Apple Downloads – FileDefense: “FileDefense automatically alerts you when any program is accessing files and prompts you to accept or deny that access.”

Hey, not me, baby. I trust my self not to click on pop ups, especially the ones offering to clean my registry, and not to visit germy sites.

I love the way the porn industry used to keep it, um, under wraps on the front page. Now you got girls in one of my ever favorite poses, fresh white semen dripping down their chin. Nice for the kids. Real nice.

Who all is making money off the ever-growing number of switchers, who got a few years to go before they get what Unix does. Which is more than Redmond can seem to ever grasp. Steve Jobs is not the only person to ever think a thing through and to decide upon excellence. Anything less is, frankly, boring—and the Borg People all work in Washington, where I envision tears of boredom sliding down my face, were it my face.

But really. How likely is that.

So then I emailed,

God damn it, no sooner do I like you again than you turn around and do something sooo … Have you not obtained a clue? By now? There are many of us—women—who don’t find that sort of thing funny … just fuckin’ lame. It’s entertainment for guys—old guys—and truly obnoxious to me.

Why? Because it is, and yes I get to say so! And I’ll tell you another thing, any hip chickies who claim to like it or take part in it are co-opted waaay beyond what they can possibly know.

You like women-as-objects? You approve? Believe me, we’re still working very hard to just be Other People.

So someone I sorta like posts a piece of sexist crap (and thinks he’s just the cleverest thing, I know you do) but for me, coming across the page, it’s a slap, a surprise, shoved right in my face.

Oh and thank you for contributing to the general cheapening of the web. If my daughter were young, I’d love her to come across your site. Not.

Dude, we are not all dudes. 

And even dudes, some of the younger ones, care.

I think I’ll blog this email, as is.

Just a spit in the wind against the massive business of internet pornography. But I do not care. I don’t care how big, how hopeless … 

Who are you, if you do not say what is wrong?

Entertainment for men = Human Rights violation for women.

Only one point of view can possibly prevail.

“ Explicitness is almost always, in the end, pornography … ”

… writes Theodore Dalrymple, in his wonderfully intelligent review of The Surrender: An Erotic Memoir. As is the case in nearly all interesting reviews, the book at hand provides a springboard for the reviewer’s own thinking. Not that Dalrymple introduces much that is new to this reader, not at her ripe old age, which—sigh—in thinking years, must be at least 180. But there is that semi-(quasi?) erotic delight in finding the world, the ideas of the world, remade anew by the clarity that is genius and the special twist of thinking that lifts idea to art.

Finding life anew, that seems to be the main thing. Only the methodology changes, and with it, at last, much more realistic chances of success. When one leaves behind the considerable allure of Hopeless Love. Not but what it’s wrenching, tell the truth. But the accoutrements with which one then begins to furnish a life, those fine little fires twice warm the self. Rather like cutting your own wood.

Take this line from Dalrymple. Take it and clasp it to the area of your heart, if you would protect against the great loss, the democratic diminishment of experience.

” … there should always be things that cannot be said in polite company. This is not prudery: it is prudence, for only thus can the most valuable of human experiences be preserved.”