My Cavorting with Canadian Censorship

By J. Deagnon

I have my petty hang-ups as I'm sure everyone does, and I suppose in our dealings with certain subjects our judgement can become hazy. Perhaps clouded by our personal preferences, we sometimes don't realize that the door swings both ways and that we shouldn't force our chosen beliefs upon others. I'm speaking of freedom. Call me naive, but as the dread creeps in, I begin to understand that freedom is a term used far too loosely in our supposedly liberated Western Civilization.

Being from Canada, you may think I'd have the same rights that any other person has in this so-called democratic society, but this is obviously some twisted joke. When you've been fucked up the ass by the Canadian Government like I have, you realize that your future is controlled by Right Wing Fundamentalist Stooges. The self-sanctioned Customs Gestapo have taken my rights (ha!) into their greasy, chubby little fists and ripped any vestige of latitude procurable to a free thinking schmoe like me. Anyway, I must reiterate two instances of my brush with constitutional rape before I dispense with the subject at hand.

I sent away to the United States for an adult oriented video cassette, (okay, cum shot smut tape) thinking that since I'm of "legal" age, I should be able to handle watching it in the privacy of my own home. Well, the Government of Canada seems to have a different stand on what we can or can't do in private). Instead of getting the aforementioned video, all I received after surrendering my hard-earned money was, a letter.

This letter informed me, in effect, that some weasly Revenue bastard opened my mail, then, after seeing what the contents were, viewed the tape only to declare it too adult for my sensibilities. The official ruling was "degrading to women". After the initial shock of this information, I was further informed that if I wanted my tape back, I would have to fill out a "B-2" form. On this form I was required to fill out various information about the tape and myself, then, in a tiny little box at the bottom, I was to tell Customs Agents reasons for thinking I should be allowed to view such an abomination.

I, needless to say, flew off the fucking handle.

Writing them a full page letter, I tried to justify my rights as a Canadian citizen, and why they were bile-spewing rat bastards. A few months later, I received another letter ignoring my pleas for freedom and giving me two alternatives:

  1. Send it back to the States for a full refund, or,
  2. It will be destroyed. (read: dubbed and sent around the office)

My patriotism for this country was so mutilated by this blatant act of censorship, the money was no longer an issue.

All this over a couple of people copulating on videotape. (Why do you think videotape was invented in the first place? News and Porno!)

The second time my balls crawled up into my stomach was a few days ago when my girlfriend called me at my pathetic workplace and told me that I received another missive that some video cassettes from California had been "detained". In other words, the cowardly Revenue scum ripped open another package of mine, perused the contents, wanked off over it, and in their cum-spattered frenzy couldn't pass the tapes on to me because their spermatozoa had gummed up the mechanism. The tape in question was the bogus video FILM THREAT magazine hands over to their hapless subscribers; "Shocking TV". The reasons for withholding the tape are hideously apparent under Section 2, Memorandum D9-1-1. (See Notice of Detention) Now, I have to call these motherfuckers and speak to some seven-dollar-an-hour ass-scratching, nose-picking public servant and "make arrangements for the payment of duties on admissible goods !!!" (More like TWENTY-seven-dollar-an-hour ass-scratching, nose-picking, etc. -ed) You've seriously got to wonder if turning to crime isn't the best way to combat these totalitarian methods of cleansing our chaste country, in order to get a little of what's deserving of us!

You may think that I'm going a little overboard for some smut tapes, but it's the principle. You've heard all the popular arguments for anti-censorship, so I won't rehash them here, but it's my right as a "free" individual to watch whatever I choose, whether it's art or meaningless trash! (Which is really which ?)

So, to help you poor slobs out there with similar unexplained problems with your local fascist organize, uh, I mean, government, here's just a few helpful hints to make the shipper or receiver's life a little easier:

    1. Disguise the package.

    The Powers That Be look for suspicious packaging, and even plain brown envelopes are a hazard now. What I suggest is to put the item in a much larger box than needed. Then on the outside of the box, put something like, "I love you grandma. Hope you enjoy the blankets!"

    2. Don't use your own address.

    When shipping or receiving questionable material through the mail, use a friend's address, and steer clear of company logos even remotely related to the film or video industry. Instead, use the letterhead of a well-respected charity organization or christian fellowship, and they won't touch 'em. Better yet, devise a completely unheard of bogus organization and print your own envelopes avoiding any pending legal action, if caught.

    3. Bring it over yourself.

    This is the most dangerous route. The best thing to do here, is to purchase the video or film across the border, then disguise it before coming back. Buy or take blank video cassette boxes and get a hold of one of those shrink wrap machines (fairly cheap at various warehouse outlets) and strip the labels from the "bad" tape, throw into the "good" box and voila! easily across the border, hassle free except for duty, of course. Those darn Border Patrols!

    4. Let your local video store take the rap.

    Bug the shit out of a mom and pop operation to get videos from distributors that carry weird and banned titles. Don't go to major chain stores like BLOCKBUSTER, because they dumped all adult title stock in order to sap the energy from the legions of swinish families that gorge on shit like "Home Alone" and "Free Willy". (Look, don't get me started on these Big Buck video chains or this'll take all day.)

    5. Safer Alternatives for Videophiles with the "Fear".

      a. Use UPS.

      This usually works, but it's a bit like playing russian roulette. Just make sure you send money orders, or, if you're the gambling type, send cash and leave instructions that you'll pick it up at the Post Office personally. (Don't forget your I.D., pinhead!)

      b. Move to the States. (Canucks, only.)

      This is a big hassle for people who have jobs and/or lives. Getting a green card is a nightmare, so if you're a real masochist, this is for you.

    6. Send tapes dismantled.

    Deconstruct the video cassette casing and spools, then send the tape piece by piece until the receiver gets the entire film. (The worst part is that spring that doesn't seem to fit anywhere, but good luck.)

    The ironic thing about the governments' tactics in the censorship game is that they aren't stopping anyone from procuring low brow culture, they're just making it a wee bit harder to obtain it. But that's half the fun isn't it kids?? And we all know that you always appreciate something more when you've worked hard for it!

    Well, those are just a few suggestions for sending or receiving underground culture, but I'd like to make it clear that I'm not telling you to deceive the government - God knows they've never deceived us. I'm just saying that you've got to search for loopholes.

    It's really the only way you'll get the simulated "freedom" you so rightly deserve.


Recently, I was given the chance to work at the head office of a certain Adult Video Chain, under the pretense of "editing" pre-film promos. This in fact was not the case. I found that the adult films that this Canadian chain receives from Montreal, (where nothing in American Porn is censored), and the U.S., is rather hastily dubbed to a "master" 3/4" cassette, then edited for Ontario audiences. I was to be that editor.

The equipment used for the transfers and subsequent dubbing is prehistoric, to say the least. The quality of the final dubs is absolutely sickening. Worst of all, the editing is about as professional as a biker sitting in his living room with two VCRs wired together.

The guy who was assigned to "train" me, (and coming from a fairly professional working environment, this was a fucking cakewalk) was a completely disillusioned individual, desensitized from his daily routine of hacking out cum shot after cum shot in literally hundreds of splat fests. The "guidelines" for censoring were not recorded anywhere. No memos, no legal type dossiers on what was permitted, nada. These wonderful laws were passed on (in this institution anyway) by word of mouth. He told me, "Basically, ya can't show shots to the face. If there's more than one guy on her, that's a no-no, especially if they're all jacking off on her. There's definately no slapping of her ass. (This was aparently considered violence against women!!) So, you gotta find the edit point where he starts slappin', then ya can't have her red ass in it either. I got this tape called "Bang'er 100 Times" and I couldn't even show a thing. She was covered in cum from the word go. But, it's over on that shelf if you want to look at it. I once saw a video where these chicks were screwing a retarded guy. It's not in the guidelines, but I cut it out anyway... disgusting..."

So this is how it worked!!?

The mutilated "master" was then sent to the Ontario Film Review Board (read CENSORSHIP board, changed, probably, after bad PR forced them to choose a more palatable banner) where they either approved the video or sent it back to have more cuts made. The object was to make sure it was sent only once, because the Video Chain had to make a quick turnover, and a tape sent back and forth was money lost. So, in effect, the editor was to cut all he was told, and if he was unsure of certain content chop it anyway! After spending the day with this yak, studying the chintzy equipment and studying the actual duties involved, I quit, siting wrongful job description, shit pay, and violation of my morality.

I could not become a part of editing out the only reason I viddy porn!


From: BLAST Vol. 1, Issue 8, December 1994