Monday, April 07, 2014

Louis and His Porn Compassion


An earlier version of this story appeared in MARY in Spring 2011.








The world is squishy, increasingly so.  The surface has gotten so thin it’s easy to stick a foot through, to suddenly be up to your knees in it, to crash through in a flash and be gone so fast no one notices until much later when someone finally asks, “Hey, has anyone seen Stan?"  Or: "Where has Louis gone?”

I’m no science expert, but basically, the way I understand it, how it works is this. Excess CO2 in the atmosphere causes a rise in temperature which, combined with elevated levels of fecal matter in the water, creates an out-of-control bloom of information, which, essential as it may be as a micronutrient, is toxic in heavy doses and results in paralysis, as well as a treacherous weakening of surfaces, to such an extent that pretty soon polar bears are crashing through, and people too, and even when they turn up again, they’re not the same as they were before, for example Louis --

Lou! How you been?

"I got stuck," Louis says.  And looks downright embarrassed as he admits that he got himself one of those on-line porno memberships, which, for just 19.95 a month and gives you access to 675,000 porn sites, which contain upwards of 12 million photos -- more cocks and asses than you could see in a lifetime, even if you were a showerhead at the Y.  Add in the webcams, the chatrooms, and the reality sites and -- well, you’ve got yourself a career.

“Damn Lou, it's been a long time since I seen you.  When did you sign on?”

“1997,” Louis says.

“Lou!  You gotta be careful, Louis.  Nothing like a good wank to make a man lose track of time.  How’d you finally kick the habit?”

“My credit card expired.”

The world, as I said, is getting squishy.  Reality’s not what it used to be, not for polar bears, and not for anyone with a credit card.  People are disappearing right and left, but no one is alarmed because even after they disappear you can still see them – like that girl in the corner of the train with her headphones on.  Here she is and here she isn’t.

Often the people themselves do not know that they have disappeared.  All they know is that they've got a brand new phone and it can do everything.

Louis isn't such a bad guy really .  He’ll be less disconcerting when he’s been out in the sun awhile and looks less like a dwarf albino cave fish.  He still has basic human understanding, even compassion  -- except now it applies only to porn stars.

What’s that you’re saying, Lou?

“Whatever happened to Anthony Gallo?  Ever think about him?  I think about him sometimes.  The same way I think about ex-lovers, like I’d better be ready to feed them and put them up, to help them find work, and for them to still love me, or not.

"I feel that way about Tony Gallo too, even though he was a hairy big lug Italian porn star, with an uncut cock he could have carted around in a wheelbarrow, and I was just a lonely boy with a magazine.  He had a long career for a porn star – a decade at least.  Then he disappeared.  But I still have feelings for him.  I wonder what he’s doing now.  Hey, Tony Gallo – you OK?

“Now of course there are new porn stars to love, spunk on, and worry over.  An ever-increasing cascade of porn stars, like rivulets pouring from a melting glacier.  Because, the way I figure it, 47% of Brazil is now a porn star.  And 71% of the Czech Republic.  Which fills one with indignation.  And makes one wish to move immediately to one of those great nations.

“For example, I am extremely worried about Cooker at ExtraBigDicks.com.  You must have seen at
least the preview clips.  He’s the one who shoots a load in the frypan.  He’s a big lanky chipper boy, not necessarily a genius, but definitely good-natured in an aw-shucks sort of way.  I had a girl call me freak show one time!  And I was like, Wow. 

“In the recent clips however, the color’s been drained from him.  He looks like he’s been stored underwater.  What happened, Cooker?  I should have known to worry more when he talked about comparing cock sizes at the Thanksgiving table with his father and his brother.

“Then of course there are the Visconti triplets.  Now we are in treacherous moral territory requiring professional ethicists.  The Visconti triplets are so handsome, so hairless, and so identical that they appear to have been manufactured: the first manmade men.  But of course they are real, not manufactured, so -- is even just jacking off to the Visconti triplets a profoundly immoral act?  Are we all going to hell for concocting fantasies involving camping and the Visconti triplets?

“Certainly this cannot be good for them – about as good as foie gras for geese.  Because it can’t be A plus super good for one’s psyche to have a career which requires fucking, and getting fucked by, your brother at the same time.  Are fantasies of the Visconti triplets sending a whole army of masturbators to Hell?  What’s going to become of these triplets?  Do they need someone to ghost-write their memoirs?

“At least one of the Visconti triplets – I’m betting real money now – will become a fire-and-brimstone evangelical minister.  Each and every member of his congregation, even if you ask them in private, will swear that they have never ever seen the videos.  I think about those three men and I worry.  No doubt the bar tab of the Visconti triplets is already a sight to behold. . ."

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