50 Shades of Monkey

I don’t think I live under a rock. A life of seclusion isn’t exactly my existence… shit… I read BBC World News at least twice a day, CNN and FoxNews get equal air time on my television daily in my office. I read two newspapers cover to cover every day… blog reading has become a sport for me… and they aren’t esoteric bullshit like this one. I am an informed person. I feel pretty comfortable discussing any topic that might pop up at a cocktail party… even willing to discuss what the appropriate length of a cocktail dress (right above the knee). Hell, I even knew that it was media-hyped crap attempting to sell issues when Time decided to show some perky boobs and a creepy breast-suckling kid about a week ago. I go to iTunes about once a month and go through the best-selling songs and albums to see what is trending and parading as popular music… some of that shit ain’t half bad. However… some “popular” things have happened without my knowledge.

50 Shades of Grey didn’t pop up on my radar until a few weeks ago when a female friend asked my opinion of it… I guess I sold myself as a well-read person. I am completely confident that my learning of 50SG and now commenting on it is about 3 or 4 months too late. No I haven’t read it, no I am not going to read it, and yes I am going to make some sort of mental judgement about your reading it. I like my porn more visual… it used to be magazines and VHS tapes… today it is Internet, Internet, and a more Internet. At an early age I found the written word to be deficit in producing the right type of mental stimulus that is conducive to my sexual arousal. My mom’s “sex and suffering” books really sucked at turning a 14 year-old boy on. If I sit back and let myself explore my sexual urges through strictly mental imaginations, I end up (after about 20 minutes) with a freaky-ass fantasy that includes superheros, unicorns, and jester cap-wearing midgets… needless to say it stops being a sexual fantasy and becomes a script for another horrible Adam Sandler movie. Let my mind wander is a recipe for disaster.

Ladies quit reading this crap and start acting it out… oh and quit reliving your teenage years by not only devouring Twilight… quit reading the fan fiction based on this idea (50SG). Your significant other (especially if it is a man) will be willing to break a hip, suffer toe cramps, and sweat rivers of blood and sweat to act out any sort of fantasy you can think of and vocalize. You will not disgust him, you will not scare him, you will not squash any sort of desire your sigo has… want to be tied down and be teased… or beaten… give the sigo a chance. Soooo… the best I can tell there is not a single female friend of mine (who has read the book) who finds 50SG interesting or mildly erotic (the common response has been “eh” coupled with a frown)… so why in the Hell do y’all keep buying this crap and discussing it. Two possible things are going on here: 1 – y’all really do like this crap and afraid to admit that y’all dig pop literature; or 2 – I need less refined female friends. Either way, let’s move on and quit falling for the hype.

Now this whole 50SG sex thing reminds me of the whole idea of sex and the rich… supposedly the older dude (his name is Grey I think… fucking original) is rich so he can whisk his “victim” by train, car, copter, and speedboat(?) to some bondage palace and work her wily nily. Okay… rich people, especially famous rich people, probably suck in bed. It would be all about them… you would be sweating your ass off… got to impress the rich and famous… and your lover would be going through some weird mental self-stimulation… they wouldn’t be making love to you, they would be making love to themselves as they picture (and watch in the bedroom mirror) themselves making love. 50SG sounds like some self-indulgent crap that was written by a limited vocabulary author… and it took me months to realize it was out there and being sold.

In the 1980s, everything considered trendy, important, or pop culture was easily attainable through watching a bit of television, skimming a newspaper, and listening to people talk… this is how “Just a Swangin” got popular… if it was good enough for us (and John Anderson) then, you would think it would be good enough for us now. You didn’t have to listen to Michael Jackson, or even like him… but you couldn’t not know Michael Jackson. I have a friend who doesn’t know who Nicki Minaj is… WTF… how does one not know about those hips, ass, and boobs???? Today we are overloaded with information… not just news but music, books, trending articles on how to fix the broken, and break the habits… you can hide yourself within a certain area of tastes and never realize what is going on anywhere else. You can digitally dig until you are completely unaware of anything else.

Today I learned that Lee Greenwood has a book out that ponders the question if God still blesses the USA. Now, Mr. Greenwood you have a pretty big hit with your musical brain worm entitled “God Bless the USA”… that song will never die. I also know that you didn’t dodge the draft during the Vietnam War because you were given a legitimate deferment… the Internet (Snopes.com specifically) told me so. But in the category of overload of information and crap I don’t need in my brain… is your pondering a question that has no factual foundation whatsoever… when has God or any other spirit of deity powers ever blessed anything in such a manner that we would wonder where those blessings have gone today…

Okay… I am getting old… but I do not live under a rock.


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