This post isn’t illustrated, because I’m just that classy.
Let me preface this by saying I’m not a fan of porn. And I definitely don’t feel porn should be on the TV for every little kid to watch and learn. Yet, there’s something about cable TV sex that’s very healthy.
If you don’t agree, just try to remember, if you’re old enough, back to when there was no sex on cable TV. You’d go to the video store on the corner of 10th Street, and there would be a back room with some creepy guy hovering around, perfectly visible from where you were renting pretty-pony videos with your kids. He would be kind of catching your eye every so often, and your kids would be asking to go in that room, and you’d be saying, oh, uh, no. So the physical setup today is much more private.
Then also, if not for cable TV sex, where would you get a candid, up front portrayal, in slow mo if you liked, of the pros and cons of plastic surgery? The gal with the two plastic hams jiggling off her sternum would not be there for your consideration, unless you paid her in advance and by the hour.
Another thing is, if it weren’t for sex on cable TV, would you be able to appreciate sex as a sport? Because that’s what it is—an athletic performance, or something like National Geographic, with competing walruses, not anything to do with intimacy or even with real bodies—and that’s what is called for, if you’re flipping channels.
Not that I watch TV, even this or American Idol. But if I did, I certainly wouldn’t diss cable TV sex, or the sports events, sit coms and competitions it reminds me of. And neither should you.