Dirty Looks on the Down Low

Pornography perpetually remains at the intersection of ubiquitous and inappropriate, an art form discounted to “smut” and yet nonetheless as common as Halo among post­pubescent males. It is the maga­zine hiding under a bed, a list of Web sites in your browser’s recent history, and a DVD your older brother left behind when he went to college. It is also the topic not to be dis­cussed, a thing not tell your girlfriend/wife about, and something that when discovered, is worse than being caught singing in the shower with Sesame Street shampoo and conditioner.

So it must be hid­den well.

For most men, the hiding of pornogra­phy is a rare art, prac­ticed in the hallowed male tradition of con­cealing treasures, traps, secret documents, contraband or drugs away from prying eyes. It is a two-fold challenge: On the one hand, the pornographic materials must be hidden well enough to prevent accidental discovery and to resist a full­scale search. On the other hand, pornography must be kept close at hand (pun intend­ed), allowing for it to be re-hid­den at a moment’s notice.

When involved with porno­graphic materials, there is an ever-present threat of being walked in on. This is why men must train to be minutemen.

Ready at a moment’s notice, done in jiffy. A hiding spot, by extension, must be intimately accessible and yet very conceal­ing. It must be handy, and yet hard to find.

This is why most men just go ahead and use computers. They close easy and fast — often a simple keystroke, mouse click, or laptop slam and you’re free — and they can hide hundreds of files in their endless depths.

A good friend of mine always hid his pornography in his middle school essays folder, maintaining that almost no one would ever want to look through those files besides his own, sex-starved psyche.

The “almost” was his mother, who wanted to find a short story he’d written in eighth grade for a church bulletin on hope, and discovered “Inside Hope” instead.

But that example aside, porn does well on computers. Most people respect the privacy of another individual’s computer, and your modern man can flash through open windows like James Bond through a Soviet sub factory. After a while, it takes no effort at all: Open up the New York Times in one window, and go to town in another. If startled, switch to the New York Times and muse on the coming election. Once left alone, return back to your regularly scheduled program.

Most men are undone by the ridiculousness of the places they hide pornography. If you
are not religious, and suddenly decide to cut a “secret hole” in a large family Bible, then keep it by your bed; people may dis­cover your stash. If you decide to punch a hole in the wall, and stow your gear between two studs, people may discover your stash. If you come up with a voice-activated plasma televi­sion that when called upon drops from the ceiling, people may notice the trap door, the additional reinforcement nec­essary to hold the TV in the ceiling, or the union workmen taking mandatory coffee breaks outside your room.

In short, sometimes the sim­pler solution is more effective.

My roommate, for instance, just keeps his porn in a folder called “Porn” located under “My Computer” on his desktop, and as far as I know, no one has found it yet.

Except me.

Zachary McCune does not believe in pornography. Just in love, and the Tooth Fairy.