An Open Letter to The Chive

By: Cock Rock Posted in Culture, Manliness on Tuesday, July 26, 2011

a mouth-breather’s point of view

You guys put together a great website as far as websites go, which is another way of saying you’ve found your niche in the lowest common denominator market. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. We need our Jay Lenos, our Charlie Sheen t-shirts, our Christianity, and so we need our photos that are re-compiled from the re-compilation of photos from other websites.

But sometimes parading around the lowest common denominator goes too far, and you begin to debase yourselves in doing so. I don’t know exactly where this line is. I have no abstract theory you could apply to each concrete instance that threatens the dignity of even the internet, but I know that it exists, and it seems like you guys have crossed it.

Recently it has been brought to my attention that you sometimes post pictures that your followers, aka “Chivers,” have taken of unsuspecting girls they see on the street. Not street girls, but just regular girls that they see on the street.

Let me re-word this if it doesn’t seem like a big deal: You post pictures of girls who were photographed for the same reason the private security at a nude beach is usually large enough to storm Normandy.

In one of the pictures in question, a Chiver was standing behind a Hooters waitress in line at a convenience store. Instead of talking to her, or saying hi, or even making some stupid joke like, “so where do you work?” he took a picture of her backside, behind her back. You then gave him a cyber high-five by posting the picture.

This, ahem, man who took this picture had the opportunity to chat up a Hooters waitress away from the place where she gets chatted up the most, to express some sort of sexual interest in her, to even just make fun of her for serving terrible food. This could beget a date with this girl and then possibly turn into something more, giving her life meaning that all the drawl compliments from a goatee’d clientele never could. But instead, like a guy who checks internet meme sites all day, he takes out his cell phone and snaps a picture. He might as well be in a trench coat, behind a bush, and wearing a panty shield.

Instead of being creeped out by this picture, instead of emailing this fellow “Chiver” back and admonishing him to stop being a weirdo, you thought the picture was “Chive”-worthy.

Although maybe you could overlook this photo as anti-social, stage-five virgin behavior. Maybe you just saw a girl’s butt in those Hooters shorts and put it up in your “hump day” post without thinking twice. After all, we all make mistakes, as you guys demonstrate in your FAIL compilations.

Up until recently, I have given you the benefit of the doubt. But on Tuesday of last week, you dedicated an entire post to voyeuristic photos that you took from the second-story balcony of your office that overlooks The Strand at Venice Beach.

Do you know how many men have lived throughout history who have been, by dint of their shitty, politically-corrupt, sexually-oppressed circumstances, unable to lay their eyes on that many beautiful women in their whole life? The story of human pair bonding is the story of guys who only get one mating opportunity. So to stand on that boardwalk, with the freedom to talk to every single girl who walks by, in probably the most beautiful part of the world, is a blessing. I’m not a religious man, so my use of the word “blessing” does not carry with it a religious connotation, but if any experience deserves a religious connotation, it’s being flooded by beautiful girls.

Yet you use this opportunity, this day on which Providence shines, on a boardwalk suffocated with beautiful girls, to do the adult equivalent of pulling the covers over your head and surreptitiously putting a lens between you and your other half. I mean, I’m freaking out over here just thinking of all the kissing toll opportunities that you guys missed.

The Dude, probably one of the three divine persons of The Chive’s holy trinity, famously stated that we should not treat objects like women. But since this noble, drug-induced decree, have we become so disengaged from the world of women that we’ve taken the next step and let our objects literally get between us and women? No one can abide in a world like this, not even The Dude.

Of course, this is the internet, so by all means, continue to fill your pages with streams of photos that activate our eyes in lieu of our brains, and fill your headlines with all the frat vernacular and solecism that your hearts desire. But the lowest common denominator has to stop somewhere. And while I’m not sure exactly where the line is, it’s probably between a camera lens and a girl you should be talking to.


Cock Rock

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    About Cock Rock

    I am Mark.

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