help you adopt this fresh, forward-thinking approach to food and cooking.

Ketogenic

If you haven’t heard the word “keto” by now, it’s probably because you lost your auditory ability in a tragic accident that we don’t want to make you relive. The ketogenic diet is a strict meal plan that has had Americans in a frenzy for the last year. Although many health pros argue that the keto diet can be harmful as a long-term lifestyle change, it will get you fast results if you follow the rules exactly. This means absolutely no carbs, no empty calories, and no sugar. It’s a low-carbohydrate, high-fat diet that stimulates metabolic changes pressuring your body to use stored fats for fuel, which kicks your body into “ketosis” resulting in weight loss. So, yes, you can have cheesy eggs with a side of Canadian bacon for breakfast, but you have to eliminate everyday staples such as beans, potatoes, pasta, and most fruits.

Paleo (aka The Caveman Eat Right Diet)

Paleo has been popularized by athletes and actors for its simple, farm-to-table approach. The rules? Eat like our cavemen ancestors did back before we had guns, condoms, and toilets. You will munch on tons of meat, seafood, veggies, fruits, and nuts while cutting out dairy, grains, legumes, sugar, and processed foods. One major plus is that the Paleo plan promotes a healthy heart, and studies have shown that this diet has helped those suffering with multiple sclerosis. The pitfalls? It’s time-consuming, causes possible iodine deficiency, and there is no guaranteed weight loss unless you pair this with an exercise routine. The Paleo lifestyle means a lot of home cooking and meal preparation, but your body will thank you as it flushes out all the toxins and garbage you’ve been harboring.

The Flexitarian

Even though the Flexitarian trend gained traction back in 2008 (with Dawn Jackson Blatner’s The Flexitarian Diet), it has grown in popularity the last few years thanks to an endorsement by acclaimed food journalist and former New York Times columnist Mark Bittman. The Flexitarian approach to meal planning includes tons of organic, unprocessed fruits, veggies, and whole grains—basically, a vegetarian who thinks of meat as an indulgent side dish, not the center of his dinner. (For example, if you eat 21 meals, then your goal is to have 9 to 14 of those without meat.) The best part? Super strict (and insanely annoying) vegetarians will shun you based on principle.

Eat Right … and DASH

DASH (Dietary Approaches to Stop Hypertension) makes sense if you want to live a healthy life and combat high blood pressure (which is probably why it’s supported by the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute). DASH promotes eating the foods nutrition experts have always told us are going to keep us healthy—fruits, veggies, whole grains, lean protein, and low-fat dairy—while avoiding refined sugar and foods with high levels of saturated fat. You have to cap your sodium intake at 1,500 to 2,300 milligrams (for every 2,000 calories per day), but you’ll be amazed at how easily herbs and spices can flavor foods as you watch your flab and high blood pressure disappear.

The Most Bogus Health Trends of 2020

We call them Bogus Health Trends because our lawyers would not let us call them worse. You may call them whatever you wish, depending upon the company present, but you might not want to call any of these your own.

Activated Charcoal

Believers claim ingesting activated charcoal scrubs your innards and purifies your blood. But in truth? It doesn’t do shit. You’d have to swallow an ungodly amount for it to create any gut action, and it doesn’t even circulate in your blood. Doctors do administer mega-doses if someone swallows poison or too much of a drug, but you don’t want to go that route. For one thing, you’d be constipated for a week.

Just Silly: Gluten-Free Diet

Gluten avoiders can talk your ear off about what ridding their diet of wheat has done for them. But for anyone not suffering from celiac disease, or from gluten sensitivity (maybe five percent of us), avoiding gluten makes no sense and can actually hurt. For the vast majority of humans who tolerate gluten just fine, we need not fear the G. Gluten-free products (a $5-billion industry) are often fattier, saltier, more sugary, and regrettably low in fiber.

Unbelievable Bogus Health Trends: Extreme Fasting

Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey eats once a day during the week, and fasts all weekend. Believing it’s a “biohack,” he claims it enhances focus and sleep quality. Health pros say Dorsey’s routine could expose practitioners to dizziness, headaches, and fatigue, with possible liver and kidney damage. Experts also suggest Dorsey might have an eating disorder. He and his Silicon Valley bros may want to rethink the starvation lifestyle.

Potentially Dangerous Bogus Health Trends: Detoxing

The wellness industry promotes the lucrative myth that we need to rid ourselves of “toxins.” Its representatives extol juice cleanses and having a water-blasting tube stuck up your ass. Want to purify? Keep hydrated, exercise, sleep, and eat foods with fiber. Our livers filter a liter of blood per minute, the kidneys work their own detoxing magic, and fiber naturally scrubs the gut.

Worst of the Bogus Health Trends: Copper-Infused Sportswear

Brett Favre and Jerry Rice are pitchmen for copper-infused compression sleeves for your joints, and a belt for your back. Montel Williams, who suffers from MS, has pitched for a different copper-touting clothing company, claiming, “Tommy Copper truly is pain relief without a pill.” Well, Tommy Copper recently settled a lawsuit with the FTC for exaggerating what its garments do. In reality, these products don’t offer special health benefits. They add some warmth, a bit of support, but no more.

[Yep. Somebody call the Coppers. (Apologies. -Ed.)]

Bogus Health Example

Top Five Fitness Podcasts Getting Us Through The Day

Fitness Podcasts: The Dumbells

Fitness buffs/comedians/hosts Eugene Cordero and Ryan Stanger riff about “training dirty, eating clean, and living in-between” on this weekly show. Like many podcasts, there’s a lot of inane banter, poop jokes, and product plugs; once it gets going, though, their conversation runs the gamut of fitness-related issues: diet vs. exercise, weight loss, nutrition, choosing a gym, motivation strategies, sleep, injuries, lifestyle changes, and specific sports like boxing, basketball, running, and weightlifting. It’s chit-chatty and fun, appropriate for both gym rats looking for advice and couch potatoes in need of encouragement.

Fitness Podcasts: Good Life Project

These days we all need a bit of self-help, and this is the perfect accompaniment to any hourlong workout. Author/entrepreneur Jonathan Fields interviews guests who’ve found success in their respective fields (chefs, writers, musicians, actors, doctors, athletes), but are not necessarily household names. He engages them in philosophical conversations about their “good” lives, though unlike many podcast hosts, Fields is refreshingly hands-off, letting his guests do most of the talking. Their stories are fascinating and inspiring, filled with insights on how they achieved professional success, personal fulfillment, and physical and mental health.

Fitness Podcasts: The Minimalists

“Love people, use things” is the motto of podcasters Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, both former corporate wonks, now diehard minimalists. Together with their guests they tackle the subjects that all conscientious consumers struggle with: how to buy less, get rid of stuff, pay off debt, and make time for what’s important, like friends, family, creativity, and physical and mental health. Each episode broaches various facets of our culture of excess: living sustainably; diet, fitness, and self-care; finances and debt; depression, anxiety, and stress; relationships and sex; smartphone and internet use; minimalist travel; and sleep.

Fitness Podcasts: The Rich Roll Podcast

Each week, ex-slouch-turned-ultra-marathoner Rich Roll takes a deep dive into issues regarding health, fitness, nutrition, and spirituality with various authors, health gurus, and adventurers. Launched in 2013, the podcast has a massive following (60 million downloads and counting) and holds steady on the iTunes top-ten list. His interviews are relaxed and conversational, and some clock in at more than two hours—perfect for a long training run. Roll (a former substance-abusing entertainment lawyer) tackles heavy subjects like addiction, climate change, and endurance sports, and is a strong advocate of plant-based diets.

Fitness Podcasts: Oprah’s SuperSoul Conversations

Yeah yeah, we know: Oprah. But this is a great podcast for anyone just getting started with a wellness regime, physical or mental. With her trademark no-nonsense likability, the Big O interviews the kinds of gurus you’d expect: Dr. Phil, Eckhart Tolle, Elizabeth Gilbert, Deepak Chopra, Suze Orman, and Malcolm Gladwell, to name just a few. This slickly produced show is laden with catchy Oprahisms, and is touchy-feely to the max, but let’s face it—Oprah is still the shit. That woman gets the message out, and the message is good. She advocates bringing about positive change in the world, starting with ourselves.

Academic Feminism Turns Women Into Victims

The Perils and Prudery of Victim Feminism

Bora Zivkovic is a Belgrade-born scientist and writer who settled in North Carolina after doing research at NC State. Slightly built, with round wire-rim glasses, poofy graying hair, and a prominent nose, he’s friendly, energetic, and passionate about science and science writing. Photographed from certain angles, he has the look of a cartoon owl.

A man who helped organize the popular ScienceOnline conferences in the Research Triangle near Raleigh, Zivkovic earned the nickname “Blogfather” for his role as editor of the Scientific American blogs network. He also served as series editor of a yearly anthology of the best online science writing. Well-known for promoting science journalism, Zivkovic assisted numerous young science bloggers, and took pride in his efforts to encourage and support women interested in writing about science.

One day Zivkovic was having a smoke outside a Manhattan bar with writer and Scientific American blogger Hannah Waters. He bought a rose from a street vendor for his wife, who was waiting for them inside. The vendor handed him two.

“What’s that, one for the wife, one for the concubine?” Zivkovic joked to the vendor.

I find that funny. It made Waters uncomfortable. She said nothing at the time, but later, in a 2013 blog post on Medium, she deemed this and similar behavior sexual harassment. The article subhead read: There wasn’t any touching or overt sex talk. But it was still harassment.

That same year, two more Scientific American bloggers, Monica Byrne and Kathleen Raven, published posts accusing Zivkovic of sexual harassment, citing interactions from previous years they said made them uncomfortable.

But none of Zivkovic’s behavior came close to meeting legal standards for sexual harassment. There was no quid pro quo promise of advancement for a sexual favor, he didn’t issue a threat (such as warning of professional trouble if sex was not granted), and what he did wasn’t “severe and pervasive,” leading to a “hostile work environment.”

In the incident Byrne referenced, she said she’d known Zivkovic for about a month. She invited him to coffee in September of 2012, looking to interest him in her writing. Seated at the cafe with him, she mentioned visiting a strip club. Zivkovic then “began describing his own experience of going to a strip club,” she wrote.

After that, he got personal, talking about sex in his marriage and how he nearly had an affair with a younger woman. Byrne later emailed Zivkovic to tell him she was uncomfortable when the talk turned to sex. He emailed her an apology, and that was that. Or so he thought.

Something worth noting when it comes to Bora Zivkovic: He exhibits symptoms of Asperger’s syndrome, which involves difficulty reading and decoding social cues and understanding appropriate responses. Though he hasn’t been formally diagnosed, his wife and a psychiatrist who knows him, along with many in the science-writing community, have expressed the opinion that he does suffer from it.

Zivkovic has the Aspie’s tendency to laugh at the wrong moments and natter on endlessly about whatever’s on his mind. He doesn’t always seem to sense when his presence is no longer wanted. For example, he and Kathleen Raven were attendees at a science journalism conference in Helsinki, Finland. He’d arrived at the hotel late in the evening and texted, “Can I come by and see you now?” Raven texted back, “No, I’m afraid we have to wait until tomorrow morning. My husband is already in bed, sorry.”

Shortly afterward, there was a knock on their door. Zivkovic said, “Hi!” and marched into the hotel room. Her husband “sat shocked” in their hotel bed, Raven wrote. She added, “Bora grabbed me in an embrace, picked me up, swirled me around, and kissed me on the cheek. After a few minutes of small talk, he left.”

Weird, awkward, and annoying behavior? Sure. But sexual harassment? In some other zeitgeist, no. But in our current moment, many people would say yes, it qualifies.

After the women posted their accounts in 2013, an unfortunate number of those trained in careful, evidence-based thinking — science writers who knew Zivkovic — credulously and without compassion accepted that he was guilty of sexual harassment.

He was pushed out at Scientific American and ostracized by the science-blogging community he loved and helped build. In Zivkovic’s terms, he lost everything.

Of course, he’s just one of many men recently deemed guilty without legal or even social due process. What his accusers have in common — and they’re not the only women today to demonstrate this quality — is a festering passivity that can turn poisonous.

Such behavior did not emerge in a vacuum. In fact, it’s a product of twenty-first-century feminism. Feminists have gone from fighting for equal rights to demanding that women be treated like eggshells. Feminism is now a movement that disables women, ruins men’s lives, and destroys professional and romantic relationships between the sexes.

Understanding this is the single-best way for a man to avoid social and professional disaster.

AMERICAN women had some seriously legit grievances back in the nineteenth century and first part of the twentieth. They were denied voting rights, and once married, they had all the legal and financial autonomy of their husband’s hat or his goat.

Pioneering feminists rose up in the mid-1800s and began a battle that led to women getting the vote in 1920 and gaining greater legal recognition of their personhood.

Second-wave feminism — aka the women’s liberation movement — took off in the sixties and carried onward until the late eighties. But women no longer had a single unifying goal, like getting the vote, and feminism eventually splintered into factions.

There was a well-to-do white-lady feminism, famously embodied by Betty Friedan’s 1963 best-seller The Feminine Mystique, a socio-ballad of frustration capturing the existence of the cocktails-and-tranquilizers set: middle-class and wealthy housewives, bored and dissatisfied by traditional marriage, homemaking, and child-rearing.

Black women — already busy being ignored for leadership positions in the civil rights movement — were not happy that Friedan claimed to speak for a sweeping feminism yet excluded their experiences and interests. This led them to form their own feminist faction in the sixties and seventies. Latin women and other female minority groups did the same.

The 1960s also saw that mass uncrossing of women’s legs — the sexual revolution — and before long, up popped some female authoritarians with their sex-panic feminism. The most prominent? Radical feminist Andrea Dworkin, a man-hating neo-prude who insisted that the male sex lived to oppress, degrade, and dehumanize women.

Dworkin saw heterosexual sex as an act of violent aggression perpetrated by a man on a woman. (“Penetration is Violation,” a classic Dworkin-inspired slogan goes.) The purpose of pornography, Dworkin argued, was not to get off but to make women “inferior, subhuman.” (How porn for gay men might do that she never got around to explaining.)

Dworkin characterized women who didn’t share her views as dumb bunnies — basically idiots “colluding in their own oppression.” The argument involved a broad-brush diminishing of women, foreshadowing the infantilization of women by today’s feminists.

The nineties launched a third-wave feminism, a movement still with us. Once again there was factional splintering. However, the most powerful third-wave strand — still extremely influential today — is what I call “women as weaklings feminism.”

It grew out of academic feminist theory — the stuff of women’s studies and gender studies classes. Its intellectual foundation was a convoluted bullshit-osophy known as “postmodernism,” a body of thought as easy to grasp as a greased goldfish in a bathtub.

In truth, there wasn’t that much to accomplish after the European Enlightenment philosophers did their thing, rebutting superstition, embracing reason, and questioning how we know what we know. But in the 1970s, French philosophers tossed science and reason in la poubelle — the trash can — and announced there’s no real knowable truth. They wanted to out-radical the Enlightenment’s revolutionary thinkers. And they came up with a pronounced relativism. They argued, essentially, that whatever someone says is true is true — though it’s even truer if it comes from an oppressed class.

As pointed out by England’s Helen Pluckrose, a literary scholar turned critic of these French-spawned modes of thought, in postmodernism the intention of the speaker — what the speaker means to say — “is irrelevant. What matters is the impact of speech,” or how the listener feels after the communication is made.

Yes, welcome to the origins of “Sexual harassment is whatever we say it is!”

In postmodernism, you can pin a crime of thought, speech, or social behavior on anybody. You simply claim that something a person wrote, spoke, or did made you feel harmed or “unsafe.” And once you take offense, you can run with it.

Postmodernism has a race-based intellectual sister — “intersectionality.”

In a celebrated 1989 law journal article, African-American law professor and social theorist Kimberlé Crenshaw argued that black women get extra scoops of discrimination. Like white women, they’re discriminated against because they are women. But they’re also discriminated against on the basis of race.

As Crenshaw explained it, the intersection of these two marginalized identities compounds the discrimination black women experience.

As a legal point, this claim had enormous potential significance. In discrimination suits, taking both sex and race into account could increase the redress received by black female plaintiffs. But Crenshaw additionally called for “expanding feminist theory and anti-racist politics” by “embracing the intersection” of forms of discrimination.

Women’s studies and gender studies faculty jumped at this. They turned intersectionality into an identity-politics cudgel — one swung in the direction of white people, especially white men. In a reversal of Martin Luther King Jr.’s call to judge people “by the content of their character,” intersectionality became a pissing contest of victimhood and oppression. Under intersectionality, high status is not earned — it’s granted through one’s group membership. How many boxes can you check on the “marginalized” groups ledger? Lesbian? Black? Missing a limb? You get to talk. White women, shut up and “check your privilege.”

Of course, this is a kind of social original sin. You can’t control your color or whether you’re born with all the usual limbs — you can only control what you do.

For feminist academics, victimhood has become the new hustle, a way to have unearned power over others. They’re pushing a viewpoint (ironically, a paternalistic one) that effectively tells the world women cannot make it without coddling and special treatment. It’s why contemporary feminist activists feel it’s their mission to force men, governments, and businesses to provide for women.

Fight Like a Girl

But for this argument to fly, women must be viewed as weak, fragile, and easily victimized. So, like a rehab facility maintaining its patient base by giving away bags of heroin at a table in its parking lot, academic feminism has become a force for female disempowerment. It pushes women to identify as victims — an identity formed not by what they’ve done but by what’s been done to them — and to demand not equal rights but special rights, perks, and protections. (Notice us coming full circle, anyone?)

THE jihadi feminists of academia have had help spreading their dogma — from phenomena such as overparenting, the decline of religion, and the rise of the internet and social media. Academic feminists’ rejection of science has also played a major role.

Helicopter parenting — the perpetual parental hover — took off in the early nineties, galvanized by TV news-driven paranoia that every stranger who said hello in the mall was plotting to kidnap their kid. And now it’s given way to “snowplow parenting” — adults clearing every possible obstacle in their child’s path — in school, at work, and beyond.

Young people who’ve grown up having all conflict in their lives magically removed by an authority figure are, as you might guess, proving to be less independent and self-sufficient than previous generations. Yes, in 75 years, we’ve gone from the Greatest Generation, storming the beach at Normandy, to the Gripey-est Generation, with Mommy calling her grown child’s boss to complain on their behalf. Not surprisingly, today’s young women are ripe for a feminism acting in loco parentis.

Contemporary victim feminism operates like a fundamentalist religion without the God stuff. Women’s attraction to it is understandable, given the sharp decline in organized religion in America. Like traditional religions, this kind of feminism offers comfy, pre-chewed black-and-white beliefs — us and them, right and wrong, good and evil.

It also seems to fill a major psychological hole in people. We appear to have an adaptation pushing us to join groups — behavior probably coming out of how there were distinct survival advantages to living cooperatively in ancestral times.

Behavioral scientist Clay Routledge, who studies the evolutionary roots of what motivates us psychologically, theorizes that secular movements now function as a substitute for religious belief. He cites studies finding that “people who score low on commitment to a religious faith” are more likely to turn to “extreme political tribalism.”

As for how they’ll wave the flag of their allegiance — how they’ll signal their tribal affiliation — in lieu of religious worship and church socials, well, there’s…social media.

SOCIAL media platforms are today’s stages for communicating a belief system. It can be done quietly by posting a photo of oneself complying with a group dress code — such as when a woman dons a pink pussy hat and circulates the image on Instagram. But it can also be done aggressively by attacking a common enemy online. Within minutes on Twitter, hundreds, thousands, sometimes hundreds of thousands of ideological fellow travelers can be mobilized against a perpetrator of wrongthink.

As a bonus, this virtue signaling — conspicuously displaying your moral righteousness, your commitment to the cause — requires little actual effort or commitment of time. Why get all sweaty marching when you can just tweet?

Welcome to the Age of Endarkenment.

Like many actual religions, victim feminism rejects certain forms of scientific knowledge. Most consequentially, it denies research identifying basic differences between male and female psychology and behavior. Its argument, boiled down, is basically, Sex differences? That’s bro science. Without evidence, academic feminists insist that differences between men and women are largely (if not entirely) socially constructed. They claim that a “toxic patriarchal culture” determines sex differences in societal outcomes, such as how women tend to be kindergarten teachers and not oil rig workers.

But in reality, research shows men are far likelier to take physical risks — such as working on an offshore oil platform. Findings on sex differences like this are some of the most robust in behavioral science. The fact that these differences show up across cultures (and even in apes and other nonhuman primates) demolishes feminist arguments.

While overall, men and women are more alike than different, the sex differences we do see align with men’s and women’s differing physiologies. The late psychologist Anne Campbell explained that women seem to have evolved to avoid physical confrontation, which could damage their reproductive parts and leave them unable to fill their role as an infant’s primary caregiver.

Campbell believed that female self-protectiveness led to women’s tendency to be indirect — using hints and manipulation, instead of assertive speech, to achieve their goals. She likewise believed it was why women score much higher than men in “agreeableness” — a personality trait manifesting in being kind, generous, warm, and motivated to have positive interactions with others.

This is vital information for women. But thanks to feminist academia’s dissing of evolutionary research, women who might recognize the need to override their natural inclinations are instead flying blind — hinting and hoping men will suss out what they want and comply. Combined with women’s internalizing of feminist notions about their supposed powerlessness, this makes for a toxic stew. It can lead to things like young women, experiencing morning-after sexual regret, deciding they were a victim of rape.

WE’RE now living under two new norms — a pair of academic-theory-driven expectations for thinking and behavior dictated by our intersectional feminist overlords. Perniciously, these standards are secret. Yet those who don’t adhere to them put themselves at risk — of losing their job and being exiled from their social world, as Bora Zivkovic was, or being bullied by countless people on social media.

(Academic Feminism) Secret standard No. 1:
Women Are Children

Women must now be treated like they’re very young. They cannot be expected to assert themselves or tend to their own needs, including their need for personal safety.

For good reason, we don’t let 4-year-olds act without supervision. We don’t let young children ride their Big Wheel solo to the ice-cream parlor. Instead, we make decisions about what our children need.

But today’s academic feminism conveys the idea that adult women lack autonomy when interacting with a man on a date, at a party, or over business drinks, and hence it’s up to the man to guess what the woman would be comfortable with. It’s up to the man to be the parent in the interaction — even with a woman he’s just met.

And just as we don’t use adult language around children, it’s no longer appropriate to use such language around grown women. A University of Utah professor, Nick Wolfinger, discovered this after committing the speech crime of telling female colleagues over drinks that he’d proposed to his wife at a strip club. Mere mention of an adult-entertainment venue led to a complaint filed against him with his employers — a decade after he told the story. It cost him five months and $14,000 in attorney’s fees to clear himself.

Finally, women, like children, cannot be expected to be personally responsible for their safety. Simply suggesting a woman take steps to prevent sexual assault (like not getting blackout drunk) is now a thought crime. Propose this and you’ll be angrily countered by how men “should” behave, which changes how some do behave (rape-ishly) not in the slightest.

(Academic Feminism) Secret standard No. 2:
Men Are Sex Predators — Even In Their Sleep

A male Amherst College student, drunk off his ass, was accompanied to his room by his girlfriend’s female roommate. He passed out. While he was passed out, this female student gave him a blowjob. After her roommate discovered what she’d done and this friend found herself ostracized, she then accused the male student of sexual assault, claiming she withdrew consent at some point during the sexual act. Yes, that’s right, she said she withdrew consent for the act she was performing on an unconscious man. Since he’d been conked out, he couldn’t contest the claim and Amherst expelled him.

When we widen the lens to consider the behavior of (conscious) men and women in the sexual arena, we come up against a reality: Male sexuality is more variety-seeking, while female sexuality, generally speaking, is more commitment-seeking. One is not better than the other. They’re just different.

Because women can get pregnant from sex, they evolved to prefer men who are willing and able to “invest” in any children. But under this new “men are sex predators” standard, classic male pursuit — which is not the same as rape — has been demonized.

Men are horny mofos in a way most women are not. They evolved to “spread their seed,” not, oh, “save it for that special someone.” Truth be told, I suspect Bora Zivkovic would’ve catapulted himself into bed with any of his three accusers, had they given him the thumbs-up.

Ultimately, I think Zivkovic was a lonely guy hungry for human connection, willing to take whatever these women were willing to give. It’s like my dog. If you’re offering bacon, she’ll eat bacon. If you’re offering a dental chew bone, she’ll eat that. Whatever you’re serving, she’s eating.

A cloud of suspicion now hangs over male-female romantic interactions. Men are would-be perps and women are would-be accusers. This has led to “affirmative consent” policies on college campuses (and there’s talk of states making it law).

The edicts require that people ask for and receive verbal consent each time they move on to some new form of sexual activity. “May I kiss you? May I rapidly lick your clitoris?” Such protocols fly in the face of how sexual activity works in the real world — with adults sensing what move to make next. Personally, my boyfriend is my boyfriend because, three hours after we met, he walked me to my car, grabbed me, and kissed me.

In eliminating this spontaneity, we lose a good bit of the sexiness of sex, and for women, the feeling of being wildly desired. That’s gone when a guy brings in a notary with consent documents for you to sign. That sounds absurd, but it’s on the mind of many men, worried that they’re one unwise choice of sex partner away from life in prison on a rape charge.

For men right now, the best defense is a good offense.

Take precautions. Don’t be alone in an office with a woman with the door closed. Think twice about drinks with female coworkers. And finally, seek women as friends, colleagues, and romantic partners who don’t seem to go for the women-as-eggshells feminism.

Real change has to come from women.

There are women — like me — who refuse to buy into the victimthink. We speak out, despite the potential social and career costs. In time, I hope we can persuade other women that academic feminism’s denial of innate differences between the sexes is doing harm to women. As anthropologist Jerome Barkow puts it, “Biology is only destiny if we ignore it.”

Imagine if women were told that they might have an evolutionary propensity to be “pleasers” and that this is nothing to be ashamed of — it’s simply a function of what worked for the females of our species in ancestral times.

If a woman knows she might have a tendency to say yes when she means “Hell, no!” she’s prepared to stand up for herself in a way she isn’t when guided by empty girl-power talk like “The future is female!” and other such slogans (interspersed with complaints about how the patriarchy is keeping women down).

Unfortunately, feminist activists keep focusing on the wrong people, telling men, “You can’t say this,” or “You can’t do that.” We can’t control others’ behavior — we can only control our own. Until feminism — on campuses and everywhere else — stops being blame-oriented and starts being truly empowerment-focused, the future will not be female. It will be feminism’s future — at the expense of all the women it claims to be advocating for and all the men it criminalizes in its wake.

Amy Alkon is an award-winning columnist and author who specializes in turning the insights of science, especially behavioral science and anthropology, into practical advice. Her latest book is Unf*ckology: A Field Guide to Living with Guts and Confidence. Check out her podcast, HumanLab, where she interviews experts on human behavior. You can also follow her on Twitter at @amyalkon, and find her columns at advicegoddess.com.

Classic Modern Feminism Books

Facebook Live Suicide

Losing Nikki

Nikki Shriver and I met while working at a Daytona Beach strip club in 2009.

I was dancing my way through my bachelor’s degree and Nikki, like a lot of people, was searching for a more financially comfortable life that didn’t come at the cost of the 9-to-5 grind.

Every weekend we shared the stage, gyrating in the neon haze before captivated men waving dollar bills. Every night, we followed the same routine when we weren’t onstage: walk the floor in our heels, pick a table, take a seat, shake hands, and bat our lashes. Find something in common with the client and build on it. Close the sale.

Sometimes a fight would break out among dancers in the dressing room. Fights tended to be triggered by accusations of someone stealing money or doing “extras” for patrons. Management would lock the dressing room’s door and let us go at it. They believed we needed to “get it out of our system,” like some deranged version of Bad Girls Club meets Cage Wars.

After a scrap, a dancer would straighten up, pat some foundation on her bruised nose, and return to the floor like nothing had happened. The worst thing I ever did was throw a Heineken bottle at a dancer when I found out she’d been fucking clients in the VIP room. We were all wild back then. It could be a pretty rough club. But I never saw Nikki participating in any of the fights or wildness. She seemed to glide above this stuff.

When we’d sit at the same table, dishing out charm to get a lap dance, I’d watch mesmerized as the light hit her face just right, bouncing off her sapphire eyeshadow. She had blue eyes and brown hair, stood just a little over five feet tall, and had a quiet personality to go with her unimposing physical frame — she was different from the rowdy, more boisterous dancers. Most nights at the club, she dressed in blue lingerie and knee socks, her long hair swept to one side of her face, often pinned with a girlish bow.

As Nikki moved through the club, sometimes a look would come onto her face that I could decipher, since I was familiar with the feelings behind it, as were other dancers. It was a look saying, “I might be working at this club now, and there’s a reason for it, but I won’t be here forever.”

That said, some of the dancers had been taking that stage for a while. It was the kind of club where you could get stuck. I was working there to graduate college debt-free, and had plans to move to Dallas and see if I could put my English degree to work. I used to wonder if Nikki would be gone one day, too, on to another city or a different life, or if in a couple of years she’d still be dancing at the club, in her knee socks and bow.

A decade passed. Eventually I did get to Dallas, after time in Jacksonville and Hilton Head, South Carolina. And then one evening last June, while stuck in Texas traffic, a notification popped up on my phone. It was a direct message from a dancer I knew from the Daytona club. A group of us from those days had been close at the time, but over the years we’d drifted apart. However, we stayed connected on Facebook, where we watched each other’s lives play out in photos and timeline updates.

It had been several years since I’d last spoken to Nikki, but I was familiar with the basic arc of her life from her posts. She was a single mother with three adorable young daughters, and still lived in the general Daytona area.

The message on my phone contained a link, which took me to Nikki’s timeline. A Facebook Live video shot in the dead of night on June 5 shook me to my core.

Nikki stood alone in a murky frame, with an orange glow of what looked like flames visible through a narrow doorway behind her. Her once-long hair had been chopped off, replaced by an unkempt bob. She didn’t say anything but she was panting, almost hyperventilating, and the sound of her voice had a desperate quality.

Wherever she was had a low ceiling, and cramped dimensions. There were pillows on what looked like a bench to her left, and crockery on a shelf. As I stared, Nikki raised what looked like a blowtorch…no, a gun. A rifle of some sort. Then she turned around, walked to the narrow, partly curtained doorway, and passed through it, into the flaming space beyond.

The video kept going. The fire grew stronger beyond the doorway, and there were sounds of crackling flames and soft whooshes as things ignited. The doorway curtain caught fire, sparks flew, and then smoke began obscuring any view at all, even the glow of flames.

People seeing the video’s live broadcast posted urgent responses. I’m trying to get you help. What’s burning? Hey, what’s going on? Yikes, girl. This is scary. Are you okay?

The screen was almost black now as thick smoke filled the space where the smartphone had been propped. Suddenly there were sharp popping sounds, like firecrackers. The video had been recording for more than four minutes. And then came the worst of it.

Nikki began screaming. The muffled wails lasted a full 15 seconds, rising above the popping sounds in the flaming space beyond the doorway. And then abruptly the video stopped.

My head was spinning. I could barely breathe. I wasn’t sure exactly what had taken place, but knew it was very bad. What I’d seen felt like a horror movie. Except this was real.

Did Nikki just kill herself? That was one of the thoughts I had.

We should have known something like this might be coming.

The previous June, Nikki had gone missing for four days. Around 4:30 A.M. on a Friday, her 1997 Toyota pickup had gotten stuck in the Tiger Bay Wildlife Management Area, a vast wooded wetland near Daytona Beach. She called 911 in need of assistance, and during that hourlong call talked frantically and confusedly to the dispatcher. It was obvious she wasn’t mentally well.

Nikki told the dispatcher she’d been exploring the forest in her truck. She said her boyfriend had been kidnapped by “outlaws,” and that she could see spirits when someone was about to die. When police got to the location, they found a tan pickup stuck in mud, but no Nikki.

Four days later, around dawn Tuesday morning, Niki walked barefoot out of the woods, a mile from where she’d left the truck. She was muddy and disheveled, but incredibly, she had no serious injuries. Media reports made reference to her “survivalist background” and said she’d “spent time in the woods in the past.” Somehow Nikki had managed to take care of herself for 96 hours in a Florida cypress swamp full of alligators and snakes.

She told searchers she’d been hiding because she thought someone bad was looking for her. Police snapped a photo of her seated in the back of a vehicle wrapped in neon yellow rescue garb, mud caking her feet and ankles, face grim.

They took her to a nearby hospital for a mental-health evaluation.

And now, in the aftermath of the video she shot on what turned out to be an unmoored sailboat in a Daytona Beach marina, Nikki was again declared a missing person.

It would be five days before authorities found her, dead in the charred boat.

During this time, Florida media referred often to what had happened to Nikki a year earlier, in the Tiger Bay woods. But they also reported on something else that helped make sense of the horrific Facebook Live video, which remained on Nikki’s timeline.

The night Nikki shot it, a Daytona Beach woman named Betty Jo Garcia called 911 at 2:15 A.M. to request police action. She wanted them to evict Nikki from the boat.

“My husband’s been having an affair with this stripper for a year and a half,” Garcia related. “She’s been living on my boat for two days now. I was out of town, so I had no idea this woman was on my boat. I want her off my boat. I want to file a restraining order because she keeps calling and blowing up my phone.”

Garcia owned the sailboat with her then 51-year-old husband, John. It was Nikki who informed his wife of the affair. Betty Jo feared Nikki would shoot her if she tried to confront Nikki on her own, since there were weapons onboard (a shotgun, a handgun, and an AK-47, along with rounds of ammunition) to which Nikki could apparently gain access.

When police got to the Halifax Harbor Marina, they found the burning sailboat anchored 20 feet from the dock, mooring lines untethered. And they heard what sounded like ammunition exploding on the flaming vessel. Here is where the story takes another hard-to-believe turn.

Neither the Daytona Beach police nor the fire department has a rescue boat

at its disposal. They used a P.A. system

in an attempt to contact Nikki, and deployed a helicopter and drone, but didn’t spot her. As cops stood on the dock watching the boat burn, Betty Jo Garcia showed up and tossed a photograph of her and her husband into the harbor.

Nine hours later, nearing noon on June 5, police reached the boat, having received marine assistance from the Coast Guard and Florida Fish and Wildlife.

They found the 1979 Morgan Craft sailboat severely damaged, but there was no sign of Nikki.

The Garcias had informed police that Nikki talked of suicide during phone calls she’d placed to them, after John Garcia told her he wanted to end their affair. So for five days, the local news media ran with stories about a “scorned and suicidal woman” (to quote the Daytona Beach News-Journal) who’d set a boat on fire and then disappeared.

Finally, police found Nikki, under a large cushion inside the burned sailboat, which had been moved back to its slip. Somehow they’d missed her during the initial search.

An autopsy found soot in her lungs and concluded she died of smoke inhalation.

In the days after Nikki’s death had been confirmed, I felt shock, sorrow, and anger.

Her face kept coming into my mind, and memories from our club days. I thought of her three daughters, and Nikki’s own mother, who I’d seen in photos. I got angry at the thought of things reaching a state with Nikki’s mental health where she urgently needed help to stay alive but it didn’t come. I got angry at the thought of her body sitting on that wrecked boat for days. And I got angry at Facebook.

Meanwhile, the video remained on Nikki’s timeline. She had a private account, so despite press coverage of the video, only a limited number of people viewed it. Still, it seemed so wrong — obscene, even — that a video made by a desperate, mentally ill woman in the last seconds of her life could be watched.

I flagged the video to Facebook, and received an auto-reply for reports of platform abuse encouraging me to visit the Help Center to learn more.

Nikki’s birthday arrived in September. She would have turned 32. People posted messages on her Facebook timeline wishing her a good day in heaven.

The video was still up.

Shortly before Christmas, when I reported the video to Facebook once again and nothing happened, I sent an email to the company’s press department. A week later, I got a response with an offer of a phone call.

Although Facebook asked that I keep our conversation off-record, the representative I spoke to explained that the reason the video stayed up was because Nikki did not kill herself on camera — she goes off camera for this. An important distinction in the Facebook algorithm, apparently. But then the rep told me what I wanted to hear: The video had been removed.

People react to loss and tragedy in different ways. After Nikki’s death, I searched her timeline for clues that might shed light on her actions. One thing

stood out. It was a quote from the author Jeff Brown. The first sentence read:

“So many break down because they cannot carry the weight of falsity any longer.”

I’m glad Facebook took down the video, but when I think about how long it remained on Nikki’s timeline, autoplaying any time you visited her feed, it strikes me how this platform can be so vigilant about things like a nipple slip in a photo, or putting you in purgatory for posting a politically incorrect meme, yet this tragic recording played on a loop for six months.

With some time to gain perspective, I suppose the reason I got so focused on the matter has do with an experience that’s probably close to universal when a friend or family member dies in circumstances as dire as Nikki’s.

There’s a feeling of guilt and a feeling of powerlessness. You wish you could have done something. You wish you could have reached out to the person at the right time. That didn’t happen here, and I think my emotions pushed me to focus on something connected to Nikki where I could get some action: the video.

A social media platform like Facebook can keep people connected across time and geography, and that’s often a good thing; it can also be a place to express grief and remember someone. Nikki’s mom posted loving thoughts about her daughter, and shared how Nikki had struggled with mental illness for a long time, and how it was so difficult for her to see, as a mother. But as experts have been telling us for a while, social media platforms have also created new stressors in people’s lives, and can deepen, not lessen, that “sense of falsity.” Social media invites people to perform a kind of existential Photoshopping on their days and nights, packaging life for likes.

That’s not an avenue to authenticity.

Like most people, I’ve had periods where it’s hard to find the light, and it feels like the darkness is winning. Feeling inauthentic can be part of that depressive state. You smile, but feel nothing inside. You laugh, but it’s a well-rehearsed chuckle. You’re tempted to react to the void with impulse buys, or alcohol, or drugs. It’s a scary place to be in.

When it comes to mental-health treatments and our understanding of mental illness, we’ve come a long way. The range of effective medicines, the sophistication of talk-therapy approaches, the number of treatment facilities — it’s a different landscape these days.

Progress has also arrived in terms of destigmatization, and the prevalence and prominence of conversations about depression. In recent years, top sports figures, ranging from NBA center Kevin Love to boxer Oscar de la Hoya to Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps, have been upfront about their struggles.

And yet suicide numbers remain high, and it doesn’t matter how successful you are, how much money you have, or how much adoration comes your way.

Think of recent high-profile suicides. Soundgarden singer Chris Cornell. Beloved chef and Parts Unknown host Anthony Bourdain. Handbag designer Kate Spade. The list goes on.

The great writer David Foster Wallace, author of Infinite Jest, took his own life 12 years ago. He had a loving marriage, a stellar career, and a beautiful home in Claremont, California. It didn’t matter. His wife, artist Karen Green, found his body hanging on the patio of their house.

There’s more to do. There’s more progress to be made.

As Daytona Beach police chief Craig Capri said after Nikki’s body was discovered, “In the years to come, it’s only going to get worse unless we come up with a program to get their needs taken care of. That’s my biggest fear.”

But with luck, over time, this kind of speaking out by people in positions like Capri’s will help bring about more positive change.