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In light of the impending release of the film adaptation of the notoriously infamous Fifty Shades of Grey, I’m suddenly struck by the almost directly opposing expectations and accepted content of texts with this particular type of storyline when adapted to, or originally composed in, certain mediums. Basically, what I mean is this: have you ever noticed how raunchy bodice-ripper books can go into excruciating detail when describing the inevitable boinky-boinky between the criminally repressed heroine and her deeply compelling and jaw-droppingly gorgeous saviour? And yet, when translated into film, such attention to detail would immediately cause this work to be relegated to the realms of pornography – an evil, evil world populated by perverts and virginal geeks.

It is an example of astonishing hypocrisy, I feel. Is there some kind of consensus, which states that erotic novels are perfectly acceptable, but visual erotica is for lower life forms?

More importantly, based on this consensus, should written porn be readily available to any person, and if so, how is this any different to trawling the Internet for that picture-perfect clip that pushes all your pervy buttons?

Somehow this is undoubtedly linked to the decades-long stigma that defines visual porn as smutty and morally degrading. But again, I wonder, how this is in any way different from these explicit scenes virtually oozing from every, and any, page found in this recent influx of pulp-fiction pseudo-romcom erotic novels. Surely one’s moral fiber can as easily be reduced by the insidious whispers of written porn, if not more so because of its innocuous appearance. It’s only a book, after all, and there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of exciting reading! Sure thing, lady, tell that to Hitler and Mein Kampf

Essentially, as an enthusiastic knight in the quest against double standards, I now express my disapproval of this social norm and its judgmental repercussions (for what it’s worth). If sexually desperate mommies can get their kicks from imagining Christian Grey practically inhaling Anastasia Steele’s used panties, then the rest of us are just as entitled to indulge our less-than-conventional predilections, whether they be visual or textual.

And to the movie gods on high, be daring for a change and film an erotically accurate adaptation that has all the sexual oomph without the tawdriness of home-made porn. if you tag it with the right age restrictions, then (in a perfect world) only adult eyes will be free to appreciate your classy, yet equally thrilling, erotique nouveau (yeah I make up my own French words like a bad-ass) genre. I promise, it will be a raging success.

P.s. y’all better be laying some credit on a bitch, yo. Eeeerrbody know I just gave y’all some gold. Nuff said.

La Labouche, signing off…