This past month I published an article in the Michigan Journal of Theoretical Computer Science entitled, “The Myth of the Porno Virus,” the principal contention of which was that there does not exist—nor has there ever existed—a computer virus that populates a victim’s hard drive with sexually explicit images and videos. Further, I argued that in virtually all instances in which such a virus has been suspected, it was merely some dude trying to hide the fact that he’s a porn hound from his girlfriend or whatever.
Since the publication of this article, however, I have become aware of additional research that effectively contradicts my earlier findings. Some of this research was communicated to me by a number of concerned researchers through letters and e-mails, while in other cases the research was whispered angrily over the phone late at night. Someone even threw some research through the windshield of my car while I was in Pathmark.
In light of this new evidence, I have no choice, evidently, but to rescind my previous claims. There is definitely, for absolute sure, a virus that puts pornography on your computer. It is a real thing that actually exists. And for my prior error in scientific judgment, I throw myself upon the mercy of the research community, as it were.
A great deal is already known about how the virus works. In almost all cases, it is downloaded onto a victim’s computer from a trojan website such as 1800flowers.com or zales.com. Upon initialization, the virus begins aggregating pornography from the Web—either at random, or else in an algorithmic pattern based on sexual proclivities diametrically opposed to the victim’s—and deposits it in a not-especially-well-hidden folder somewhere on the victim’s machine. The virus also floods the victim’s browser histories with compromising records, sometimes in a fashion that coincidentally correlates with times the victim was necessarily alone in the apartment.
Early data indicate that this virus is responsible for as much as 98 percent of all apparent consumption of online pornography. No one really looks at that stuff. The virus has even been linked to similar malware programs, such as one that causes a victim’s computer to compulsively check his ex-girlfriend’s Facebook page, as well as this one that generates e-mails (again, by some algorithm or something) that make it seem as if the victim were cheating on you with Christine.
Fortunately, the virus can be neutralized simply by deleting the offensive material from the hard drive in question and never speaking about it again. And while there are no effective measures or anti-virus software packages capable of preventing it from striking again, any repeated contamination should only be construed as further proof of the virus’s existence.
In the end, we can only speculate about the forces that lead to the creation of this virus. Perhaps it was designed by the porn industry itself to generate artificial demand for its unpopular products, or else as part of a campaign to break up otherwise rock-solid couples in order that the heartbroken parties would look for solace in the cold, cold embrace of commodified sex. We may never know. Although I, personally, would accept any halfway-plausible explanation someone offered.
I’d only like to stress, by way of a conclusion, that we must remain vigilant. Again, this virus is 100 percent not made-up, and every time someone questions its existence it only grows incrementally stronger. We may allow ourselves to be disgusted by it—or even to hate it with the whole of our collective sense of human decency—but its reality must be doubted by no one. Especially the wives of the two researchers waiting for me out in the parking lot.