Rule 34 Is Only The Beginning
Back in the early 1990s, back before the World Wide Web existed, back when I first got an internet connection, back when my concept of “the internet” meant paying a per-minute telephone fee to connect to an NNTP server to download dirty pictures from the alt.binaries.pictures.erotica newsgroups, one of my first successful image downloads was of an anime-style image of an unfortunate fairy girl. Back then, you usually didn’t know what you were getting until you had it on your hard drive; preview thumbnails were emphatically not a thing and file descriptions were brief and chancy. This redheaded fairy, when she was downloaded and recomposed as a .gif (because that was still the prevailing standard format), turned out to have a paper soda straw in her ass, and she was being painfully inflated by an off-screen villain. There was, of course, a BBS (dial-up bulletin board system) logo on one edge of the picture.
I wrote that description above from ancient memory, before I went for a deep-dive search on my hard drives for the image. But I knew that somewhere, because I am a data hoarder, I would probably have a copy of that image still, buried deep in some muchly-nested subdirectory. It took me almost two hours to find it; it had a 1995 file date on it when I did. Just for fun, here’s a cute pussy-fingering vampire from the same artist and BBS:
(It’s actually kind of a miracle that I found that image series. My data retention system runs to a lot of directories that have subdirectories with vague names like “Data from old computer” and in those directories are more subdirectories named “Data from older computer.” If you iterate that process back to my first MS-DOS computer in 1987, and then sprawl it out over thirty years of branching and diverging backup drives that get dumped and merged and saved and remerged, shit gets messy. The whole wad these days fits easily on a 2-terabyte drive and backs up to another, but finding anything specific is a big ask, indeed.)
Why did I dredge up that inflated-fairy image in particular? Because I remember it, along with a slow-drawing line-by-line monochrome banana-in-pussy image from my first days of frequenting dial-up bulletin board systems, as my formative exposure to the notion that the world of porn is as broad as the world of human imagination. This is often expressed, for arcane internet reasons, as Rule 34: “There is porn of it, no exceptions.”
Rule 34 is not hyperbole. Rule 34 is true.
In fact, the truth is broader than Rule 34 suggests to a casual reader. Not only is there porn of it, there is porn of “its” that you had not yet imagined to exist. And by exist, we’re not talking “exist in the universe”; we’re talking “exist in anybody’s imagination.” Rule 34 can be true even when “it” isn’t actually a thing.
Do you doubt me?
How else do you explain the man who was shoving Gummi worms up his dick, and documenting his progress with photos, back in 1996?
How else do you explain the original tentacle sex, the famous octopus-sex shunga art known in English as The Dream Of The Fisherman’s Wife, painted in 1813 by Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai?
How else do you explain potgirls?
How else do you explain Tubgirl?
OK, so I did you a favor on that one; you might have been expecting the infamous internet grossout tubgirl, the scatalogical one. Google that shit (literally) yourself. Still, point made?
I could go on like this all day. It’s fun. But I think we’re done. Rule 34 is real, people. There is porn of it. No exceptions. Even when “it” isn’t actually a thing!
