In May this year, I flew down to the Sydney Writers’ Festival to be part of a panel discussing the Queensland floods. It was a one-off appearance, and after it concluded I found that I had several hours to fill before my flight home. Glancing at a SWF programme, jostled on all sides by diligent festival-goers, I saw that a session on pornography was about to start. This, I thought, might be interesting.
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