Eli Cross

About me:

.. .. ..
Here' the music video I directed for the song Victim by The Cock Diesel. This was shot for my latest big-budget SexZ Pictures project, Hillary Scott: ICON, coming out in September.

I'm damned proud of this video. Check it out and let me know what you think.

Victim by The Cock Diesel




Now, about me:
I still use capital letters in e-mail. I cry a lot at movies, but mostly 'cause they suck. I have porn sex in real life, and film real sex for a living. I'm a sociopath, a nihilist, an anarchist, and, no, I probably don't like you much, either. I'm an arrogant, perverted, elitist, populist and even if I'm not actually smarter than you, I think I am anyway.

More specifically, my name is Eli Cross. Well, that's not my real name, but my real name is none of your fuckin' business. Because I work in the porn business. If you know my real name it's because you're a friend or we do business together. Or you looked me up on the net. Or it's because Vivid's brain-dead art director keeps putting my real name on boxcovers.

My job is creating the illusion of intimacy in the filthiest circumstances possible. Hollywood likes to call itself "The Dream Fatory," but that's bollocks. We're the real dream merchants. We sell people fantasies.

Therapists sell you the illusion that they are interested in you; that they care. Hookers and prostitutes sell you the illusion that you are desirable; wanted; sexy. The people who are threatened by porn (and everyone -- I'm sorry, I know I'm painting with a really broad brush here, but it's the fuckin' truth -- everyone who disapproves of porn is, in some way, threatened by it) will tell you that people like me are in the business of selling perversion.

This, too, is bollocks. That's akin to accusing a man who sells wood of peddling fire.

I sell fuel. I sell the raw materials which become the foundation fantasies are built on. The consumer -- the builder -- supplies the perversion, bless his pointy little head.

I've often said that we are Hollywood stripped of the pretense of art. Porn isn't art, it's commerce. We make tools for masturbating, just like a hammer is a tool for driving nails. When I go into Home Depot, I might be tempted by the very expensive, bright, shiny hammer with the laminated hickory handle and the precision-balanced head, but if I can't hammer nails with the fucking thing once I get home, it's no damned good to me.

That being said, I've made a few bright, shiny hammers with some artiface to them that you could still damned well hammer nails with.