Big pimpin' on Facebook

College-aged Pornhub star son with nipple, arm, and abs

Good golly, I have been tested this week.

On Facebook, if you can read about my tacky tastes and blunt assessments of our political world or hear my loudmouth opinions and silly jokes, you're part of my "inner circle" list, people with whom I share some history and humor and hold some views in common.

There's an "outer circle" of people I know professionally, "impersonally" (not well at all), used to know (many [but not all people] from high school), and those who can't resist making a leering, off-color, rabidly crazy, or otherwise inappropriate remark whenever I post a photo or share a thought.

I'm lazy and should clean up my timeline, but there you have it.

As you may have detected, I can be ... snarky. And sometimes certain people in the outer circle provide a certain amount of ... snarkspiration,™ if you will.

This is one of those times.

Tormenting me in particular at the moment:

• There's the person who named her child after an internal body part because she goofed on the original spelling. Or so I'm assuming.
• There's the guy who is a champion of self-promotion and insists on using a photo in his media releases (sorry, I mean posts) with the most egregiously waxed eyebrows this side of RuPaul's Drag Race. 
• There's the gal with perfectly normal eyebrows whose every photo looks like it's part of a weird "Country Christian Playboy" portfolio. Barbie Benton meets The 700 Club. Or some such.
• And there's the couple who seem to love their college-aged son a little too much. The lingering close-ups of his muscled torso while he preens for the camera seem too close, too adoring for comfort.

Dear lascivious parents, just so you know, the images didn't go unappreciated by likely-not-your-target-audience. Unless of course you're aiming for the kid to fund his way through school with a sideline pay-to-play jack-off site. And, if so, I need a password!

There's probably nothing inherently pornographic about these parents pimpin' out their favored son. (It should be noted that the other young man in some of the photos--a brother or half-brother or step-brother apparently--doesn't seem to get the same amount or depth attention.) If anything, Junior's fit physique seems as praiseworthy as every other moment or accomplishment in the young's man life, all of which are treated with adoration and veneration and recorded for posterity, in either still or moving image.

We can always assume that a well muscled torso will catch my eye. It's just that there are so darn many of these photos and videos--Junior goes swimming! Junior works out! Junior checks out his definition in the mirror! Junior shows off his guns! Junior meets other muscle men at the gym! So, naturally, I look, question the intent of these photos (Junior's smile--not shown here--seems as posed for maximum effect as his muscle shots), and tsk-tsk-tsk the hapless parents.

Meanwhile, I work out a script in my head involving Junior the horndog's fiancée making him wait 'til marriage, and one of his muscle-bound friends at the gym help him relieve some pre-wedding night tension in the locker room ....

Of course, for all the schadenfreude, I dare not think too much about people snickering over my ridiculousness, ignorance, and out-and-out dumbness. In my own way, with my tacky tastes, my silly jokes, my blunt assessments of our political world, my loudmouth opinions, what have you, I am sure I provide some schadenfreudic satisfaction to others.

Snark giveth and snark taketh away.

But at the moment it giveth more than it taketh--and this makes my mouth hurt from having to bite my tongue so much.

Who knew He was so needy?

So Jesus died for our sins. Thanks, I guess, but did anyone ask him to do this? A card or a gift certificate for an oil change would have sufficed.
Honestly, the people I am "friends" with on Facebook and the groups they follow and share with the rest of the world. Lord, save us all.

It's bad enough dealing with their crazy lust for guns/the permanent exile of illegal immigrants and welfare scofflaws (or whom they perceive as such)/the head of Barack Obama on a rusty trashcan lid. But then two groups--"FB/CuteguysOfficial" and "Shut-Up-I'm-Talking"--have to proselytize for abject Christianity and turn Jesus into some sort of passive-aggressive, stalkery boyfriend-savior.

I think it's fair to say that while I was raised Protestant and can appreciate its history, traditions, and even some of its practitioners (Jimmy Carter, for one fine example), I long ago gave up on participating in its activities and the whole let's-bash-you-to-death-with-the-love-of-Jesus mentality. I'm not sure I was ever on board in the first place, in fact.

I have nothing against Protestantism, per se. In fact, I rather like how Protestants fought against the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church and aimed to have a direct spiritual relationship with God, rather than through some dodgy intermediaries.

I also have nothing against Jesus, mind you. He seems like a great guy, one whom if we actually listened to, we might learn something, and actually treat people by the guidance of Christ's principles, something we often claim to do but fail miserably at.

But I'm bored and frustrated with this tradition. I'm not sure if Jesus is the son of God. I hardly think it matters. The more important thing is what did He (and God) try to tell us? How does it resonate in the here and now? Are we listening? And what will we do about what we heard?

From Planet Earth, Team America Division, in October 2013, I'm guessing we were all staring at our phones while He was talking.

Letter perfect

One perhaps can assume that "Colon" is an alternate spelling for "Colin." Otherwise, I find it an odd custom to celebrate one's digestive tract. Especially with donuts.

 

For the Bible FX tell me so

Facebook is rapidly losing my interest and dissipating my patience. I know far too many people from high school, too many spouses of distant friends, who have very different approaches to life than my own.

Oh, I know, I know. I've heard of The Filter Bubble. I'm an "information professional": I get that Google, Facebook, and others are commercial enterprises and only show us what we're interested in, siphoning away differing opinions and worldviews. (It also means that I've heard of the book, read the reviews, but not actually digested the text.)

And I like that fact, especially when it comes to turning off and tuning out all the gun-toting, Bible thumping, homo-bashing, Chick-Fil-A-eating, universal healthcare-fearing, Obama-hate-mongering "friends" I have who barf up their intellectual cud for me on a daily basis.

Oh, I have learned to give as good (or as bad) as I get, but at the end of day, I really just want to send Mark Zuckerberg a black rose and close my Facebook once and for all. I'm sure he's all in tears over the thought of saying goodbye to me.

Anywho, The Bible series apparently debuted on TV last night. I don't even know what to say regarding this post. The "doubters" will be impressed by "awesome" special effects? Somehow I don't think so. If Charlton Heston parting the Red Sea didn't knock 'em out, I don't thing some of that ol' Industrial Light & Magic is gonna do the trick either.

Bring Charlton Heston back from the dead long enough to let him shoot himself in the foot with his own AK-47? Now that would erase any doubt.

For the record, I'm agnostic, which means I'm too befuddled to be a true believer (or even a Belieber) and too lazy to be an atheist.

Regardless of my thoughts on the matter, though, I truly hope this friend heard God's voice speak to her last night--at least long to tell her to change the channel.  

The Bible series is on The History Channel, not Discovery.