I was at WalMart the other day, getting school supplies for my kids. As I walked through the store, I saw the above endcap display. It was just too good to pass up: I had to snap a pic.
Honestly, my first thought was: “How wrong is that?” Putting that “mommy porn” under a sign advertising the Wimpy Kid series? Did an employee, or a customer, do it? Clearly it was someone with a sick sense of humor. And not a little touch of irony.
Irony is alive and well at WalMart people. Who would have thought?
On the one hand, it’s very much not “kid’s stuff.” Letting one’s kids read the 50 Shades series is akin to letting them watch porn.
And who would do that?
On the other hand, I think the sign is a very apt description of the content of the the 50 Shades series: kid’s stuff. Puerile.
What do I mean?
The late C.S. Lewis once said “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
“We are far too easily pleased.” How true is that? Lest you think I jest at wounds that have never felt scars, I’m just as guilty:
I have been there, in that place, where all that I could touch, taste, see was more tangible, more real than the “infinite joy” God offers. So I understand the appeal of this so-called “mommy porn.” It seems to offer an escape, a release, from quotidian drudgery, but in reality is nothing more than a mud pie.
Don’t get me wrong–sex is great, and pleasure wonderful, but they are so much nothing in light of eternity. And 50 Shades–with its depictions of sex–is not sex, but a pale substitute.
Can reading erotica truly fill the void of perceived unfullfillment? Not any more than looking at Playboy can.
Sex was never designed to be a spectator sport.
What do you think? Have you read the 50 Shades books?