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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 21 Apr 2001 06:35:43 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} "Lookism" Continues Despite 20 years of Feminist Progress
Date: Sat, 21 Apr 2001 18:10:02 -0400
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        "Lookism" Continues Despite 20 years of Feminist Progress


         About ten years ago someone in NAMBLA got the bright idea of
suggesting that NAMBLA go out of business.  Their complaint was that,
since NAMBLA had failed to achieve its goals, having come into being
about 1980, when all the feminist fundamentalist terror got going, they
might as well quit.  My response was that it took Christianity 300 years
to win over the population.  If Jesus Christ needed 300 years to
convince people of the benefits of Christianity, it was perhaps slightly
presumptuous of pedophiles to think they could get the job done in ten.
         So here I sit in 2001, feeling somewhat exasperated that the
pedophobia of the modern age is still going strong.  In two days I found
two separate articles in the Financial Times of London about
pedophiles.  And though I was disappointed to see the articles, I wasn't
surprised.  As I thumbed through each issue I felt, subconsciously,
before I even found the articles, that there must be amidst all that
news on stocks and Alan Greenspan something about pedophiles.  It seems
there's always an article on pedophiles, whether the publication is
Newsweek, T.V. Guide, or the Financial Times.
         In the case of the Financial Times, nobody had been "caught"
doing anything, which is par for the course in 2001.  No, it was simply
fear, or the fun of hatred.  A new National High-Tech Crime Unit came
into being in Britain, according to the first article I read, and what
was top of the list of so-called "criminals" that they planned to go
after?  Pedophiles.  I suppose murder and terrorism are somewhere
further down on the list, although they actually weren't mentioned at
all.  A murdered child is safe from "abuse", I suppose.
         The second article was a proposal that all applicants for the
priesthood in Britain should be entered into and screened by a national
database, since, in the course of their duties, priests are sometimes in
the vicinity of children.  Another proposal was that each church parish
should appoint a child protection officer.  If feminist sanctimony can
reach any greater heights, I can hardly imagine it.  Perhaps someday
soon each checkout clerk at the grocery store will have to be screened
in advance of employment, since children sometimes pass through the
store.  And each store will have its own child protection officer.  "I
stock the lettuce and protect the children," some woman will have
written above her plastic employee name tag.
         At least the "missing" children milk carton ads are gone.  This
is actually something of a disappointment to me.  There were some cute
girls on some of those cartons.  And what was even better, if the child
was ever "recovered", she would be returned home.  Her home, as well as
her vital statistics, were printed right on the milk carton!  Perfect
for a desperate pedo like me looking for another cute girl to kidnap.
         Had you there for a minute, didn't I?  In fact, though, it was
the grocery store where I saw one of the cutest girls of my life,
yesterday.  She was a real live dream girl.  I saw her in the parking
lot, while I was still in my car, pulling into a stall.  She was all the
way on the other side of the lot, but my "little girl radar", which
brings little girls to my attention even in my dreams, spotted her
immediately.  She was walking into the store with her mother, not by
herself or with a friend her own age (or, God forbid, a boyfriend),
which is a good sign since a girl who visits the grocery store with her
mother is undoubtedly still a virgin.
         This girl was about 14, at least from the vantage point I had
from inside my car, on the other side of the parking lot.  Fourteen's a
little old for me, but she was so spectacular-looking that I thanked my
lucky stars and followed her into the grocery for a closer look.
         Actually, I walked into the grocery's other entrance, looking
as casual as I could.  I go there a lot and store security has probably
long since identified me as a "dirty old man," or some such thing, since
as luck would have it I see a lot of little girls there.
         Whether or not store security had noticed me, I found I had a
problem.  As I rolled along with my cart, gazing down each aisle, I
realized to my increasing dismay that I had lost the girl!  Where could
she be?  I searched desperately, and my agony mounted when I reached the
other side of the store, the last aisle, and found that she wasn't
there!  She had looked so beautiful-- how could I have lost her so
quickly?
         I finally found her.  She was still by the store's entrance,
with her mom, gazing at the donuts that the store keeps right next to
the front door for people getting something quickly on their way to
work.  Unfortunately, the second I saw her, even though I was far away,
she saw me!  Our eyes met, and for someone my age that is not a good
thing.  She glared at me, obviously put out and suspicious.  Of course I
was swept away by her beauty, and only trying to admire it, but in our
Puritanical age girls are taught to mark this down to some form of
horrendous "abuse."  I imagine if this continues someday we will be
saying, "There was a beautiful sunset today, but I didn't look at it
because it would abuse the sun."
         Of course her anger at having me look at her did nothing to
lessen my desire.  The girl, even from the distance that I was observing
her, was incredible.  I did my best to interest myself in some cheese
sitting in a freezer bin in front of me, but the girl remained highly
suspicious of me, and kept looking in my direction.  Finally she and her
mother wound their way over to the meat section, with me, of course,
following their progress all the way, trying to admire the girl and yet
trying to seem interested in everything else in the store except her. 
What, after all, could be more interesting than day old wrapped cheese
and decaying, plastic boxed "quickie" salads?
         As the girl and her mother inspected the meat, I again
positioned myself in the best possible way to drink in the girl's
beauty.  And this time, even as the girl kept looking annoyed and in my
direction, I got a real shock.  It was my first reasonably close (i.e.
more than 20 yards but less than 40) look at her.  She had perfect big
juicy breasts, perched on a small frail childlike frame.  The ultimate
in female beauty.
         "My God!  Look at her tits!" I gasped to myself.  It was
amazing.  They just stuck out there, despite the girl's under-sized
body, which was clearly still that of a child.  Then she turned, and I
admired her ass.  It was utterly perfect, a slender yet flaring pair of
hips, atop long legs.
         I realized there was little I could do to get a closer look,
with her so anxious about my presence.  So I let them go, for awhile,
and when I spotted her later she was checking each aisle as she and her
mother rolled past it with their cart, as if expecting me to jump out
from behind the cereal, for instance, and grab her and run off with
her.  Finally they got to the other side of the store, a big open space,
and I guess God must have decided to do me a favor because I was able to
more or less stare at the girl (while pretending to be interested in
bags of peanuts), without her being too put out that I was looking at
her.
         And then they checked out of the store and left, shortly
after.  For some reason I never see girls like this a second time, but I
will forever cherish her memory.  She was so perfect.  Well, her face
was just average perfect, by which I mean it was cute but not
spectacular.  Really, the great thing about her, which I mentioned to
myself even as I was looking at her, was her body!  Slender, frail,
small, delicate, like a new grown flower, but with those young wonderful
tits growing out the front of it.  What was even more amazing was that,
even though she was wearing a bra, her nipples were standing up.  If you
can imagine a young innocent girl with perky nipples, atop deliciously
big breasts, you will have a pretty good impression of her.  The thing
that made her so wonderful was how slender the rest of her body was. 
Her torso, for instance, even when viewed from the side, was probably no
thicker than my arm.  But her breasts were big enough to make a woman
proud.  Yet they weren't gargantuan breasts, just nice and big, while
still having a newgrown tender appearance to them.
         Yes, I was smitten by her body.  I'm sure she would have many
interesting and wonderfully childish comments to make if I knew her, and
her face was sweet to look at, but in the end it was all body- body-
body.  Not the flamboyant "look at me" strutting, slutty body of an
18-year-old, but the still nervous and uncertain body of a girl who is
14, or perhaps 13 or 12.  She had such a frail look (except for her
tits), it was impossible for me to pin down her exact age.  Every
movement she made was like watching something incredibly beautiful, more
beautiful than the best thing you can imagine, a butterfly or a dappled
fawn.  I stood in awe in the store as I watched her leave.  It is
amazing to me that more men don't notice young, beautiful girls. 
Especially the unsullied child girls.  Instead they seem to fantasize
endlessly over commercially manufactured women, Pamela "slut" Anderson,
or the mature man-hating Britney Spear(ed).  Britney may be a better
idol than Mr(s). Anderson, but she's still a long-since deflowered
female, and one that is being sold as relentlessly as toothpaste.  No,
I'll take the girls who are still uncomfortable with their developing
bodies, who have yet to experience their sexuality.  Whether they're
eight (which is great, since they never notice me), or 14 and sullen,
they are vastly preferable to the mass-marketed bitches.  Besides, in 20
years there will still be Britney Spears crap floating around, stuffed
into every closet and attic on three or four continents.  But this girl,
who will probably never be photographed by anyone except her mom, will
have passed into the anonymity of adulthood, a struggling mother
somewhere, burdened by children and age, her beauty lost forever, except
in this essay.
         And the thing is, she didn't even like that I was looking at
her.

         - Tom in Hokkaido


         holy joe replies:

         Dear Tom, you are very sick.  You should seek treatment
immediately.  Everyone knows that it's okay to be a fag, transvestite,
negro, Indian, feminist radical, or bondage freak, but not a pedophile.


                                         AND IN THE END... 

      The Destruction of the Buddhas of Bamiyan -- and "Kiddie Porn"

         "Somewhat rarer is the direct destruction of art objects as a
way of making a political point."

         - The New Yorker, March 19, 2001, pg. 45.


----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
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     http://www.isil.org  http://www.fear.org  http://www.fija.org
     http://www.aclu.org
-- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427)
     is copyright 2001 by Andrew Roller.  Dreamgirls, Naughty Naked
     Dreamgirls, and NND are registered trademarks of Andrew Roller.
     All rights reserved.
-- Visit me at:  http://home.earthlink.net/files/Authors/Roller/www666/index.html
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