Them's Fightin' Words!

There’s an article in The Boston Globe called “The Pornification of America”, which observes that the sensibilities of porn are creeping into mainstream culture. You can read it here.

Mostly, the writer seems concerned that Lindsay Lohan is appearing scantily-clad on too many magazine covers, thus reducing all of womanhood into sex objects. One could pause and say, “This is new?”, but instead we shall quote what is to me the most interesting statement in the article:

“Even cooking shows on the Food Network -- the Food Network! -- contain distinct parallels with the cinematography, dialogue, and body language of pornography, according to an article wryly headlined ''Debbie Does Salad" in the October issue of Harper's magazine.”

Food Network? Home of southern fried Paula Dean and my next wife Rachael Ray? It can’t be so. But then the current Mrs. Justice points out to me that they’re probably talking about the Italian cooking show hosted by the large-headed Giada De Laurentiis.


The show, my first wife says, focuses on her cleavage and her long fingers, backed by what sounds like a porn soundtrack.

I don’t know if I believe this. My Food Network? My refuge, the last bastion of civility in a cold, cruel world? Food Network -- where life is free from imaginary Weapons of Mass Destruction, illegal presidential wiretapping and thousands of hurricane victims left homeless by a uncaring government – is a den of sleaze, catering to the baser nature in all of us?

I don’t believe it. I won’t believe –

Wait. I'm watching Food Network now.

I just saw camel toe on Rachael Ray.


Never mind. Sigh.