9:46 PM. Notice thread titled, "What I Learned Wearing My Wife's Tampons For A Week" (Salo". You freeze. Sweat trickles down your forehead as you stare numbly at the title.
"Blank OP?" you wonder. Does it matter? You are no stranger to the depravity of the modern world. A steady diet of internet media, from the incessant "SO MUCH THIS!" links to upworthy from Facebook friends you hardly know, to the roaring stream of tweets hashtagged with "yesallwomen," to the guttural ravings of supposed experts on cable "news."
The cultural output of a nation in decline flashing before your eyes like stars bursting briefly before fading into darkness. War in Syria. Latte salute. Donald Sterling. You ok sis? Michael Brown. DOMA. leaked nudes. Crimea and Ukraine. Campus rape. Adam Lanza. Redskins. Bridgegate. Eliot Rodgers. Ebola. Columbia mattress girl. Trayvon.
All the detritus of a nation crumbling and falling like leaves into a forest floor, to be devoured and consumed by scampering nothings in the night. You are a scampering nothing. You feast on trash. You can't seem to help it.
But sometimes even the most sumptuous of clickbait morsels make you pause. What stops you? You don't know. But every now and again, the low hum of content, content, content is pierced by a sudden silence and you wake up. The silence isn't really silence: it's clarity. You look around you, lift your eyes upwards, see the molding chunks some distant power deigns to feed you and feel outrage. You shake because you are a human being, and the indignity of life as an anonymous bit of stuff floating in an ocean of waste is unbearable to a being that knows it should be free.
But eventually, always, you slink back into your place, you pretend it never happened, you are comfortable.
Date: May 12th, 2022 6:05 PM Author: french galvanic base pozpig
Now that we are in 2022, this poast no longer is funny, as the OP and much worse are real links with regularity.
A guy putting tampons in his ass is nothing compared to “Drag Queen story hour” or CRT being taught in schools or the US officially recognizing the “X” gender on official government documents
Ten years later. You wake up in a cold sweat. Phone buzzes -- 35 notifications. Outlook, sms, instagram, all vying for your attention. Gray sunlight casting your shadow on vinyl wood flooring through the sickly branches of the half-grown aspen tree the builder suggested you buy. You're not sure why you did.
Buzz buzz, time to get up. Turn to your wife, her face already illuminated by the light of her iphone. That's how you'll see her face someday, when you're dying. Stumble to the shower. NYT push alert: "Experts say Trump's rhetoric poses a danger to rule of law." "Biden promises $8 billion in aid to Israel." "Flooding in West Virginia; fires in LA." Rise and shine, citizen -- it's 2024. Almost a quarter through the American Century.
Email check: HR wants to know when you'd like to schedule your DEI training. Is 3pm on Friday okay? The trainers are asking for two hours, but it might go a bit late. They've had such great participation from other team members, these hard conversations are so important. We all have to do the work.
Shower, coffee, car. You can't believe what you paid for the thing, but it works. Can't take the train, not after what happened to Alan last year. Stitches all up and down his face, kids can barely look at him, suspect still at large, and just for an iphone. But it's okay, the news said crime's actually down. Things are getting better. Don't you know this is the time for a politics of joy?
Content is content. World is slipping past. But dawnlight still shines through half-grown aspen trees, and somewhere there's still a fading mural of Trayvon Martin, and somewhere in a Chinese warehouse there's a box of the last Redskins sweaters they ever made, and somewhere the body of Eliot Rodgers is sloughing off its flesh, still virgin. Yes, there are new things, just like there were old things. Yes, some things change.
But you know some don't. Because it is ten years later. You click. And the OP is blank.
Date: September 29th, 2015 1:00 PM Author: opaque infuriating sex offender
close enough
"I will of course never know the feeling of menstruation or have to deal with it personally, but being so involved with it, I really couldn’t “claim to be a know-it-all” until I actually could say whether a product worked or not. Whenever I got the chance, I would experiment with different items to see which one held up the best. Some girl-friends would come to me asking whether I would recommend a particular product. Sometimes my advice would be good, sometimes, bad – haha – after all, I lack the vagina and period to really give them an accurate answer :P"