Life, the Best Viagra Promotion

I get them in my inbox and I'd be hard-pressed to believe you don't, either. I'm talking about the loads of email spam, the kind that disgusts its readers and clogs up search engines and creates coding havoc everywhere there is internet.

Spam – particularly Viagra or ExtenZe advertisements from online pharmacies foreign and domestic – has become a thing I expect to see. If I got up to check my email and did not find these unwanted manhood-making advertisements, I'd feel like I'm in a parallel universe of some kind. They are always there and they read to the affect of...

“Strengthen your tool,” “wow her with your new member,” “make your manhood manlier,” “international potency pharmacy,” “add inches to your cock,” etc.


Yahoo spam-blocking sucks. No matter how many messages of this sort I mark as spam, more still show up in the inbox. The system never learns how to handle them with what has come to be called “spoofmail,” which is where you find messages to you that appear to have come from you or as a reply back to you. Pretty malicious tactics when you think about it. Google is much better in preventing this unwanted onslaught of garbage. I talk from experience.

As unwelcome as these bulk spam attempts are, they are a good indicator of the obsessive nature of humankind and why our lives become as plugged up and complicated as they do. Life itself is a Viagra advertisement. No longer do orgasmic-ally challenged men and women have to watch an infomercial and call the 800-number on the bottom of the screen. They get the info right in their inboxes, whether they want it or not. The shame of confessing that your needle isn’t up to its task is a thing of the past. Your secret is safe with the seller—right up until they decide to sell your personal info and set it free into the vastness of the Spamiverse for others to stuff up your inbox with “special offers.”

As cheap as email advertising is, just one positive response (a sale) makes the 275,000+ auto deletions and spam-blocks worth it. Those bogus email address extensions, like “.com.uk.is.ss.rs” and those spurious invitations to click on strange links, prefaced with broken English or foreign email message characters won’t stop some from turning into buyers.

But the internet has done over and above what we could expect. We can communicate in real time with someone in Los Angeles or the Ukraine for free from just about anywhere in the world. We can amass followings, form societies, start petitions, and build decadent communities in cyberspace—usually for free. The internet has made unions possible that will have an evolutionary impact, the likes of which we can't perceive. So many people are together now that otherwise would never have met each other. We've come a long way since having to send a snail-mail application for membership form that we found in the back of our favorite special interest magazine like we did in the 80s and early 90s.

But therein is the problem with the internet. Right after the charm wears off of saying “hi” to brother and sister in South Carolina or Missouri via webcam, and right after the arduous but rewarding task of teaching grandma how to use WebTV so that even technologically retarded 70-year-olds can send and receive emails, what is the next most promising use for the internet? PORN! Porn. It's sticky keys instead of sticky pages nowadays. Just as in working the bars, all we can think about on the internet is the “junk” of genitalia.

Nature doesn’t change, so that shouldn't surprise us, but what does surprise us but shouldn't is the anonymity that the net provides and how it fucks with our heads. With a simple few clicks of a mouse or the accidental clicking of a pop-up ad, every housewife stepping out on her husband can find 100,000 different ways to pull it off without getting caught. Every sexual deviant with a fetish for the next-door neighbor's Cocker Spaniel can go online and find a society where his messed-up type are accepted and sympathized with. Every quiet, glasses-wearing nerd with a fetish for ejaculating on kneecaps while holding a Barbie doll in his right hand can find more than a few candidate partners.

Unpleasant as it is to think about, every fecalpheliac who desires to consume the chocolate chunks of his/her lover in a mall food court while dressed in drag can meet up and fulfill the desires of his/her heart. Thumbs up for freedom of speech and unity! Thumbs up for bridging that gap of distance and turning this mud-ball into an interactive communication sphere! Thumbs down for those of us who expect normalcy. Ok, forget normalcy. How about just honesty?

That's why the internet must be policed; because the dishonest, lying, cheating, fucking scumbag phonies out there have allowed it to get to their heads that they can be whoever or whatever they want. They can live like shape-shifters in whatever form they desire, be it a 70th-level Paladin or a Don Juan guy, with long, flowing, black hair – created from photoshopped and stolen pics – who is looking to move back to the states from France and settle down after a successful, 13-year career as a nude beach photographer, photographing some of the most beautiful women in the world.

In reality, he's a fat guy 26-year-old with greasy hair. He lives in his mother’s basement and plays on his Mac. He won’t even give a shit about how his lying about his identity will affect him when he goes to meet for the first time the person he deceived. His head is too into the game to give a fuck. He’s a chronic masturbator charlatan who’s too lazy even to cognitively process the fact that he’s a lying cheese-dick who is tearing a hole in people’s emotions. He’s too lazy or just too full of Cheetos.

You’ve heard the saying, but if you haven’t, here it is…

“The internet: where the men are men, where the women are men, and where the children are federal agents.”

If only the truth was in agreement with this declaration. In reality, not enough is being done. I was contacted last year while perusing a certain chatroom. Out of the blue, I got a message from a “Meagan16” who said to me: “Wanna chat? I hope you don’t mind I’m just 16. Does that matter to you?” My reply after saying yes: “You are going to have to do better than that if you want to catch the pervos.” Bloink! The person logged out. Guess its time to start over with a smarter game-plan and a new username, huh, “Meagan”?

Daniel O’Brien, the 32-year-old man who plotted to abduct and molest a 12-year-old girl in Littleton, Mass. who ran away with him, did so: “to kiss her, lick her and suck her and get her to love [me] and have babies together.” This guy was a friend of a friend of mine. We were both in shock when the news broke of how he was arrested at a bus station while trying to run away with the child. I never actually met the guy, but I remember the long chats he and my friend would carry on with into the long hours of the night. I’m telling you, you are never prepared when you find out that you don’t really know somebody!

But abuses on the internet are an escalation of what happens in the typical bar scene: dinner and drinks or dinner and a movie—then what? We fuck. We defecate too, but who wants to focus on that…who but our fecalpheliac friends we mentioned earlier? Everything we do in life is to get to the procreating part. Nothing is exempted from that. That should bother the most and least religious of us.

First, it should bother the pious because religion gives you guidelines in using whatever acts as your dick-hardening Viagra. Religion tells you: “It’s ok to get off, just wait till you’re married so your horny, cumming ass won’t be fucking everything that’s not nailed down and producing kids without a known father. And don’t poke someone else’s wife so that the husband you wronged will not have reason to kill your ‘young, dumb, and full of cum’ stupid self.”

The scriptures imply – sort of – that masturbation is sin, but nowhere do they state it. The reason—religion was a tool to control in early societies what would naturally happen that could present problems for society at large, not to oppose nature (at least, that was not the intent). Every wise man who had a part in writing and editing Leviticus and Numbers whipped his skippy, probably not long before or after writing: “When any man hath a running issue out of his flesh, because of his issue he is unclean.” (Leviticus 15:2)

Secondly, religion gives one more thing—it actually gives an orgasm. The Christian spiritual fetish is: “He died for my sins and he didn’t have to” = tears, quivering lips, organ music playing, hands in the air = endorphins released = orgasm. It’s a different kind, but no less appealing or strong. The high it gives is no different than cocaine or booze or that hypnotizing new picture of some Lithuanian model with unusual hair. Something about her has made you soar for two straight nights. It’s all about the rush, the panting and elevated breathing levels, the feeling that the way things are is the way they must be, SO SAITH GOD!

Like most priests, the lot of us can’t go without getting our big “O”s, physical or mental (religious). We humbly confess our desperation: “We got needs!” We say so and we move on with no crisis of conscience. Religion provides one of these Os. This has some crazy implications for the religious; when you yield to the genetics-born temptation to poke your spouse, you are obeying God, and at the same time, your genetics. Must be God working through the flesh (for once, even though the scripture always repudiates the idea).

Before you got ready for church this or last Sunday, that 25-minute, closed-door, quiet bedroom encounter with your helpmeet, when Zachary and Devon were put to sleep, was already decreed—not by a deity, but by your genetics. Marriage is not “honorable in all.” It just has to work for society to propagate and function, so religion steps in to regulate it. Those evil little dickhead-helmet-wearing men within your genes have already decreed, and you are following their commands perfectly. At the end of the day, it’s the Viagra we want, the Viagra we need, the Viagra we must have.

(JH)

No comments:

Post a Comment

Follow by Email

SHOWTIMES & TICKETS
Enter ZIP Code: