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Friday, March 28, 2008

Furries Threaten Sanctity of Bestiality

Have you ever seen or read something that you just know that you were better off not knowing? Something that you can file in that over-sized “too much information” file. If you are a regular reader of Dan Savage’s sex advice column, Savage Love, too much information is a weekly by-product of his question and answer column format and where I learned about a most disturbing trend in sexuality. If you want to do yourself a favor, leave the room while the rest of us discuss the revolting topic of furries: people who dress up like animals for sexual role playing.

As a life-long liberal and civil libertarian, I think that what consenting adults do behind closed doors is their business and no one has the right to interfere in any way. In the case of furries I must make an exception to my tolerant outlook for one important reason: furries threaten the very sanctity of bestiality. The relationship between a man, or woman, and an animal—both domestic and otherwise—is a bond reaching back to the very dawn of human history. Now that bond is under attack by men or women in vulgar costumes pretending to be some sort of critter, thus excluding one half of the precise formula that has made bestiality such a resounding triumph over the millennia.

Just this past weekend I settled back on the couch to enjoy what I thought was a video of some good, old-fashioned bestiality that I had borrowed from my pastor. To my abject horror, what I thought was the utter depths of depravity turned out to be nothing more than a strung-out, teenage runaway and two guys wearing a moose suit. The furries had struck again, this time in my own home. In my home! All that I can say is that I’m glad that the wife took the kids to see her mother and they weren’t subjected to this filth. The reverend has a lot of explaining to do. After all, we’re supposed to be a fundamentalist congregation and here he loans me this twisted excuse for porn. What is our world coming to?

Before all of you freaks who prefer human-on-human pornography start complaining (yawn, same species sex is so 20th century) and say “not our problem,” ask yourselves this question: What if your adult viewing habits were suddenly compromised? What if you discovered that instead of what you thought was a teenage nymphomaniac getting her brains screwed out, you had just got hot and heavy watching a pair of woodchucks dolled up in a Catholic school girl’s uniform? How would you feel if during the height of ecstasy you discovered that instead of ogling a sweaty hunk you just tossed off to a scene with an armadillo disguised as a swimming pool maintenance man? Still think it’s “not your problem?” By the way, even aficionados of bestiality find this sort of thing repulsive—it’s the equivalent of cross-dressing and it’s just plain wrong.

If this sort of thinking makes me old fashioned or conservative, then so be it. I’d rather be branded as a prude than stand by and watch as some dudes dressed up as sea otters destroy the centuries of trust and caring that have developed between humans and the rest of god’s creatures.

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