Saturday, August 21, 2010

Now I’m as interested in all this stuff as anyone.

But isn’t there a big, pink, dripping elephant in the room here somewhere?

The typical article likes to get a bit meta, dunnit, with a bit of “While I’ve been writing this article on my internet connected P.C. I’ve also browsed the book section in Foyles, listened to Stockhausen on youtube, got tickets to Stockholm, checked my emails and…..”

…..and looked at loads of Porn.

I don’t know about anyone else but one of the biggest factors that interrupts my long, boring hours sitting on my own in front of a computer is my compulsive desire to look at any kind of sexual activity every thirty two seconds, along with the infinite variety and combination of good looking women doing exciting things in numerous combinations.

Porn, in all its infinite variety and the low level, humid, faintly pleasurable, warm zone of furtive and protracted masturbation it induces is the big attention monkey rubbing its nasty glands all over my frontal lobes during my writing time. Why bother struggling with this essay on Proust when you could be trawling through Redtube to find just exactly the right Bubble Butt Latina Blowjob (xxxhot!!) Video to expend several gobbets of your precious seed on. There’s absolutely no way that the immediate availability of quality grot and the highly stimulating nature of its content is a significant factor in all of this, is there?

Maybe it’s just me. I’m sure you’re all too well-adjusted to be doing any of that. We know Guardian readers (and writers!) don’t Google porn, they are either too enlightened or somehow too elevated. You know those lies you like to tell your other half: it’s just never really interested me, the men/ women are so unnatural, actually I just find it kind of depressing and degrading. I’m kind of interested in it intellectually, but, I mean, it doesn’t turn me on. Is there now a single person under fifty in the developed world who hasn’t flung one over his thumb/ tickled the tuna with one hand on the mouse, anxiously hovering the little arrow over the reduce button in case the other -half gets back from the shops quicker than expected? Surely the death of the sexual imagination is worth considering, the co-option of interior fantasy space by the insanely unregulated porn free-for-all that is the world wide web. Ahhh, the global levels of porn addiction! A true human universal cutting across all classes and cultures! A prosthesis for our collective memory! A usurper of our individual capacity for fantasy too, eh?

Statistically 97% of users will have clicked away to watch a bukkake video while reading this very post. Don’t worry though; we all know that you, specifically, are in the other 3%.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

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.

Post-Continental Satyr said...

K-punk doesn't watch any porn, he jerks off on psychoanalytic studies.

Anonymous said...

I thought 70s public safety adverts were his boat-floater... for Owen Hatherly, ugly Wilson-era dole offices... Simon Reynolds, ugly electronic noises from cheap sci-fi... Chabert, third wolrders with raised fists... and so on...

None of these guys could bylines in The Wire or get book deals with Zero if they shuffled over the same trash as the rest of us mere mortals.