Auntie Climax

From time to time the empirical lights of the real reality shine through the scrim of received opinion, or as the Times interlocutor calls it, "a zeitgeist," and we get an accidental glimpse of the stagehands grappling with the foy rig; ladies and gentlemen, if you will proceed calmly toward the exits; refunds and vouchers will be issued.  Ahem.  It appears in a recent study that America's endangered youth are not, in fact, a universal pact (pack?) of pornographers.  Indeed it appears that the youths are quite depressingly ordinary in this regard; their perversions quotidian; their fleshy imaginations, on the average, mundane.  You can hear the collective mental apparatus of the official media sighing with relief in every sentence of the story.  The kids is alright.  A notion shared by both the fundamentally Luddite mind of the traditional media and by the various evangelicals of technological rapture is the idea that technology fundamentally alters the nature of the human animal, that the soul itself is somehow changed by cell phone radiation, or whathaveyou.  It turns out that even with their minds plugged directly into Skynet, teenagers exhibit the same charmingly skillless sexual appetites that they always have, fucking more often than their parents would prefer but less often than they themselves would have you, or each other believe.