peripathetic

Okay. So. The whole department of transport / Byers thing was somewhat overblown by me, in that they were marginally less shitty than at first appeared. Still doesn't stop me from holding them in high contempt though. So just in case anyone's in the slightest bit doubtful, I want to say this. Fuck Byers. Right in the ear.

;o)

Paul is being sort of endearingly nasty and calling me a porn slave. It's just not true. Now, porn. There's an interesting subject. It changes so much through the centuries. I was looking for ages to see whether there were any representative photos of nineteenth-century stuff out there on the web but I kept on getting sites like this and this and this instead.

If you clicked any of the above links, shame on you. SHAME, I say. You know who you are. You know very well that you came here for what is basically a cerebral read, and ended up being lured away by nothing more than the promise of seeing naked flesh. You shallow person.

19th-century porn is laughable now, but then, it was hot stuff, kept by men in private collections, and surprise of surprises, they even had porn moves then. Well. Quite funny porn moves by our standards no doubt. Sort of, 'oh, bare that ankle a bit more and you'll make me cream' type of stuff. These movies were called 'smoking concert films', delightful euphemism. Men used to get together and show these in little wank parties when their wives were out in someone else's parlour and saying 'eau, your cakes are delightful'. And the guilt. You could be publicly disgraced then if it was found you liked porn. Can you believe it? Jobs lost, houses lost, lives decimated, and all because of hypocrisy. It's bizarre that the Victorians (in this country) used porn much more extensively than most people would today, but they were also far, far more repressed about it.

Alex should be pleased I've finally written something here, after a 6-day break, even if it is just a brief foray into sexuality and out again.