Notes from the TEFL Graveyard

Wistful reflections, petty glories.

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Location: The House of Usher, Brazil

I'm a flailing TEFL teacher who entered the profession over a decade ago to kill some time whilst I tried to find out what I really wanted to do. I like trying to write comedy (I once got to the semi-finals of a BBC Talent competition, ironically writing a sitcom based on TEFL), whilst trying to conquer genetically inherited procrastination... I am now based in Brazil, where I live with my wife and two chins.

Thursday, 17 January 2008

INTERNET PAWN

As we are all well aware, the Internet is stacked high with pornography - you simply can’t avoid it, no matter how hard you try. Who hasn’t been startled by images of a mustachioed Dane being attended to by a young extrovert sporting only undergarments and a shaggy perm after inadvertently appending an “n” instead of a “t” on the end a Google search for “vintage port”? How many of us have been confronted by a hangarful of large-chested exhibitionists during research into “large mistakes”, due to our mistaken employment of the ambiguous search term “big boobs”? Erotica is big business, but there’s also a lot of free stuff around if you put in the hours looking for it. Apparently.

Another rapidly growing area is that of the Internet Sage. In common with the filthmongers, they are in the business of selling fantasies. I often wonder if my blog would be rewarding me financially if visitors were greeted by a picture of me looking wise next to a tree or something, my visionary gaze clapped firmly on infinity - perhaps under the subtitle “Reformatting the hard drive of your soul”, or “Experiments in lifestyle plumbing.” I might even manage to swing a book deal to publicise my tatty philosophising – “Finding a Life Home – From Bungalow to Penthouse in Three Easy Yoga Positions”. Then I would join the merry band of Internet authorities who write little articles on “How to Give Up Giving Up”, “10 Mistakes That Lead Winners to Lose”, and other such froth. Often these authorities quote each other, thus creating a self-propagating, self-aggrandising clique.

Before I am accused of being anti the self-help genre, I must confess that when I was younger I showed a total lack of interest in these kinds of works, perhaps the result of a pioneering independent spirit, arrogance, or stupidity. After a time, I overcame this prejudice and read some publications avidly, and actually found some of them very useful. There are some insightful and thought-provoking writers, normally those who have some kind of background in psychology or psychiatry, whose genuine motivation to help others shines through in their prose. The self-appointed Internet Shamans, however, are normally just very clever marketers, sometimes attracting millions of visitors to their shiny smorgasbord of insipid ruminations.

Having said that, I find myself visiting these blogs on a fairly regular basis – they do exert a certain morbid fascination. One favourite is Steve Pavlina’s entertaining “Million Dollar Experiment”, to which people have signed up in the belief that they will manifest incredible riches through intention alone (in the process finding some elbow room on The Secret bandwagon). The results make sobering reading, especially participant number 15, Silvino Henriques, who has apparently “manifested” the sum of $22.08 in just under eight months. If Silvino got a job, any job, he’d manifest more than that in a few hours. I could tell him that.

No wonder the most popular Internet search word is “sex”.



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Now playing: The Flaming Lips - She Don't Use Jelly
via FoxyTunes

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8 Comments:

Blogger No Good Boyo said...

A post that ought to up your readership count! A fiendish porn ploy I recall was one that let a slight typo in the name of a Disney kids' site (Bambi, or suchlike) take you to a world of hard-pumping, girl-on-girl action. Likely either to blight an innocent childhood or lead to renewed interest in Dutch language classes.

I've always scorned self-help books other than Nietzsche, Machiavelli and Sacher-Masoch, myself. Now I have Mrs Boyo to tell me what to do and what everything means, even if she does mix up Transylvanian hotels from time to time.

17 January 2008 at 11:54  
Blogger M C Ward said...

I note you did the online equivalent of the 100-yard dash to get over here... my plan is working, clearly.

I agree, spouses are the ideal purveyors of carefully crafted criticism, or so they think. I'm off to Sopot in Poland with my male voice choir in May. More soon.

17 January 2008 at 12:25  
Blogger No Good Boyo said...

Yup, I sensed scud.

I'm trying a similar technique by pissing off the notoriously epistolary Greeks. No effect so far. Snobs.

I fled Wales to escape male voice choirs, and here' someone who lives in a salsa-based country not only volunteering for one but actually planning to infect another country. Haven't the Poles suffered enough?

No is the answer, but you know what I mean.

18 January 2008 at 08:05  
Blogger M C Ward said...

Male voice choirs are an acquired taste, I must concur, but isn't emigration a little drastic? And just to be pedantic, salsa is what they play/dance to/eat in the Spanish speaking world, in these parts it's samba, due to the country's former expertise in the slave trade.

18 January 2008 at 13:24  
Blogger No Good Boyo said...

Nothing pedantic about it, sir, wars have been fought over less. I associated samba with Cuba, but realize it ought to be rumba.

On reflection I needn't have fled, but as a dashing young pianist I felt the Cor Godre'r Aran press-gang was onto me.

Been looking through referrals to my site, and found a recent Google search for "privat ponny hardcore Porno". From Germany, naturally. Not sure how he got to me via that, but he didn't tarry long.

18 January 2008 at 15:19  
Blogger M C Ward said...

Now I understand - being a male voice choir accompanist can delay the onset of courting by decades. Nice referral - they are relentlessly intriguing, my own personal favourite remains the visitor interested in finding a "drenched pair".

18 January 2008 at 16:26  
Blogger No Good Boyo said...

"Drenched pair". The sad fact is that (secondhand) knowledge of Intern Net Porn allows me a decent guess that your visitor was an afficionado of bukkake. A word I bet Al Gore had never dreamed off when he invented the Web.

21 January 2008 at 22:37  
Blogger Grouch said...

Does anyone know if recycling vintage port..sorry vintage porn is lucrative?

26 May 2008 at 18:06  

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