You like porn.
Yeah, you do. I can tell. You’re breathing. If you can’t breathe right now, chances are it’s because you’re into even crazier ways of getting off than the people willing to admit they like porn.
A few of you probably missed the porn debate, Wednesday, because you were busy masturbating. It’s a time commitment, I know. I like to cuddle afterward, too.
But the issues brought up at the debate are important. Not because America’s moral fiber is being degraded by nudie films, as the good reverend tried to espouse. The only time nudity threatened my way of life is when I was nearly blinded when a girl’s tassel flew off during a burlesque show in Montreal.
The issues brought up at the debate are important because it’s yet another instance of someone trying to tell you how to practice your sexuality, and it wasn’t me.
I trust me. I’m not going to say something ridiculous like “you’re going to be disappointed with sex, if you aren’t already, because it doesn’t measure up to porn,” like the witch-hunting pastor Chris Gross said.
When someone talks about porn’s effects on emotional and physical sexual relationships, what they are talking about is masturbation. The impact of fantasizing and friction on those relationships, essentially.
I’m not going to defend the objectification of men and women which XXX flicks encourage. Or the objectification driven by PG movies. Or the effects of advertising campaigns for generations.
Blame should not necessarily rest equally across those mediums just as it’s certainly not spread evenly across genders, but reserving so much outrage for this erupting format and then justifying it by transmogrifying it into the root cause for a social ill that has spanned generations is unjustified.
If porn weren’t so accessible today, parents would still be rubbing it to the underwear sections of catalogs like their parents and their grandparents before them.
That’s the least sexually appetizing sentence I’ve ever written. Maybe the pastor should employ me to kill libidos.
If porn’s doing that job for you already, you have another ages-old problem that crosses into numerous aspects of life, addiction.
Pornography can be part of a sexual relationship with someone other than you. Even if that’s not the case due to one partner being uncomfortable with bringing it into the bedroom, it doesn’t have to be a life-altering part of your week or day.
When it becomes a part of your hourly schedule, or is interfering with your sex life rather than adding to it, it’s time to realize you have a problem. A problem on your hands.
If you’re perception of another person is being skewed so intrinsically that you can’t differentiate between reality and fiction, or if you just can’t stop touching yourself, delete your porn.
Go to that folder. You know which one, that folder which is in a folder, which is in yet another folder named something banal like “Horticulture” and get rid of it.
If not, enjoy yourself.
