| Wednesday, August 14, 2002 |
 | My desperate need for downtime over the last couple of days has led, among other things, to rediscover the absolute absence of joy of televison, the drug of the nation, feeding ignorance and causing radiation ect ect chis chis. After a surprisingly promising Monday, in which Six Feet Under was followed by Sex: The Annabel Chong Story, which I lasted about twenty minutes on before being overwhelmed by the realisation that American universities really will accept anyone who'll pay them, a fact far more offensive than la Chong's backpipe bonanza, yesterday offered a cruel reminder that, despite lovely lovely David and his new-found slutdom, despite even Ben's heroic excavation of the A-Team Concordance TV is basically evil and shit.
The Newsnight article on Ayn Rand devotees in the Conservative party was kind of cute (followers of a right-wing, free-market evangelist and nutter finding a home among the Tories? Not exactly ravens leaving the tower of London, it must be said), especially as I was watching it with my Ayn Randy flatmate. But then...the horror, the horror.
Channel 5. Inevitably. A programdevoted to attendants of a conference for amputee women and the men who desire them. Sweet shit.
Please, don't misunderstand me. I am not for a moment suggesting that amputees should not enjoy life, love and all the bounties that the world has to offer. Not a whit.
However, this was the account of an occasion designed for stump fetishists to turn up and try to shag amputees. And the wry observation by one of them that, nice as it is to be desired and among people who shared their experience of life, "these guys" did frequently seem to look upon the women as "a life support system for a stump" seemed horribly, horribly true.
This asssertion certainly sat slightly uncomfortably with one of the potential stump-grinder's claim that "we're just normal guys". As indeed did statements to the effect that, although he was not sexually attracted to men, he was for a while sexually attracted by male amputees, because they reminded him of female amputees, and that at times one of these normal guys had regularly entertained sexual fantasies about hacking off women's limbs, while another used to go to disabled sports events and hide in the shadows. I know Paul McCartney's been taken, but there has to be another option...
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, or the motel or wherever, a particularly unprepossessing beardy lardbucket (who seemed very proud of having been the one who succeeded in breaking open the festive amputee pinata despite the advantage of having legs) explained, punctuating with the most horribly incongruous girlish giggle in history (including Hitler's), that he didn't think it was fair to marry and have children when he would be likely to leave his wife and shack up with an amputee instead. But he does want children. And he really does want to shove his cock up someone for home love means never having to hear the words "spread 'em". So, since a woman of his age would not be a very good bet for childbearing, he is looking for an amputee woman 10 to 20 years his junior. He didn't seem to have got much past "two ovaries, three limbs" on his like list.
Well, good luck there, Spankie. Don't let the fact that even the ones who can't run can still end their lives rather than submit to your advances get you down.
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