Should we just quietly draw a veil over that porn post below?
Actually there’s a good comment in the box which I’ll reproduce here, as typically its better than my initial post.
"Well I can confess that between all the left-wing news, music downloads, youtube, emails, high theory and shopping for books/CDs that have been banished from the high st. (but NOT the highly alienating, panopticon-with-a-smiley-face Facebook!) I've probably used about 95% of my internet time looking at/waiting for porn.
The bogus horror (of MEN) when I admit to this is shocking. It points to a general wave of denial, bullshit and hypocrisy among western manhood. Funny how those who claim to have nothing but healthy, equal, sexually fulfilling relationships still manage to understand whatever crude sexual terms the porn industry throws up every few years. Funny how no-ones Facebook 'status' never says: "...has been wanking furiously over the degradation of Hungarian ladies since sunrise".
The lack of comments on this matter belies the 'wall of silence' around the whole issue. Yeah 'everyone' is talking about 'Inception' - in the few minutes between thinking about the vast marketplace of fetishes, frustrations and ugly desires that arguably feed into the rage, hate, vanity and childish feuding that the internet thrives on (I'd be interested to see any correlation between online porn and the level of masturbatory resentment that passes for 'comment' on 'news' sites these days).
An other interesting aspect of online porn is how, just over a decade ago, most of us only ventured out to buy 'grumble' during times of stress, extreme boredom, rejection, loneliness or drunk confusion. Now we can accelerate our sense of the above 24/7 without the fear that our ex-girlfriend's mother will walk into the newsagent during our 'moment of truth'. Or indeed, avoid the teenage rite of passage of watching it in groups, laughing a bit too loudly at the bad dialogue while desperate to depart to privacy as soon as the video's over."
Internet Porn is perfect for not having to publically/personally own your actions though, innit? i mean back in the pre-Internet days I never bought a porn mag or rented a video because effectively I was standing in front my local newsagent/store owner saying " hello.... in about twenty minutes, I'll be drinking a can of special brew in my bedsit and knocking one out over this". I could never do it, I was just too embarrassed, even when drunk. I remember being repeatedly amazed too by that long vanished British institution the be-suited businessman who violently scans jazz mags in the W.H. Smiths on provincial stations with his right eye while also somehow managing to look testily around the entire store with his left.
So it has several advantages, specifically for those of us who always lacked the nerve to face up to the guy in the All-night garage with a pint of milk and a copy of Razzle. Primarily though because it's free, it's completely secret, it’s in your home, there’s a certain amount of comforting disavowal. It’s all just THERE anyway, you yourself are not the consumer or the audience for/of this stuff, it’s all there for the other (you may even experience a kind of wearily amused and pleasurable contempt for its “real” consumers as you click through) and you can dismiss your own involvement as just a kind of browsing/surfing. This I would assume is the legitimating strategy for the “educated” porn consumer. It’s a spot of dabbling, a bit of research: this is the distancing effect, the raising of a slightly sanctimonious shield. Rather as I imagine there’s a comforting sense of alloof dismay around exactly this kind of conversation: isn’t it all just so obvious and commonplace that it doesn’t really get us anywhere talking about it. This thinking is an attempt to appeal to your own “sophistication”, to conjure away discomfort by adopting a blasé posture. It’s so banal it’s not even worth thinking about, darling.
Maybe not, but I’m in the mood to and if it is all banal I’m sure you, dearest blogreader, will patiently indulge me.
There’s always someone who likes to trot out the statistic that men think about sex every 13.7 seconds or some such. I don’t know about anyone else but most of my adult life post-puberty seems to have been one long, sustained, speculative sexual reverie punctuated by occasional moments of focus and engagement. This has tailed off as I’ve got older, and its generally been dissipated in the early honeymoon phases of a new relationship, but still…there must surely be a massive degree to which the internet intervenes in this, takes control of it. I have friends who are/have been effectively addicted to porn. Its kind of like the introduction of a naturally occurring hormone through external means in one way, once the imagination shuts down because its function ( to provide a semi-continuous stream of sexual fantasies, among other things) can be replaced by a “prosthesis” then the tendency is instead to click through every 6.2 seconds or whatever. If you’re telling me that consciousness isn’t (a.o.t) a battleground, a war of attrition, between focus and (primarily sexual) fantasy then I’ll have to believe you, I suppose.
One odd thing about conversations about masturbation that always struck me was that men would happily give you all the details of their sexual conquests and successes in graphic detail, but almost no-one (with the notable and noble exception of Bonsai Silverback, who was possibly over-keen at times ) wants to talk about their masturbatory habits /fantasies, yet it always seemed in much poorer taste/much more obviously a part of male mutually aggrandizing bullshit to talk about the sex you’d just had.
I’ve definitely adopted the strategy of knocking a quick one out in the bathroom (don’t go near that computer in any kind of libidinal torment, you may tell yourself it’ll be a perfunctory affair, it won’t be) before settling down to get some serious work done.
Which is how I managed to write this response so quickly.