Saving You Hours and Hours Throughout the Lifetime
April 20, 2006
The Internet has long been a place where the “You Must Be This Sane To Ride This Ride” sign is a mere ha’-proton above the floor. Only fools are forgiven for being shocked anymore that someone tetched enough to have a hankering deep inside for some good old-fashioned Photoshop conjoined porn has the Webwithal to actually quiet the shrieking voices inside his head or at least organize them into a tuneful choir long enough to register a domain, buy a hosting plan, BitTorrent Dreamweaver and throw his slab up on the counter alongside Amazon, eBay, and Taquitos. (Best. Use of bandwidth. Ever.)
Planet Shavegeek has its fair share of awe-inspiring depthplum, what with the door-to-door urinal cake salesmen from Modesto posing as landed gentry on the chat boards, but for the most part, the online wetshaving corn-munity is the same stupefyingly boring cookie cutter male hobbyist black hole of slo-mo entropy as any Ham radio chat room, audiophile usenet group, or Chrysler P.T. Cruiser “Krewzerz Korner” — it couldn’t be more typical of a genre that already had a fork in it back when Compuserve at 2400-baud was the shit.
But then there are those giants who suddenly appear, their genius fully-formed, to breathe new life into the shavegeek rock opera. Towering futuremen with eyes lit as from behind like Rasputin’s, who spelunk vast, uncharted caverns the rest of us can’t even see. King Gillette was one such dreamer, as were the Brothers Kampfe before him. And then, for a hundred years, the giants stopped coming.
But lo, it may be time to dust off the mantle and make room for a new face on Mt. Shavemore! Gentlemen, I give you Vivek Baptiwale.