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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Tuesday 6 July 2010

My inbox

Like letters to the editor, only with less direction or clarity, the messages I receive on dating sites seem to be making more of a statement about the person who sends them than about anything really to do with me. I've been lazy of late and not checking in so when I finally did, it was to be weighed down by a barrage of noise. I thought I'd group them into some frequently read memos.

I know you asked for Y but... Ah. This old chestnut. I get any number of these, and they can range from "I know you asked for photos but..." or "I know you aren't looking for a partner but..." The rejoinder is, naturally, but what? There is a reason I've written a profile and listed the things I'm interested in. It's because that's what I want. There is no conspiracy, no difficulty, no reading between the lines. I want to do these things, or to meet these people. If that's not you, or not what you are into, then don't message me. Find someone who is interested in you or what you are into. This is by far and away the most frustrating sort of message to get because it's a little like watching someone smack their head against a brick wall. And then complain to me about how I am unfair or unreasonable and that I would really enjoy X or Y (where X or Y usually is "them" and "what they are into") and that I'm cutting down on my options or otherwise ruining my life by not doing so. I've managed thus far. I think I'll cope.

Insert name here I can spot a copy / paste message at a hundred paces. Not just because often they have left the name of the previous person in the body text, but because it doesn't actually seem to connect with anything to do with me. Messages like this tend to appear as a list of things the sender would like to do to / for some random faceless person in latex. Being a random faceless person in latex in the context of a scene is one thing, feeling like you are just the 500th caller on the list is quite another. People generally like to feel a little special. Rather than spam
recipients. I don't know why these messages exist - perhaps like genuine spam (ah, the irony) they secure only one fruitful response per thousands of messages but the eventual quality is enough to make it worth it? They seem a futile gesture in terms of securing an appropriate partner, unless there is a desire to find someone else who gets off on spam and settling down to happily send generic messages to each other for all time.

Kneel, bitch Whether rude, aggressive, stomach-turning or a combination of all three, these are messages sent by dominant males - and it has always been men in my experience - who think that calling someone a slut-whore-cunt and demanding they come over and suck their mighty cock is the most erotic experience a submissive woman can get. For the record, it really, really isn't. At best, it is a bit of a joke. At worst it can be quite hurtful. The challenge for me comes when it becomes clear that not only are they serious, but that they get genuinely angry when you politely tell them to stop talking to you like that. It's a problem of the Internet, of course, people typing what they would never say in public and ignoring the manners their mothers should have taught them. There is often a lot of repressed anger and indignation, when turned down - however politely - I have often received huffy responses on how I wouldn't have been "submissive" enough for them anyway and would have cowered at the sight of their mastery. For me, these represent the very worst of BDSM, combining a total lack of consent with an assumption of the "automatic" (male) dominant right to abuse from the get-go someone who happens to mention that they are a (female) submissive. Or that they are basically fantasists who have consumed too much GOR. Fortunately, I'm getting less and less of these as time goes on. I still get them every now and then and mentally file them under the category of "troll", given that I suspect these messages are only sent out to provoke an angry response. I sometimes wonder if this activity is a fetish, to be in front of the computer imagining the indignant faces on the recipient's face. Which is why I tend to send one reply, berating their rudeness, then block them. I like having the last word.

Hello. That's it. Nothing else. One word messages, usually "hi" or similar. No pre-amble, certainly no amble or even post-amble. Sometimes they stretch to an entire phrase, perhaps as well-wrought as "free to chat?" or "do you like?" or similar. I suppose it's meant to be tantalising, all of those blank pixels. Or perhaps an enigmatic mystery that I will be unable to resist following through to conclusion. They are like little hands, waving up and down, asking to be noticed, but not really stating what it is I should notice or why I might want to. Mostly, however, they look like the sender doesn't have anything to say about themselves or what they want. There's a lazy "trickery" in operation here - the requirement for me to chase them makes me engage in conversation rendering it a half-hearted seduction mechanism.

U R hot! can I spk 2 u?
Text speak. Grammar failures. Incomprehensible messages. I'm a word nerd, I like language and I appreciate the ability to communicate not just clearly but well. I don't mind the odd typo - it's bound to happen every now and then. But using text speak when you are neither curtailed by a word count nor by a mechanism that will not let you draft full sentences is a strange decision, in my mind. This is probably a personal prejudice, perhaps there are other internet users who would consider it perfectly fine to be messaged or even to converse in this fashion.
Not me. I love my words too much. There's a certain childishness about it, which strikes the wrong tone, and whilst I am willing to accept that I might just be old fashioned, I am unlikely to be moved by a piece of writing more at home on a retro IM box than in my inbox.

1 comment:

AnonymousWhore said...

Online dating depresses me so much I have to restrain myself from booting the PC.

I do wonder sometimes is it me, but when I read blogs like this I am reminded that it is most definitely *Them*.