Google Porn Killed My Computer. Does This Mean The Terrorists Win?

I would first like to say that as a 40-something liberal-somewhat-feminist woman, it pains me to know the definition of “M.I.L.F.” I believe I shouldn’t know that little tidbit of pop culture. Yet I do.

And Big Woop. I looked.

In 2004, I had to write a paper for my sociology class that involved the search and research of various “Internet Databases” that covered the material needed for said paper. Google got a wide variety of hits from my address over the course of a week that covered French newspaper articles on a disturbing gang rape phenomenon occurring among Muslim teens in the projects of Paris called “tournante,” meaning “Take your turn.” Because the scope of my paper involved reported theories linking the phenomenon to the accessibility to minors of porn on the internet, I decided to do a little surfing. My textbook did state that one could find anything if one looked. I used Google as my search engine, and brought up sites on bestiality (the textbook referenced bestiality, so I HAD do try that one), rape, incest, hillbilly sex (since a Google search on “incest” brought up a bunch of sites depicting “first rights” pictorials of father-daughter, brother-sister violent acts) and for my own non-paper related curiosity, since I’d heard the term but didn’t know what it meant, sites devoted to the fabulous “M.I.L.F.” Who knew the average suburban soccer mom could be so limber? All the sites came with little MPEGs showing little film shorts of the various acts and practices. None of the MPEGs required a credit card – they were up and running when I hit on the site. Eezy-peezy – a child could do it.

I was reminded of that painting of Kramer on “Seinfeld” that goes something like: “It’s like a train wreck. One is horrified, yet cannot look away.” I felt a little - okay not just a little - sick to my stomach – yet I kept surfing. It also occurred to me that perhaps I should contact the SPCA to ask what the hell they were doing to protect defenseless horses and dogs from what I was seeing. I told Manpants that I had been surfing these sites, and in that distracted Manpants-is-doing-other-things kind of way, he said, “Mmmm. That’s nice dear.” One little film after another – and of course the MPEGs somehow saved on my computer history, despite my going through what I thought was everything and deleting cookies, history, etc. . . so that the very same week when Manpants went to review something on Real Player, he got an eyeful. I remember coming home and him sitting at the computer looking a little green. He looked at me, and I knew in an instant. HE HAD SEEN.

“You saw them, didn’t you.”

“Yup. They stayed in the computer.”

“I feel so dirty.”

“Me too.”

“I may never want to have sex again.”

Well, I turned in my paper, (got an A) and about a week or so later, the computer seized up, crashed and died. No amount of technical savvy on the part of anyone could get the thing up and running again. Data was lost that hadn’t been saved elsewhere and we were greatly inconvenienced – not to mention having to shell out a few grand for a new computer. We were informed by my fabulous (and thankfully non-judgmental-porn-surfing) computer wiz friend that my various landings of various sites was the culprit. I haven’t touched The Porn since. At least not on the internet.

Imagine my relief to know that all my searches were on Google and not on Yahoo or MSN. Can you imagine the flags going up over my searches back and forth from Porn to Muslim teenagers? What WOULD they think; those mental giants who are running our country? The mind boggles.

I believe in free speech. I am capable of being in favor of our constitutional rights, while simultaneously finding some of that free speech disgusting, depraved, hateful and loathsome on more levels than words can express. It’s my own damn responsibility for seeking it out and looking at it. Should such sites be readily accessible and available to children? No – but they are out there and parents have a responsibility to supervise their children and speak to them frankly about all things that can effect them today – not to use the computer and television as a means of getting the child out of their hair – then blame everyone else if their child is exposed to something under their watch that they could have prevented by being, oh, a PARENT. Between internet predators that troll children’s chat rooms and a plethora of disturbing images that could seriously jar a child’s first impressions about sexuality – the parent has a tough job staying on top of that – but guess what? It’s their job. The government demanding the web addresses of those who might surf this stuff is NOT going to protect children, anymore than the idea that listening to our boring-ass phone conversations is going to actually protect us from a terrorist attack.

I applaud Google for refusing to release the web addresses of internet surfers to the government. I am also, personally, mighty relieved.