5G, 36DD, & The Internet of (Unsavoury) Things
28th August 2019
5G, 36DD, & THE INTERNET OF (UNSAVOURY) THINGS.
YOU CAN LEAVE YOUR HAT ON.
ANGLES, INCHES & INTIMATE CLINCHES.
THE TOP SHELF.
THE HUMAN CONDITION.
5G, 36DD, & THE INTERNET OF (UNSAVOURY) THINGS.
"What the hell is the world coming to?"
To think Beauford T Justice was saying that back in the 70's ... imagine jumping in the Delorean, hitting 88mph and bringing him Back To The Future, back to good old 2019 ... I'd love to see Jackie Gleeson in character one last time with a smartphone and the internet that we have today. We all know the first thing that he'd look up too ... oof!
Of course, zipping back to good old 1985 when I was a kid, or even 1995 when I was a teenager, porn had always been around on VHS and in magazines long before the internet. But it wasn't easy to get hold of like it is today. Especially if you were under 18. Even soft porn.
An overly large or pert pair of knockers on page 3 of The Sun newspaper was about as hard core as you could access in the early 90's when I was a teen.
Ironically whilst that's all been stopped today in the name of women's rights; and what I mean by that is, women who don't like seeing this kind of work, shutting down decent incomes for a lot of women who like doing this kind of work; somehow today, hardcore online porn has become more easily accessible than a bag of crisps?
I would normally say that I'm not quite sure how that all happened exactly, only I am, because it was without doubt ... due to the arrival of the internet.
As such, due to the timing of the internet's arrival at home in the late 90s, and due to broadband only even being introduced in the UK at the turn of the millennium, I never saw hard core online porn myself until my early 20's. And even then as a young sexually active adult, it was a compelling eye opener. It made me question things. It made me question myself ... it made me feel somewhat inadequate if I'm perfectly honest.
Today, it's estimated that over 70% of worldwide internet traffic consists of pornography. That's a staggering amount of data. Staggering. Data traveling along huge cables under the oceans to every continent, before being re-directed to every country around the globe. Data that travels at high speed right below our very feet via underground copper and fibre optic cables to our homes. Data that is transmitted though the air waves to devices that are virtually glued to the palm of our hands. Devices that stealthily dictate what our eyes are looking at for large portions of the day. A direct result of carefully constructed algorithms and meticulously planned digital dopamine hits that keep our brains hooked and craving this data without us even realising it. Porn data, that is all going through peoples eyeballs directly into their brains and affecting their hormones and emotions, affecting how they think on a daily basis. Hundreds of millions of people across the planet, simultaneously being influenced by online porn data on a daily basis. In secret. A secret they hide from their parents and partners on a daily basis. Their pupils dilate as their hormones kick in, enabling them to take in more of the data faster. Every curve, every shape, every proportion. Curves, shapes, and proportions that the natural world and society keeps out of bounds from them. It affects how people feel about themselves. It affects how people feel about their partner. It drives an invisible wedge in relationships as people become scared of the consequences of communicating their secret behaviour to their partners ... and probably for good reason. It affects the very fabric of peoples relationships together. And it all can be, and already is, designed and manipulated by it's creators. It's scary when you think about it. Very scary. That's insane megalomaniac levels of power. The power to hold people's minds to ransom with their own free will; not against it. The power to change the world as you see fit.
Was that enough of a negative slant for you? Enough doom and gloom? I wasn't sure if I over did it? I can never tell.
I'm not sure how accurate that statistic is to be honest, after all, whilst all statistics claim to be 100% accurate, when you look at how they were collated, they often turn out to be somewhat misleading. Take that 70% for example. I would question it's validity personally. And I have a good inside reason to think that ... because I totally made it up.
Personally, I think porn is harmless if you're an adult that understands what it is. It's always been around in some form. It's got nothing to do with real relationships at all. They gain problems regardless. Things change ... but some things will never change.
Jimmy Saville, Rolf Harris, Catholic priests ... there are things out there that actually ARE bad. REAL monsters. Porn always gets a bad wrap. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram ... online porn is really just another form of quick fix entertainment. You shouldn't take it too seriously, and you should be mindful that it is by its very nature addictive.
Anyway whatever the real percentage, it's no doubt a percentage that has risen sharply over the past 10 years since the advent of smartphone's and faster cheaper internet connections around the globe. Common sense will tell you that. And with 5G and 'the internet of things' imminent, this level of accessibility is certain to soar once again.
But that in itself is not really an issue for concern. As said, porn has always been around. It maybe taboo but it's not intrinsically bad at all.
By far the biggest issue for concern for me that I see with all of this, particularly as a parent, is that given that there is nothing really in place to stop them, it's also said that the age that children are accessing online porn these days is getting younger and younger too. Children that is ... not adults.
And I don't think this is just a case of "it wasn't like that in my day" old man ignorance. I mean, it wasn't like that in my day, but this should be concerning ... shouldn't it?
Or have I just become an old git? I have become an old git, but my point is, I'm sure it should still be concerning ... shouldn't it?
Don't get me wrong, I love the internet, but I do sometimes long for simpler times again for my kids sake. Back to the times when the curiosity of undressing your sister's Barbie's and the innocence of looking up the underwear section in your mum's Grattan catalogue was enough ...
What?! There was no internet ... don't judge me.
YOU CAN LEAVE YOUR HAT ON.
Unreliable statistics aside, I suspect it's probably not too far from the truth.
I know for a fact that kids are accessing these things accidentally far too early these days, as it accidentally happened to my own 8 year old son last month. He came downstairs in a panic saying that he had 'accidentally' logged himself out of his Google account and couldn't sign back in. I suspected immediately.
Now, I know it's pretty hard to 'accidentally' sign out of Google; you have to actively go into the menus in the top right of the browser and seek it out; even harder considering as when I left him to it, he wasn't even on Google, he was playing Fortnite. I knew something wasn't right here.
As I signed him back in, being the only one that knows the password, I asked if he had been searching for rude words like I had warned him not to. He just said no. I knew he was withholding the truth out of fear of what I would do to him so I didn't pursue it. He was white as a sheet. You can't just 'accidentally' sign out of Google: something had happened. So, later that night when he was in bed, and only because he had given me due concern to as a parent, I did something that I try to never ever do ... I looked over his Google history. All was revealed.
My heart sank when I saw what he had seen. I have never felt such a failure as a parent as in that moment. To think I was happy looking at the underwear section of The Grattan Catalogue when I was his age! The stuff he saw ... good god. How times have changed.
I looked back deeper, it was just this one time. Thank god. I know the fuckers not even real, but thank god anyway. I had caught the fire early. I had a chance to nip it in the bud. Holy fuck, this was not meant to happen yet. He's way too young.
Turns out he had been typing in words like 'big boobies' and 'big bum', no doubt chuckling to himself as he typed ... and then got FAR more than he had ever bargained for in the search results. I don't know what was worse, the gigantic thick veiny cock being enthusiastically tapped off the spherical pair of solid erect nippled plastic tits, or the huge fat woman parking her giant dimpled ass on some skinny balding old bloke's face before smudging it right in there to his glee.
What the hell is wrong with people? I mean for fucks sake. The fucked up shit people get up to behind closed doors is fine. He could put his whole perverted little balding head up their between those massive buttocks for all I cared. I couldn't care a fuck. So long as it's mutual, it's their own business, I don't care ... but now they got to go and put it all online for any one to stumble across?! For my 8 year old son to stumble across?! I mean fucking hell. Of all the things. What sort of fucked up shit? New technology took us to the moon and back in '69, now look at what mankind is doing with it 50 years later! That's progress for you apparently.
He hadn't spent a great deal of time in any one place. He had no doubt flicked between various videos, clicking on new links that came up as he went. I didn't know if this was a saving grace or not: whilst it meant he didn't focus too much on what was going on ... it means he went A LONG way across the internet. Bloody hell. I could see from the history that it was a whole 10 minutes before he logged out and came down to see me. And I can tell you, he saw a lot in that 10 minutes. Too much ... I think what finally got him was a pop up window of a naked woman talking to him in first person (really just to the camera) and inviting him to talk to her (and more!) He would have had no idea that it was just a pre-recorded video.
In fact, he would have had no idea about any of it at all. He didn't even know what sex means/is. He must have totally shat himself when the fully grown naked adult woman started talking to him and inviting him inside her. He must of thought it was real. I could see that she was the last thing he saw before he 'accidentally' logged out.
I was in a slight discombobulated daze as I shut down the computer with the knowledge of what he had just seen. It was like I had just been hit over the head with a bat. I wanted to somehow go back in time and stop it from happening. Set the slate clean. Start over and be a better parent this time round. It bothered me for days. I'd fucked up. This was my fault.
The only plus side was I think he was just too young to have really got what was going on. Fortunately, since then, his search history has completely resorted back to songs like Old Town Road, The Git Up, Fortnite glitches and hacks, and Dan TDM. His searches are as clean as a whistle once again.
It's something I'm keeping a close eye on, but he seems to have totally scared himself out of it. I think he must have mentally shat himself. It must have confused the hell out of the poor little sod.
Fortunately, it only happened that one time and I've added more internet safety tools since then too just in case. Like I said: it's my fault. I thought they were already on there, but as we have multiple profiles on the PC, it turns out that I had done his sisters profile but not got round to his yet. I guess I figured I had more time with him being 2 years younger and all.
I can only put it down to the mandatory incompetence that is required to be a parent. It's a core part of the job. You learn from your mistakes. Your many, many, pitiful mistakes. Fuck ... how did this happen?
I was kicking myself. I should have done it all the second I found him staring at Clara in the Dr who annual, before feeling the need to comment to me that she looked weird. In a book packed cover to cover with all manner of peculiar and bizarre looking aliens and creatures, it was Clara that looked weird?
I must admit, after him showing me, I had a good look myself when there was nobody else around. To check the book was suitable of course ...
Anyway, it was good to see he has such exceptional taste in women at such a young age. I almost felt a strange feeling of pride for him.
Jenna Coleman I'm okay with, she's an image of raw natural beauty both worth remembering and a totally understandable instigator of a boys natural curiosity. It's no wonder the Doctor picked her: that kind of shining natural beauty is universal. Just her eyes alone would be enough to send the Doctor's sonic screwdriver into overdrive. Just a glimpse of her hair in motion would enable the Cybermen to feel their human urges and desires once again. And the Dalek's plungers would extend uncontrollably in her direction as her confident nubile little body bounced by. Even Davros would brush his horrible black teeth and start acting like Han Solo around her trying to impress ...
But more importantly, she was fully clothed. And at his age, that matters. Probably to me more than to him, but as a Dad, it matters. Keep looking at Jenna Coleman by all means. Jenna Coleman is good. Jenna Coleman is hit you over the head with a bat, forget what your own name is, wipe away the drool from the edge of your mouth, can't remember if you turned the gas off or not, drop dead gorgeous! ... I totally get the appeal of Jenna Coleman.
But those internet images ... damn. Unfortunately I doubt he'll forget those either. That upset me deep inside. He's just way too young to see anything like that. Way too young. I'm too you too see anything like that. What was that bottom smudging business? Why? ... I'm so sorry I failed him there; I genuinely thought there was more time. I was wrong.
Anyway, I put it to the back of my mind: although it's unfortunate that it happened, it happened, and that can't be undone now. Perhaps he'd just forget it all? He seemed totally unaffected by it all. If anything, I was more disturbed than he was. In the end, I just decided to do what all Dad's do in situations that may call for open honest discussion about something embarrassing that needs addressing ... I buried it. I decided to let myself forget about it and not mention it. Problem solved.
And that was that. A couple of weeks past and it was all forgotten. It was as if it had never happened. Or so I thought ...
Whilst looking at the clothes section with my daughter in ASDA, we realised that my son had disappeared. You can't blame him; clothes shopping is as insanely boring for an 8 year old boy as it is for a 41 year old Dad. Things change ... but some things will never change.
But I wasn't worried, I knew exactly where he'd be ... in the computer game isle.
Sure enough, once we arrived at the games isle, there he was, contently looking at the back of a Nintendo Switch game ... with a gigantic pink bra on his head! One bra cup was on his head like an oversized cap, the other hanging half way down his back like a back pack.
"They're massive Dad!" he exclaimed, "they're bigger than my head!"
Suddenly all the images came flooding back into my mind at once like in a horror movie: the gigantic thick veiny cock being enthusiastically tapped off the spherical pair of solid erect nippled plastic tits; the huge fat woman parking her giant dimpled ass on some skinny balding old bloke's face before smudging it right in there to his glee; the naked woman inviting him inside her ...
The nightmare was all real. And if it was all still in my head, I knew it must still be in is his too. There was no ignoring it: my failure as a parent was complete.
There's a lot of things that kids have today that we couldn't have even dreamed of in the 80's. Much of the stuff they have today is just so much better - gaming for instance. It relegates the stuff I once had to fond emotion unlocking memories only. I'd much rather be playing with what they're playing with now. But despite that, I still think, in many ways, that we were actually luckier with our childhood. After all, there's more to childhood than video games and Tik Tok.
Don't get me started on TikTok. Internet privacy? It's an open window into scantily clad teenage girls bedrooms and these girls don't even care. In fact they love it! They don't just want people to look, but like, and in their thousands, with big heart shaped approval. The app is flooded with teenage girls in their bedrooms. Last one I saw had a pair of curvy good looking teenage girls; one slapping the others buttocks to the beat of some song I'd never heard of. I didn't click the like, but I did enjoy the gentle pert bounciness that ensued if I'm honest. It was a surprisingly pleasing sight I must admit ... but there was also the Dad inside me that began to panic if this was even legal, let alone moral!? Pert bottom slapping bounciness or not, should a middle aged man be seeing the activity inside multiple teenage girls bedrooms? Very probably not! But then that is TikTok for you. I decided I would stick with You Tube for online videos.
By the very nature of TikTok, these images just scroll in front of your eyes before you even realise what it is you are about to see. You used to have to climb up a tree with a pair of binoculars to get those kinds of views - not anymore! ... Can I just state for the record I have NEVER climbed up trees with binoculars to try to spy into teenage girls bedrooms. NEVER. I'm just saying, that if that's what you were after then that's what you would have had to do ...
Swiftly moving on, we were able to stay innocent longer before the internet arrived. And stay happier about our own body images for longer too. There was less to unfairly judge ourselves against. Less to make us feel inadequate or inferior in some way. Although admittedly, I can only speak for males here.
I long since realise now, that females have always been exposed to images of other very attractive naked women in society ever since I can remember. And publicly against their own will. The internet has actually helped change that. With images on the internet, aside from apps like TikTok, at least you get to choose what you look at and when. And it's private. For your eyes only if you like. However else it may be fucking us up, at least the internet has helped to facilitate this shift in society.
I didn't really realise what women had to put up with at the time growing up in the 80's. It's just the way things were. It's only when you stop and question things, think what if the roles were switched, that you realise how odd the unwritten rules in society can be sometimes. I must admit, if they switched gender and had physically attractive men in bulging skimpy speedos everywhere instead, I would find it all a bit off and peculiar to be honest. I would just think to myself what on Earth are those guys doing? Why are they even there? And I guess that's what it all comes down to really.
Only until recently when Page 3 ended in 2014, and grid girls were removed from Formula 1 in 2018, has that started to change. The only reason those girls were there was for a bit of eye candy as their image pleased men. That's it. I genuinely feel sorry for the girls that had good pay cheque's ended for something they loved doing, but I can also see the strong argument from the other side for a fairer more balanced society between men and women.
And while there's always been topless firemen calendars and stuff like that doing the rounds since as long as I can remember too, they weren't wearing bulging thongs (actually that's not true - The Chippendales were) or anywhere near as common place as the Page 3 girls of the time, whose images seemed to be lying around everywhere in normal daily life; in homes, in the workplace, in shops, on tv ... These girls became big celebrities in the UK, earning great money, just because taking their tops off and smiling pleased men.
Although not that any of this is men's fault as many feminists out there seem to imply these days. We live in strange times in 2019. Sometimes it feels like if you're born a white heterosexual male, you are by default the world's biggest arsehole from the moment you are born, responsible for all manner of things you never even knew happened.
But let me tell you, a man could travel across the stars, go to the end of the universe and back, and I guarantee you, he wouldn't find a greater beauty than what is already here in front of him on Earth. A naked female body is a natural wonder of the universe to a heterosexual male. If it wasn't none of us would be here. We'd all be extinct.
So, with that in mind, if a half naked women is put in easy access of your eyes, you look. It's near impossible not to because it's instinctual. It's an evolutionary trait. And I don't just mean those images that are pumped out in the media. Fully clothed; if a women catches your eye, you look. Again, not consciously; it's instinctual. And I'm talking lots of different shapes and sizes. You don't know what you like until your instincts kick in. Despite what media images project to us, there's no such thing as one size fits all. Different strokes for different folks. The female body is beautiful in all it's forms, and it's instincts that decide your preferences. I'm sure it's exactly the same for women. Furthermore, I've seen videos of women at hen party's with strippers over the years ... and some of them don't just look. Oh no ... Blame multi media moguls for manipulating this fact for their own gain sure, but not men in general. Some of us are actually alright you know?
Although it's gone now, Page 3 was massive in the 80's, and 90's. But like I said, the endless quantity of free images and online porn available to anyone today at the tap of a button, makes all that stuff look so tame anyway nowadays. So did young pretty girls of today just lose a good opportunity in life to make a great pay check thanks to feminism? Possibly. Or did Media Moguls just time their punch well, leaving feminists to to take the flack for what they always wanted, realising it was the end of the road in the face of the internet anyway? Who knows. Is its end wrong? Many women would say yes, many women would say no. As such, blokes just feel it's altogether much safer just to stay out of it ...
Because like so many things, the answer depends purely on your circumstantial point of view. What side of the coin you are on. But there's no question, that the feel of the time was that it was the right thing to do. And most importantly, it was a feel created from women's choice, not men's, that pushed for this. As far as I'm aware, apart from the girls that lost their celebrity status and big pay checks (that had already earned great money), nobody misses it at all. As said, with an internet enabled smartphone glued to the palm of virtually every human being on the planet, a person can access near unlimited pictures of topless women any time they like anyway: Page 3 just serves no purpose anymore.
Besides, as one door closes another opens ... the girls that would have taken that route, are now all trying to get rich and famous by getting naked on reality tv instead. Good luck to them; but I won't be watching.
And who watches reality tv more? Women. You see ... you can't just blame men for this; it's idiotic. It's funny how society rolls. Things change ... but some things will never change.
I remember I used to sneak a quick peek at the tits on display on Page 3 when taken to visit granddad as a boy in the 80's and early 90's. He always had a few copies of The Sun lying around, and a page 3 calendar on his wall. As a young boy I was naturally curious.
I must have looked like one of those Looney Toons cartoons when their eyes popped out of their head, as their jaw dropped to the floor causing their tongue to roll out in front of them like a celebrity red carpet; a loud 'Arooooooogha!' horn sounding in the background for good measure, just in case my reaction wasn't obvious enough to anyone that might have somehow missed it. I was never any good at acting, but in my defence, it's hard to hide your emotions when you are young and they are all brand new. I remember my granny once commenting to my embarrassment that I should 'tie a knot in it'. A funny image back then, but these days I'm left thinking ... if only it was long enough!
But Page 3 certainly wasn't any thing you'd consider as porn by today's standards; although some might say standards is the wrong word given the subject matter? But then again, some might also say that that is an ignorant statement in the modern age? Society has no doubt changed in it's views regarding the matter. It's not as taboo as it used to be. Or is it?
30 years ago, a workplace could have a topless girl Page 3 calendar on the wall and no one would batter an eye lid. Today, not only are they all gone, but you just try looking at any kind of porn at work, see how that works out for you ...
Even in 2019, when men are now allowed to be women based on their feelings alone, porn is still massively taboo. But should it still be in 2019?
I'll let you decide: I'm not here to judge anyone. Just airing my thoughts and memories on the matter. But the difference in time still remains stark in contrast: back then, the only accessible form of porn for an 8 year old boy, was just a quick glimpse of a pretty girl with no top on in a newspaper or calendar. The stuff my son accidentally saw at 8 years old ... good god, how times have changed.
ANGLES, INCHES, & INTIMATE CLINCHES.
It's safe to say that the pre internet days were more innocent times. Back then, the only 12 inches a teenage girl would even think about putting in her mouth was a pizza. And if a group of teenage girls were talking about getting hold of a 7 or 10 inch, you could just safely assume that they were talking about their vinyl record collections.
Not any more ... I like the internet, but it really has a lot to answer for. Even as a fully grown man, I had absolutely no idea that penises existed in those kind of sizes until I first came across online porn in my early 20's. And even at that age it was a shock to the system! Even now, I think I'd still much prefer it if I didn't know. Who was the father ... Red Rum?
Online porn these days is a totally different washing machine full of sweaty knickers. Sex? That's just the half of it. It's all about pure physics these days: it always seems to involve mild acrobatics and a degree in trigonometry with some of the angles involved ... and that's just the camera man! Makes me feel like Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon: I'm getting too old for this shit...
Some of those angles?
You get to see angles and viewpoints you would never even get to see even if you were the generously proportioned fellow being paid to be performing the acts yourself.
Never mind a fly on the wall; it's more like a fly dive bombing in between the groove of some sweaty blokes ass crack, before circumventing down between the legs towards the hole; like an X wing fighter entering the Death Star trench. Said sweaty bloke banging away like a Black N Decker drill, woman screaming like she's giving birth to a small elephant, and camera man yelling from the side lines, "Yahoo! You're all clear kid, now let's blow this thing and go home!" ...
It's almost like a sporting event. Each video seems to follow a certain strict format. There's a 10 minute warm up at the start; with various stretching and pulling exercises going on; followed by 15 minutes of vigorous main event high intensity exercise; followed by a 5 minute cool down to finish; again with more of those stretching and pulling exercises from the start going on, only this time with a quick rinse down as well at the end ... only the liquid is a bit more viscous than water.
I wont go into too much detail. Your average bloke wouldn't survive the warm up! If you've ever been on Porn Hub you'll know what I'm talking about. Same format every time (research only of course! ... I NEVER look at porn normally; I don't even know what it is normally: What is it? Is it any good? I wouldn't know ...)
It's safe to say, that what you see in porn videos, is not representative of most people's day to day lives at all. Nor would most people want it to be either I'm sure. Most blokes are just not well enough endowed and far too lazy; especially after a long day at work. And most girls are unsurprisingly not too keen on the idea of being an unlimited shag bag, or having their pelvis bludgeoned for half an hour straight by something the size of a baguette from your local bakery, much preferring instead, to be able to walk again the next day ...
Instinctually compelling as it can be at times in the heat of the moment, at best, porn is only ever a quick fix. An efficient tool for a quick mental and physical release so you can get on with something else more interesting with a clear head. Truth is, the second it's all over, the mental lustful fog clears immediately, and you can't stand the sight of it anymore to be honest. You begin to wonder what you were even thinking in the first place. It becomes instantly undesirable and ridiculous.
Much like many men become to their partners, as they immediately fall asleep after sex. One minute you are in an intimate clinch of raw passion. The next he is fast asleep snoring and drooling all over the pillow. It's normal: we can't help it. This is the real world, not a romance novel. Something knocks us out. I don't know what, but it's something. An invisible bat over the back of the head? Whatever it is, it's real. I'm sure it's biological because it's not intentional.
It amazes me that women can't understand why blokes do this; it's not like we do it on purpose; and yet they expect a man to understand the phrase, "If you love me, you'll let me sleep" ... but it's the quickest route to a good nights sleep for a bloke! Besides, what else are we going to do? Talk? Fuck that ...
The gender wars; they've been going since the dawn of the first man and woman ... and they show no signs of abating I'm afraid. Things change ... but some things will never change.
And now that smartphone's have firmly established their place in the bedroom: one of your partners hands grasping it firmly in front of her heavily dilated eyes, the other stroking it up and down with the soft gentle touch of her sensual feminine fingers ... your knob's got no chance. It's been replaced by a block of black plastic with a slab of Gorilla glass on the front. Lying in bed, backs to each other, people all around the world are going to bed with their social media accounts rather than their partners. It's like having the in-laws and all her annoying friends in the bedroom with you. It's a modern day tragedy. This has to be the biggest turn off for both sexes, since sir Cliff Richard got up and started singing 'We're all going on a Summer Holiday' during a Wimbledon rain delay back in 96.
Women no longer have to worry about their bloke falling asleep after sex, he now falls asleep before sex, and the woman doesn't even notice. She's too busy on all her Social Media accounts.
I read in the news recently, that Millenials are having much fewer kids than all the previous generations before them, or even no kids at all. The birth rate is very low apparently. The figures have left analysts to speculate that it is indicative of how financially screwed they are. I already had 2 kids by the time I bought my first proper smartphone; a Galaxy S2. But after observing first hand the way they've changed the dynamic in the bedroom as they've improved and become more mainstream over the years, I'm seriously beginning to think it's got absolutely nothing to do with finance at all. The birthrate drop ... is to do with smartphone's.
THE TOP SHELF.
Things change, and porn itself has evolved over the years just like everything else.
Believe it or not, it's actually served an important economical function too, by helping to push new technology in as the years have gone by.
In early Cinema, x rated movies bolstered ticket sales. When VHS was new technology, it was largely porn enthusiasts that kept low volume high price sales ticking over until prices came down enough to allow VHS to become mainstream for regular movie fans too.
It did the same with DVD and then the internet afterwards. The only people patient enough to wait for a video to load in the early days of the internet were porn enthusiasts like my brother.
There are people speculating now that it will also be what continues the drive towards future VR too. It's been attempted with gaming several times, some with good success, but VR gaming is still very expensive and has still yet to fully take off. It's not hard to imagine why porn could really catapult VR into the mainstream either; just thinking about the possibilities alone are enough to make you cum in your pants. And that's not meaning to sound crude ... because that would actually be it's ultimate purpose - to stimulate your mind to produce a 'wet dream', specific to you, on call. Now that would be BIG business.
Not that I am thinking about it of course ... I have never watched porn ever. Or thought about it. Ever. I don't even know what it is. What is it? Is it any good? I wouldn't know, I've never watched it ...
Of course porn was about when I was a kid, it's just that you couldn't get your hands on it so easily like kids can now. And unlike today, it wasn't free either. Porn is just so ridiculously accessible and free these days.
Using some wavy lines to go back into the past of the 80's and 90's again, aside form Page 3 which I've already talked about, I remember the inaccessible magazines on the top shelf in newsagents, inside partially blacked out cellophane bags, or wrapped in brown paper, to hide any rude bits on the cover.
This provided a simple, but highly effective, natural physical level of age limited security that, no matter how high tech it thinks it is, the internet simply never can.
Not only could you not reach the top shelf until you were of a certain age, even if you could, the process of having to actually physically buy one in a shop, off of another person, was usually more than enough to stop most people even trying anyway. Even adults.
The very fact that it was public made you realise, that it was a pretty pathetic, seedy, desperate act to pursue. It made you look like a right sad fuck. What sort of seedy pathetic bastard would attempt to buy one of those? ...
Look, the only reason I did it, was because I was tall for my age in secondary school and was dared to give it a go one time for the benefit of my group of friends.
I had no interest in the magazine itself; I just wanted to prove I could do something that they couldn't. Easy. How hard can it be I thought to myself with confidence and pride. No problem ...
I never stopped to consider that the shop owner and other people in the queue could see what I was buying. As I fumbled around for the correct change, sweating, all red faced and hot in my panicked state, I finally managed to piece together enough coins for the damn thing ... only to have the Indian shop owner decline the sale anyway because I had no ID.
At that point, all my mates outside the shop were all pointing at me, clutching their stomachs, bursting with laughter.
Everyone else in the shop queuing behind me, was looking at me shaking their heads in the knowledge of what they assumed I was planning to do with it when I got home ... I didn't even want the magazine! It was a just a stupid dare!
It certainly wasn't the free, easy access, private, quick, online addictive dopamine fix that it is today that's for sure. And not only were there embarrassing physical and social barriers to accessing porn pre internet ... you actually had to pay for it too!
How much? I could spend that money on a Mean Machines computer game magazine instead.
The main difference was, there was actual opportunity cost involved back then: you actually had to weigh up the balance of worth. There isn't anymore. Back then it just wasn't worth it. You actually had something to lose. These days, you've got nothing to lose at all.
Although I didn't find it funny at the time, looking back on it now, the humour of the situation of failing to buy a porn mag made it well worth it in the end. I would have burst as well had it not been me. The magazine that I never got to buy was irrelevant. What were we going to do with that as a group of friends except point and laugh anyway for fucks sake? That's what porn was to us back then. A forbidden fruit that led to a bit of a laugh with mates. How times have changed ...
These days, kids, adults, anyone: nobody has any hurdles to obtaining porn at all anymore. Anyone can view extreme hard core porn when ever they like, no matter how shady the material, without anyone even knowing that they're doing it. And NOTHING is left to the imagination. Some of those angles ...
Truth is, you were better off just sticking to your imagination back then. That was where it was at. Your imagination was already 100% portable, secure, and private, and it was unlimited, and totally free. Ironically, it's what VR can only dream of being today.
It didn't need magazines, devices, or websites for access. Not only could it undress any woman you saw, it would enjoy doing it. And several millennia of evolution had ensured that it was also highly efficient at getting the job done.
Your imagination is an amazing thing: it thrives on the unknown; and when things are left to the imagination, it's actually even better. A good imagination makes you like Clarke Kent with his unique type of telescopic X Ray vision; you know, that type that can see through selective layers of clothing rather than just see a skeleton ... never sure how that worked? But your imagination can definitely do something very similar if you set it free.
Your imagination was way better than any porn magazine could ever be. Not only could it zoom in and lock down on the slightest curve or feature to store in your minds memory, it could transform those features to your minds liking too. You want them to have bigger boobs, no problem. Thighs and calves a bit more shapely, easy. You could even change the colour and design of their imaginary underwear at will. Your imagination was like a character creator screen that you find in many modern computer games of today. And you could create any scenario you liked to plonk them in too.
These mag's were for people addicted to posed fake fantasy images that needed assistance to beat off to. They were for people with no imagination. They just weren't necessary. These days, nothing is left to the imagination it would seem. It's like the evolutionary skill has been handed over to smartphone manufacturers and multimedia creators. Some of those camera angles; people are just not supposed to see those angles ...
These days, online porn is as ubiquitous and as easy to access as Social Media. And although on both accounts, everybody does it(except me of course: I never look at porn ever ...), I'm not sure regularly using either is actually a good thing? Both are very similar beasts when you think about it.
In the modern world, porn and social media are free, always there, and always instantly accessible at the tap of a button. They're both intentionally addictive; they both project a false contrived view of reality; and any kid with a smartphone or tablet can access either just by lying about their age when signing up, it's that easy.
People across the globe are voluntarily handing their power of imagination over to web sites ... even children. No one really knows the consequence this will have for their mental health and future relationships in the long run either?
But sadly, it's the way the world is now. Are we already part Android? Was Google ahead of the curve with it's naming convention? We're already glued to these devices anyway. We are already handing over many of our faculties to devices ... is the future to have interctive AI integrated into our biological bodies to ameliorate and enhance the inefficiencies of being human? It certainly seems to be heading that way. Android indeed ...
It's the old Pandora's Box philosophy ... unfortunately, you can't put the toothpaste back in the tube once it's out. But to be fair, you're not meant to either, you're meant to brush your teeth with it. Who knows where humanity is heading? ...
Trouble I have is, people like my 8 year old son never got to make the choice as to whether Pandora's box was opened or not. She was already inviting him in as she opened it for free in an internet pop up window in his web browser ...
THE HUMAN CONDITION.
I suppose I shouldn't be too worried. Sexual curiosity is perfectly natural in the young. Whether it be be in the 80's: flicking through the Ladies underwear collection of your mums Grattan Catalogue and undressing your sisters Barbie's; or in the present day: looking at pictures of Jenna Coleman in your Doctor Who Annual and searching up naked body parts online; it's not really any different. The spark of curiosity always comes from within. It's natural. And whilst I'm still annoyed about my son stumbling across what he did ... it was him that put the words into Google. No one made him or encouraged him to do it. It was natural curiosity. He had the intent, even if he did get far more than he ever bargained for: it was like he innocently curiously searched for a glass of water, and ended up getting a bucket of warm piss thrown over his head instead. But I would never dream of telling him off for it, because he has done nothing wrong. Poor little sod.
There must be something that can be done about this, he's 8 years old. In 2019, we have AI self driving cars on the horizon ... and apparently the powers that be can't even stop an 8 year old accidentally stumbling across hard core online porn by default? In the 80's and 90's we had social humiliation, a top shelf, a bit of brown paper, and a pay wall by default. In 2019, internet security is still not even a patch on that - we have nothing by default? I think that needs to change. Everything else changes, why not that?
But let's be honest, I'd be concerned when ever his first time was: I've got it out the way I suppose. I'm also fully aware and prepared now: I've thought about it, I've rationalised it, and ... bloody hell I sound old. When did I get old? Fuck ... He'll be fine. I think it messed me up more than him! What was that bottom smudging business? Why? ... And besides, that's not a first time thing a parent really has to worry about too much. That first time thing had better be a long, long, LONG way off ... or I'll fucking kill him.
I'm 41, but I do actually remember what falling in love for the first time in a relationship feels like. We all feel like we are breaking the mould when we fall in love for the first time: we look around at the older generations and we really feel that we have something that they didn't; we have found something special; something new to us; something that will last forever and ever ... but we are really in fact just re-emphasising the fact that there really is a very small well defined mould that we all operate in ... and we are just too fucking stupid when we are young and 'in love' to even see it.
In the beginning of relationships, of course sex matters. It matters a lot. It matters a bit less as you get older, have to go to work everyday to pay the mortgage, and have young kids tearing about all over the fucking place, but it still matters ... just not as much as a good nights sleep and genuine companionship.
But I'm perfectly okay with that. To me, sex is not the most important thing in a relationship at all. To me, 3 minutes a wee ... 30 minutes a night ... of sexual intercourse is not the be all and end all at all. Far from it. I mean it's nice, but it's not everything. Your perspective of what's important changes with time and circumstance. And if it didn't ... you would be nothing but a complete fucking moron.
It's only natural that it matters most when you are young and care free. Not only is it all brand new, biologically, a teenager that has just survived puberty, by their late teens is revving on all cylinders just waiting to slam down the accelerator to see what they can do. And after the brutally confusing metamorphosis they have just suffered for the past few years, it's hard to argue that they don't deserve some kind of reward for enduring nature's will. Biologically they are more primed for sexual intercourse than at any other point in their entire lives. They look great and everything just works on tap and they are still in acute hormonal overdrive. Trouble is, sociologically, they've never earnt a full time wage, or paid a bill, or saved a penny, or even had a single real responsibility in their entire life. They don't even know how to wash their clothes or keep their room tidy for fucks sake ... can anyone else see one massive potential monumental life crippling fuck up of a problem that might happen here? Oh you can? Then I'd strongly wager that you are not a teenager or an early 20 something then ...
Good god I feel old ... and I'm still only middle. Fuck. When did I get old? That's life I guess; it happens to us all. I suppose we should all be grateful for the care free recklessness of youth ... otherwise none of us would even be here. But the reality is, young couples may be strutting around like they're the first human beings ever to have fallen in love: kissing too much in public; holding hands everywhere they go; lying on top of each other length ways on the living room sofa so no one else can sit down; giggling at their own in-jokes and touching each other in a room full of other people ... but no ones breaking any moulds at all here. No one. The mould is the same for all of us, kids. Us adults all see what you are doing, we did it ourselves once, it's we just choose not to comment.
Back in the 90's, adults at least had broadsheet newspapers to hide behind and shuffle when things were getting a bit over the top. It's not like we can do that these days with a smartphone is it! When the time comes, I might have to use the other 90's adult tactic ... turn the tv up really loud to drown them out rather than have to say anything. I figure I got about 8 to 10 years to work it out anyway. I guess I'll just see what happens when I get there. Who knows how the world will have changed by then?
Nope. No ones breaking any moulds I'm afraid. In the beginning, we're all scrabbling around trying our hardest to beautify ourselves to impress a potential mate, whilst actually genuinely believing that it is in fact for 'ourselves', rather than for a potential man or woman that we might meet in the future. Basically, nature makes sure we're trying to get some whether we realise it or not. And it does its best to ensure that at some point, most of us are going to get some. Not all of us, but most. Even Adolf Hitler had a wife and a love child for fucks sake, so if you're unlucky in love, just remember that; there's hope for anyone!
And, in the beginning, we are also all forever aping about in front of potential mates whether we want to or not: losing co-ordination and doing silly things when they are around; getting lost for words, not knowing what to say out of subconscious fear of rejection; touching our hair and being overly expressive without even realising it; laughing at things that we wouldn't normally find funny at all; taking on new interests that we have no interest in at all just to get emotionally closer to them ... We enter into a very real irrational form of chemically induced, extreme agreeableness otherwise known as 'love'... I know, I can't believe how romantic I've become in middle age either; join the queue ladies ...
And if that wasn't enough, now in the modern world, we're also all now scrabbling around secretly looking at online porn at the same time too (not me; I never look at porn; don't even know what it is; is it any good? I wouldn't know ...), trying to explore our own instincts in a confused manner, as society perpetually makes us feel guilty for even having them in the first place. But they are there, they've always been there, and they will never go away. Exploring them is not wrong at all. It never has been and it never will be. It's always been people pretending that these instincts are un natural or are evil that are the problem. Just don't walk round in public saying that for your own good though. Those type of people don't like that. Just look what they did to Jesus ...
For all mankind's amazing technological achievements, biologically, a human being is still little more than a balding ape that's learnt how to dress itself and paint it's face. As much as we try and distance ourselves from it all in our man made day to day society; with money, clothes, jobs, material goods, and by fabricating nonsensical religions ... to eat, shit and fuck, are still our primary instincts. No matter what we do, we just can't escape that reality. We cannot change that truth about us all. Our animal biology still totally owns us ... and that's not necessarily a bad thing.
The thing is, 'love' in this form, as insane and idiotic as it makes us, is the only thing that a human being can feel that can literally make everything and anything else in this cruel world feel better. It's truly a wonder of human existence that every human being should have the fortune to experience at least once. People say that magic isn't real, it's all a trick. But love is quite magical, and it's is very real, and it is not a trick. It's the best thing a human being can ever feel. That's why people often take it when they can. Like I said, there is a mould. I'm not knocking love here, not at all, it's no wonder we are all fools for it. But the trouble is, we live in a relentless machine, otherwise known as society ... and does this magical feeling of love even last?
When we are young we look around at our parents and adults everywhere and we always believe we won't become like that. It will never happen to us. We won't let it. And then somehow, a couple of decades later, we realise that it has ...
There can be no denying it. All relationships go through observable, repeatable, and predictable stages. Every single one of them. And they are :- 1. Fucking 2. Fighting 3. Finding a way to balance 1 and 2 into real life 4. Commitment and wondering what the fuck ever happened to 1?
Human relationships are organic, not digital. So to see them as a 1 or 0, as success or failure, is illogical. Being organic, they take root, bloom, wither, and then die; just like a flower. It's no accident that a flower is the perfect symbol of romance: as with all things in nature, relationships are meant to end - even if it's by death. Whether in the end, or much sooner ... they all end somehow. All we can do is enjoy trying to make them last while we can. It's natures way. Although perhaps 'enjoy' is the wrong word? ...
Whilst my Granddad still clearly liked his Page 3 calendar that brightened up his wall, he had actually slept in a separate room to my Granny for as long as I had ever known them. I never thought anything of this at the time. It was just the way things were. I've actually learnt from other older people I've met in my life since, that that is actually not altogether uncommon after a certain age.
Both having grown up on farms in rural Ireland, the world they had found themselves in the 80's and 90's when I was a kid; Harlsedon England, the murder capital of the UK; could not have been further removed from the surroundings they were in when they first met. How they ended up their, I have no clue, but life had taken them from regularly having chickens and goats at the end of the path, to regularly having drug's raids and gang busts at the end of the road instead. As immigrants to the UK, I guess they were sold a false promise. They wouldn't have been the first ... or the last. They had no doubt seen and been through lots of changes in their time together. It didn't seem to phase them ... they were too pre occupied with getting on each others feckin' nerves.
I never knew much about their early life, other than they both used to play golf together in Ireland and won lots of trophies each. My Granddad even offered to teach me some golf once to which my Granny became immediately jealous and angry with him. To his shock she hit him over the head with a tea towel, "Cecil! Don't be ridiculous Cecil", she said, "he's a young lad, he doesn't want to be seen hanging around with an old eejit such as yourself." And that was the end of that.
All I knew was what I observed growing up: two old people constantly bickering with each other. The were like The Twits by Roald Dahl. They really didn't seem to get on all that well at times, but in a strange way, I think that's actually what kept the bond between them so strong? It's hard to explain, if they ever didn't get on ... it was in a way that they did? I know it shouldn’t make any sense but it did at the time.
I guess the easiest way to understand their relationship is by likening them to C3PO and R2D2 from Star Wars. My Granny was like C3PO and my granddad R2D2. It was a very similar dynamic. One the neurotic fast talker, the other the cool collected calm one. Always bickering, but as much as they pissed each other off, they were always still there for each other in the end. Like I said, it's a hard dynamic to make someone else feel, especially in the current day and age, but it was real, and of the sort you only ever see in old married couples that have been in the commitment stage for decades already. They'd clearly both accepted that their fates lied together a long time ago. In a strange way, they were good together.
As I remember them, granddad was always in his chair in the living room watching tele, and granny was always in the kitchen talking to anyone that would listen. Granddad would be quietly singing songs from old crooners like Frank Sinatra to himself, as he rubbed back the few strands of hair he had left on his bald head, watching re runs of stuff he had no doubt already seen a dozen times before. Sometimes he'd fall asleep in front of the tele, but when he awoke, he could still fill me in on everything that had happened.
And granny, well she would just talk. You didn't even have to listen. You could totally switch off and she wouldn't care, or even notice ... she just liked talking. About everything and anything. I actually quite liked zoning out to her 'however and anyway' stories about so and so down the street and the price of butter at the local shop. She often had comics waiting for us: Look In; The Beano; if we were really lucky, The Transformers. I'd often just read one of those while she talked. Like I said, she really didn't care. It was just nice sharing the same space together for a while: kind of like you do with a pet.
Their characters could have been perfectly slotted into the sit com Mrs Brown's Boys just as they were to be honest. My granny even dressed just like Mrs Brown.
I have a lot of fond memories of them and their relationship together as I grew up. Skipping forwards in time a decade and a bit, most notably I remember a time in my early 20's, where I had gone to visit them and was sat in their kitchen for breakfast.
They had relocated to Over in Cambridge by this point where my Uncle and cousins lived. A much more suitable place for them; tainted by the fact that my Granny was ill. She had cancer. There was only a few months left at this point.
It was early in the morning and we were sat at the table having breakfast. Just me, Granny and Granddad.
Granddad had clumsily dripped tea down his freshly pressed shirt that Granny had apparently slaved over all day yesterday.
I'm pretty certain granddad was never bothered whether his shirt was ironed or not; all he was going to do was sit in front of the tv all day. At this current moment, he seemed to be just trying to steady his old hands so that he didn't spill any more tea down himself ...
I carried on eating my toast.
'Cecil!' she exclaimed to start the rant.
He always did things like this on purpose just to annoy her apparently. Other examples started rolling off the tip of her tongue like water off a ducks back.
She was well practiced at this routine and she was pissed. Everything that had ever gone wrong in the world was his fault at this moment in time; and she was damn well going to let him know about it too. It would have been awkward if I wasn't so used to it: this was normal.
I looked at Granddad. His eyes glanced over at mine as Granny's continuous flurry of words turned into a muted background muffle in our heads. In times gone by, he would have accompanied this glance with a cheeky knowing grin and a glint in his eye. Not this time.
This time there was no grin, and there was a hint of knowing sadness in his eyes.
Granddad reached out his hand to hers. She was so mad, so mid rant, that she didn't even notice until her hand was in his. And then I witnessed something that I never thought I would ever see. My Granny stopped talking. All of a sudden, she became totally still and silent. I didn't think it possible.
The only movement that came, was from the single tear that emerged from the corner of her eye, that proceeded to slowly make its way down the channels made by the wrinkles on her time wearied old cheek.
Granddad was the one talking now. His calm comforting brogue softening the harsh brutality of reality that was about to take them away from each other for the first time since their childhood.
All the ups and downs they'd been through together, all the hardships they'd survived together; none of it could prepare them for what time was about to deal them now.
Whether the one that goes, or the one that's left behind: it's hard to know who will endure the greater pain? Either way, time doesn’t care.
'Do you remember the time, Nelly?' he'd start in soft Irish brogue as he started unlocking memories in both their minds ...
Sat before me were two old, time wearied bodies: one riddled with cancer, both riddled with fear of the future. But the words that were coming from my granddads mouth were gloriously transforming them into a young couple in love once again, along with all the ups and downs that love brings with it, right before my very eyes.
But what made the words so special was that they were not just stories he was telling. He wasn't suckering you into a funny punch line with Irish charm and a poignant tale as he so often did.
These words were shared memories he was recalling. The moments that mattered most. Shared memories from a lifetime of two people spent together. A lifetime of the little things as well as the big things. A lifetime of ups and downs. A lifetime of joy's and of hardships. A lifetime of priceless information bound by the two of them. A lifetime that no longer existed in the modern world they found themselves surrounded by now. A world that had happily moved on without them. A world that time had forgot. But they hadn't forgotten. To them they were still everything, and as real as the day they had happened.
He talked of the fun they got up to in Ireland when they were young: the things they shouldn't have done, but did anyway. He talked of the adventures they had had that led them to England, and of my mum and my uncle and the things they did growing up. I remember thinking how no one else could have ever done those stories justice: because to any one else, they would have been just stories. Shared memories are so much more than just stories. Forged under the heat of a fourth dimension, they actually become part of time itself.
If I'd had a hanky, I'd have loudly blown my nose into it, and sobbed into it like a baby. But I didn't, all I could do was stop eating my toast and enjoy the fortune I had of effectively being a fly on the wall in this moment: enjoy getting to observe this magnificent display of humanity unfolding before me. As a young man in my 20's, I was witnessing what happens behind closed doors at the end of the line: the end of a lifetime of shared memories together. Holding hands and sharing memories were all that mattered. Very few people get to see that. I was lucky.
Granddad died very shortly after my granny passed away. Half of him had already died, and the remaining half just slipped away soon afterwards with little objection. He was lost without her. He couldn't even make a slice of toast by himself. More over, he didn't even want to. He'd lost the will to live without her.
And as a young man, it started me thinking, that's all we really do in relationships isn’t it? We essentially place all our trust in sharing experiences with someone else. We make that commitment, we trust in it, we see it through, and we generate value in our lives by doing so; great value. Because there genuinely is great value in it. The good and the bad. The ups and the downs. It's all good in the end. And in the end, it's all that really matters.
It's not about a constant stream of happiness, or continuous sexual gratification. There is no such thing as a constant stream of happiness, or continuous sexual gratification. They are illusions. But it takes two of you to realise that. And that's the real lottery these days. That mutual realisation has become very rare: relationships appear to be becoming more and more insular in the modern age; more self centred around personal desires or goals.
In fact of all the memories mentioned, there was no mention of sex at all(thankfully!). Those things almost seem ignorantly shallow and shamelessly selfish and fleeting by comparison to actually being there for someone, and to someone actually being there for you. In the end, that is everything.
Through it all, through all of life's ups and downs, through all of time's changes, we weave into each other's memories via shared experiences, and we generate actual value in our lives by doing so. We find a meaning in life from that, even if that meaning only belongs to 2 people and no one else. To those 2 people it is everything. And, however long that bond survives, while it is there, that's what relationships are really all about. Not sex. Sex will always calm down over time in a relationship. The memories will only ever grow.
Without them even realising it, it was their last kind gift to me. I'll never forget that moment. It's just a shame I never got to thank them for it. Sat at that kitchen table observing and listening to them, I had no right to be there, and I'm sure that they had even forgotten that I was. This moment was theirs. It belonged to them ... and to think, they didn’t even pause to take a selfie and post it on Facebook.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, we are all highly predictable animals. Mammals with natural sexual urges and desires that materialise from a young age, to ultimately result in the conception of children to keep the human race going. If they didn't, none of us would be here. And yet for some reason, this common animal instinct inside us all has always been a taboo subject? Exploring those feelings has always had some kind of negative slant attached to it by society at large. It's almost like we are ashamed to admit that we are animals?
Truth is, it doesn't matter what decade or generation you are from, those desires will manifest themselves in all kinds of bizarre and changing ways throughout your lifetime, particularly in the new digital age, and there is nothing wrong with that at all in my opinion, despite what some might say. But, that said, this powerful driving force inside us all is not everything. Not at all. As you get older, you realise that there are things of much greater value between two human beings.
Finding someone that will always be there for you, as you will be for them; someone that you can trust in, and that can trust in you back; someone that you can share experiences with over time, share the ups and the downs in life with; someone to sit next to you on the roller coaster and hold your hand; a special person that you can create shared memories with together ... It's these things that matter most. Not sex.
And when it comes to the rapidly changing online digital age, I guess it's true what they say: some things change, but some things will never change. And I can see this inside my own lifetime: technology and society has changed much in my 40 odd years, but it's important to remember, that we still remain the exact same human animal inside, irrespective of whatever new technology has our behaviours currently under it's influence. The human animal inside each and every one of us hasn't changed at all in that time. And it will continue to stay this way; unless we willinglingly walk into intergration with AI and become full on Androids, not with just with Android and other such devices in our hands, but in our heads, calling all the shots. But the way things are going, I have little hope that any other future is avoidable.
I know it's insanely popular to document eveything these days, but you really don't have to film everything you know ... or upload it online. Some things really are best just left between two people.
Particularly if you happen to be a huge fat woman that enjoys smudging some skinny balding old bloke's face up your backside for my 8 year old son to accidentally stumble across online!!