By Jupiter


Don’t you feel sorry for the poor fellows suffering from impractical fetishes?  No?  Well, you’re an unfeeling bastard.  Or maybe you just haven’t really thought it through.

Consider the unfortunate case of the middle-aged gentleman we shall can Juno.  His is a very strange attraction.  Not illegal.  Immoral?  Hard to say.  Just painfully, hopelessly obscure.

Like most fetishes, it presumably went back to some experience during his very early, formative years.  Perhaps his parents put a Solar System mobile above his cot.  They wanted to educate him, you see.  No SpongeBob SquarePants or blue plastic ducks for this little fellow.  Juno would have the jump on his intellectually deprived peers before he could even burp.

He looked up at the gently spinning planets in his brief moments of wakefulness.  He sometimes fretted at this time.  By pure chance he experienced a chaffing that caused his first experience of arousal.  He was looking up at a large, purple planet at the same time.  For this stupid reason a deep, inerasable neural pathway was established.  It lay dormant for years, occasionally surfacing in the form of a childhood obsession with space exploration and science fiction.  Finally, in the confusion and tumult of his teenage years, Juno admitted to himself that he had a strange sexual fetish, and that nothing else would satisfy him.

Juno wanted to fuck Jupiter.

In past ages Juno would have had to put this attraction aside and gotten on with his unhappy, troubled life.  He would have married and forced himself to have children.  He would have attended church on Sunday.  And if his wife ever wondered why he spent long hours in the frosty backyard peering into his telescope instead of snuggled inside with her, she would never have guessed the absurd, unthinkable truth.  Our Juno would have passed away without ever breathing a word to anyone about his essential inclination.

Ah, but today is different.  The modern Juno immediately jumps online and searches all of the most bizarre, random thoughts that he might have.  He finds others with similar leanings. They create support groups.  They start forums, FAQ pages, perhaps a volunteer hotline or a lobbying wing.  They create a cute name for themselves (readers, I need your help here.  My imagination fails me).

But the one thing they cannot do is fuck Jupiter.  Contemporary research reveals that this is impossible for a number of reasons.  Among them, Jupiter is far away.  No human has ever been near it.  Its immense density means that its radiation would penetrate (haw haw) any shield and tear one’s DNA to shreds.  Its enormous gravity would crush a person.  Even if a heretofore unimagined space suit were invented that could overcome all these problems, Juno would still need to get his dick out of the thing in order to perform the deed.  Finally, even if this last hurdle could be cleared, how would he fuck the thing?  Jupiter is a gas giant.  It would be hard to even say where it starts.  Oh and we haven’t even mentioned the freezing cold.  What a nightmare.

So the next time you pine over the fact that girls only want threesomes with two guys or fret about never being able to root a big-titted, baby-faced anime girl, spare a thought for poor old Juno.

VR might partially solve the problem.  Hooray.


Further reading:  Why Clever People are Stupid

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