Drawing a Line

Internet dating.

I realize this is somewhat of a sensitive topic. I know a few internet-daters who swear by it. Personally, I think it has great merit. My chances of meeting that special someone would be greatly increased if they A) couldn't see my palid flesh and sunken undead face, or hear my gravelly, Yorkshire accented mispronouncations. This gives time for my personality to draw them in. It's not a great personality, being a little fixated on cynacism, bitterness and consuming despair, but it's probably my best trait. Hopefully, this will cushion any revulsion that might occur the first time we actually meet.

Before internet dating, the shy, niche, or otherwise confused lover would have to fall back on a variety of tricks. Some give up, becoming hideous gargoyles that write hate-fueled, spiteful internet blogs as the rage-spittle flies from their cracked lips. Others have advertised in Lonely Hearts columns in local papers, which is something I play to mercilessly elaborate on in future. Some employ self-help books to boost confidence and correct undesireable behaviour they may have been doing. One young man once handed me a business card, explaining:

"I made these to give to women. That way, they get to know my name, a short discription, and my phone number. Once I give them to people, the ball is in their court. Much easier than speaking, and cushions the rejection."

Please, just give me a chance!

But internet dating has come along, a creeping pheonomina over spread by new mediums of communication over the last ten years somewhat like Islamic fundamentalism only a lot nicer. The promise of allieviating the crushing lonliness of daily life for even five minutes has prompted dozens, if not hundreds, of dating and friendship sites such as OKCupid, Friends Reunited, and Match Affinity which enjoy millions of users.

So what do I have against these sites? Nothing, per se. I wouldn't go on one myself, but it works for some people, including my cousin who found a nice American whom he later divorced. The problem comes with a few of the adverts you see on TV. You know, the Match.com ones, where two herto supermodels meet on a sunny day in a retro-vintage music shop and sing to each other about films. Aside from that not exactly being the point of internet dating - accidentally meeting someone in a shop, it's irritating because... ...well... because it is.

"I like old movies..." "Like the Godfather..." "Three..." "Nah, that's well shit." "But that's just me..." 

About this time, you're probably wondering where the screaming rant comes in. Be patient, because it's building up like a ragegasm right now. The worst offender, by far, is Uniform Dating. So bad, infact, is Uniform Dating, it's blocked by the Council content filters for unsuitable content. Which is a bit far, really because it is less the advert that it is at fault, but more the premise.

The premise of Uniform Dating is:

"Do you work in uniform, or just fancy people who do? Go go to Uniform Dating.com ect ect."

 Not only is the idea of blatantly advertising people's deeper sexual fantasies on TV a little creepy, you can't expect people you meet on there to be of completely sound mind. On the one hand, you've got people who joined up purely because they enjoy the idea of being spanked by a nurse or something. Fine, whatever, but do you really expect to meet a nurse who is willing to meet up with someone who is basically like "lul, I want to sex nurzes." Do you actually expect them to turn up in uniform to their dates? It just seems the entire point of Uniform Dating is not only better kept on the internet, but can probably be worked into just about any other dating site.

Further to this point, real-life uniform wears are not that sexy. Sure, the fantasy is of a super smoking hawt nurse in a skimpy white dress. The reality is probably a woman in her mid-40's in unrevealing blue scrubs. She's the wrong side of plump, chain-smokes and has a thousand yard stare from treating too many inebriated teenagers at 3AM.

Now, I realize I'm probably starting to sound a little bit like a 1950's right winger, paranoid about short skirts and 'rock and roll'. Not really, I don't care. But I really, really, don't like adverts. The problem Uniform Dating has now is that it has created a niche dating site, albeit trying to broaden their appeal. It's time to draw the line on this sort of TV. People can do whatever they want in their own homes, but I'm not exactly down with eating my tea while a advert like, say, bemybitch.com comes on. Picture it.

"Do you like hardcore BDSM, or just fancy those who enjoy having candle wax poured over their nipples? At Be My Bitch dot com, you can find thousands of submissive servants who love licking dog feaces off your spiked heels."

Perhaps it'll go broader, but when will it stop? Midget Clown Glass Insertion? Machina Love? Animal Farm? What dark possibilities lie within the frenzied money-making minds of our evil capitalist overseers. Something must be done, before television consists entirely of Insurance and Dating adverts, or even an unholy union of the two - offering protection against sexually transmitted diseases while encouraging you to visit websites of dubious appeal.

Ladies and Gentlemen - Internet Dating.

Is this the dystopia you want to live in?