Why I'm Worried About Raising a Son in Our Upcoming Brave New World of Android Prostitution
Chinese hospitals are introducing a new machine which can extract sperm for donors.
According to China’s Weibo social platform the automatic sperm extractors are being introduced in a Nanjing hospital, capital of Jiangsu province.
The pink, grey and white machine has a massage pipe at the front which apparently can be adjusted according to the height of its user.
Speed, frequency, amplitude and temperature are also controllable.
It has a small screen on the top which plays films for the user to help them with the extraction process.
The director of the urology department at Zhengzhou Central Hospital said the machine was being used by infertility patients who are finding it difficult to retrieve sperm the old fashioned way.
A website which is selling the machine for $2,800 promoting it stating 'it can give patients very comfortable feeling.'
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In the recent debates here at PJ Lifestyle about what swimsuit styles were acceptable for women trying to look sexy but inappropriate for little girls heading for a fun day at the beach, one of the commenters wanted to know why I thought more in terms of a future daughter rather than a son (he also assumed I was a reincarnation of Andrea Dworkin):
You are very persistant in wanting people to “show me a swimsuit that you find objectionable and would not want your daughter wearing”. I’ve told you what my daughters liked. Now I must tell you what I wouldn’t get them? Why? Why is knowing that so important?
Finally, are you planning on raising your children(you keep saying ‘daughter’–you’re very focused on the notion that your child will be a girl, why?) in the San Fernando Valley? Do you think your one man crusade on PJM will change the Valley in the next ten or fifteen years?
“Why is knowing that so important?”
Because I’ve set a standard for a swimsuit that is inappropriate for my future daughter to wear while she’s a child. I might be wrong about where to draw the line. So show me where you draw the line instead. Tell me the kind of bathing suit fashion that you identify as acceptable for adult women wanting to attract male attention vs inappropriate for little girls who should never have their goal with their swimwear. [...]
“you’re very focused on the notion that your child will be a girl, why?”
Because my wife and I are used to the idea of thinking in terms of daughters because our Siberian Husky puppy Maura is a girl. And I have known many women who were damaged by the absence of having a good father in their lives — that inspires me to think in terms of how I will be there for my own future daughter. (The damage done to boys who don’t have their Dads present is surely just as painful — but this is not an experience I understand as much as girls growing up without their dads.) The gender of my future children is not important and I intend to be a father to both boys and girls.
“in the San Fernando Valley?”
If we’re still living here when they’re born then of course.
“Do you think your one man crusade on PJM will change the Valley in the next ten or fifteen years?”
I’m not trying to change the Valley nor am I waging a campaign against pornography. I’m just writing blog posts to try and get people to think about things differently.
There's more to why I worry more about raising a son rather than a daughter, though.
First, understand that when I talk about having kids, my wife and I think in terms of 10-15 years from now -- for very different reasons. For her it's just that she wants to finish grad school, establish her career, see the world, and live her life a bit first. (And she already got a large serving of parenthood helping raise my brother-in-law.)
For me it's also job-related. I've spent the last 3 years working full time editing online publications devoted to revealing the global ascendance of antisemitic, Islamic, and Marxist radicals. From my perspective the year isn't 2012, it's 1932. Adolf Hitler gave a speech yesterday at the UN and Neville Chamberlain responded this morning. If possible, I'd rather wait to have kids until after we win World War IV (and re-win World War III). And 10-15 years sounds like a good estimate as to when that will be. I'd rather raise the next generation of spoiled baby boomers growing up in an optimistic, high-tech neo-1950s-style 2030s, rather than struggle through raising kids during the serious war years coming in the next decade.
What's going to be the decisive factor that enables the West to triumph over Marxism and Islam? Here's a guess from my reading of history: if the nuclear bomb allowed us to win World War II, could the leap to sophisticated artificial intelligence do the same today?
So here's the deal, an expansion of the question where I concluded my last post on "sex bots":
Right now the stage one thinking seems to be that “Oh, well some day people will be able to have sex with some blond porn star robot. Harmless.”
But what happens when the robot isn’t a woman but a child? What happens when the sex being simulated isn’t erotic and intimate but violent and destructive? What happens when the sexual simulation ends like a combination video game and snuff film? What happens when a bunch of teenage boys pool their money to buy a robot prostitute they can gang rape? And what happens when that is what 13-year-old boys experience as their first initiations into a sexual life?
What will our world be when people lose their virginity to a machine?
"Pornography" is a much more complicated issue than the usual framing that "pro-sex" hedonists and "anti-sex" prudes like to give it. I think by now most Americans have adopted some shade of middle ground position -- explicit sexual images and videos are neither harmless nor are they an inevitable personal apocalypse. The diversity of porn needs to be acknowledged. The scenes filmed for married couples -- erotic and pleasurable sex where everyone has a good time -- are very different than much of the stomach-churning stuff of today -- where it's not uncommon for women to be led around on dog leashes into a room of a dozen men and for the scene to end with tears running down her face.
It's like comparing a glass of wine to a shot of Everclear. Or a $1 McDonald's cheeseburger to a "monster thickburger" from Hardee's.
We've come to know this because three generations of American men have managed to survive the widespread availability of porn without all devolving back into ancient Canaanite barbarians worshiping Baal and Astarte. Sure, there have been some "casualties" with men who grow obsessed -- just as some become alcoholics or obese fast food addicts. But most people get moderation and understand that life is lived in between the extremes of a Madonna-Whore complex.
In spite of the technological advancements over the last 50 years, the experience of porn hasn't changed significantly. Whether it was boomers finding Dad's Playboy stash in the '60s, Gen Xers meeting Ron Jeremy via VHS tapes in the '80s or now Millennials growing up in the age of the internet -- there's only so deep of an imprint seeing and fantasizing can have on one's brain.
I think I could probably raise a son to navigate through this and end up a decent man who wants a marriage and who doesn't think that real women want to be treated like porn stars in the bedroom. Enough fathers around today have managed it.
But the development of sexual robots throws a big unknown into a father's role of teaching his son self-restraint. I saw my first pornography at a friend's house in the fifth grade. But what would have happened if instead of a magazine, my friend had a machine that could simulate sex acts? What happens when 10 year old boys start learning about sex with machines like China's "sperm extractor"? What transformations will happen to human sexuality when the sex provided from machines can be more exciting than with real people? What does a father say to his 10-year-old son when he comes home with stories about how all of his friends are wanting him to "try out" their robot girlfriends?
Updated: Many thanks to the first commenter, Chambers, for the reminder of one of the funniest gags in Woody Allen's Sleeper. I'm annoyed at myself for not thinking of it first:
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