Hello, my name is Duke Santos. I’ve been a Porn connoisseur since the days when I was sproutin’ pubes back in the 70’s. I am a layman when it comes down to the Porn industry & its business, but I am a big fan of the art and want to share some thoughts from someone considered an “Extraordinary Joe”.
I love Porn. I’ve loved it since the day I skipped school to watch “Porky’s” 3 times in a row. I’ve loved it since I stared buying videotapes from the local Adult Shoppe before even buying a VCR. I loved it since the first time I met Ginger Lynn and almost blew my load in my tan Haggers. It is a true seductive art which has helped me with many date-less days, cold winter nights, and the occasional visit from grandma. Just the mere tingling sensation when you rip open a new DVD from it’s plastic shell – the whiff of that ‘new porn’ smell hitting your nostrils and traveling down to your pleasure sensors feels GREAT. But I’ve noticed that now there are certain times when I no longer am met with the same excitement with the newer releases. In fact, it always feels like a gamble when I have to drop 40 bucks on a DVD that turns out to be half of what it’s claimed to be on the case. Which leads me to this thought I’d like to share:
What I find the issue with today’s product is what I call a “Lack of Bowng-Chiki-Bowng”.
While some of us may find cum facial scenes in which the actress is covered like a Cinnabon during Christmas sexy and hot; or the shots of a man-chowder covered anus being pulled open to reveal tonsils delectable; some of us miss the days when the only premise of a movie was the lonely house wife getting banged by the plumber, the milkman, or paletero. What I mean is that guys like me miss the Bowng-Chiki-Bowng days. That moment when the Bass guitar begins its riff signaling to your dick that it’s time to come out & play. When the “woa-woa” sounds plucked through the strings of the guitar begin to mimic the up & down pelvic thrusts. When the French maid kneels down and tells her boss that his dick needs some cleaning. It’s the fantasy. The one thing that regulars Joe’s can identify with, making the whole experience better. The dumb yet intriguing themes that made porn great to watch while eating Cheetos. Family Porn.
I’m not talking about the actors/actresses performance, the technical features of DVD navigation, nor the cinematography. I respect the work involved in creating a porn film in all its aspects. My issue is the lack of creativity in some of themed movies of today. I’m not advocating the return of afro bush, thick tan-lines or banana-boobs. I’m talking about the innocent-dirt that the late 70’s, all 80’s and some 90’s flicks had. Cool themes like “Devil in Ms. Jones”, Nasty themes like the early “Taboo” series, Silly themes like “Dickman & Throbbin” starring John Holmes and his kickstand. But one major flaw is the lack of Bass music for which this article is called Bowng-Chiki-Bowng. I once heard classical music being played during a threesome scene that made the effect about as hot as jumping in a pool in January. C’mon! Banjo music at least would’ve offered more of a twang for my giddy-up (like any episode of “Hee-Haw” did during my puberty). I guess that’s why I surf the Net much more nowadays. The Duke digs Naughty America and Naughty Office, two of the best sites out there (IMO) which still satisfies the themed fantasy aspect with hot contemporary models, though it could use some funky music here and there.
With Hollywood remaking some of the classic movies from the past, why not remake a classic Porn film featuring the wonderful selection of contemporary actresses & actors in the industry. And make sure you don’t forget the “Bowng-Chiki-Bowng”.
Perhaps I am just choosing the wrong DVD’s. After all I only have two eyes and I can’t watch all the porn that’s out there, but as I approach the prime of my life I do miss some of the craziness that made porn so cool; the look and feel of a porn movie shot on film, or the flickering sound of the projector. Shit, I also miss having the June Cleaver/Donna Reed cheesecake photos in my locker, warm pot-roast in the oven when I come home tired from work, and the cold martini draped in the fingers of my mistress clothed only in my Van-Heusen shirt.
See also: http://www.myspace.com/dukeabouttown
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