We bring this up because, for much the same reason, it's so easy -- even for us permissive, enlightened San Franciscans -- to look askance at an adult who likes to dress up as and pretend to be a pony. "If someone's capable of pretending to be a pony," the thinking goes, "then they must be capable of anything." For example, what do you think is going through these onlookers' minds right now? We suspect that it isn't "how lovely." And that really isn't fair, because ponyplayers, according to Elizabeth Elson's documentary , are really quite reasonable, calm, safe, gentle, approachable, mostly-normal people (and who among us is any more than partially normal?) who have boundaries and limits just like anyone else, and are just doing what makes them feel really truly happy. Now how can you begrudge them that, you jerk?

But first, a few words from a lanky fetish photographer from Australia, who's also a recovering drug addict and an S&M master. Neat!

Born in a Barn