I’m writing about this to hopefully get it off my chest – I’m beginning to loose faith in ever finding one of my white whales. For those unfamiliar, a white whale is the concept of a highly sought after item that has long been out of reach of a person. The prototypical example being Ahab and Moby Dick, the namesake of the white whale. The operative concept being the desire for this item growing over time as it remains continuously out of reach.
Now, there’s a huge spectrum of white whales, and different categories. On the extreme end, it can be something akin to a person with a missing family member who’s held out hope for years, or decades, of reuniting with this person. On the opposite spectrum, you have more trivial things like foods or brands that remind people of their childhoods or of home. There was even a story on NPR about a guy who wanted to recreate a childhood brand of cookies that was very similar to an Oreo.
As for categories, this is a variation of the spectrum: like I said, food stuffs is a popular white whale category. The taste of home is a big one you see a lot in media. Think of the ending of Ratatouille. Another big one today is the internet. With the tremendously short-lived half life of web sites and internet links today, internet white whales abound. Due to the inherent instability and cost of web servers in the long run, it’s unlikely that any particular web site or piece of content will be accessible even a decade from now, unless that content makes someone money. Also, because of the constant information overload of new content being produced on daily basis, older data becomes harder to find as well. It becomes harder to find things as they age on the internet – that’s essentially a fact. Take a look at torrent sites – the number of sharers goes down proportionally to the age of the link. With these factors, it’s likely that most people browsing the web for extended periods of time probably have a few internet white whales of their own.
Which leads to my main point: my own internet white whale. Years ago, I viewed a pornographic video of a farmer or rancher’s daughter having mutual intercourse with her father’s employees, a group of farm hands. It was an interracial video, a mix of black and white farmhands. From what I recall, it was dated even when I watched it, quite possibly a retro porn video from the 90’s. While I didn’t think too much of the video at the time, I confess, it’s stayed in the back of my mind for quite a while now. I’ve spent more than a few hours fruitlessly searching on many a porn site. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to locate the video since.
One element that made it so memorable to me was the sense of single minded belonging in the group, all in the mutual goal of fucking this girl senseless. What crystallized as a white whale for me was the following moment: at one point in the video, two of the guys are changing positions – a white cowboy swaps out black cowboy can penetrate her. As they’re swapping, the white man utters: “Git ‘er, black snek”. The sense of camaraderie and cooperation emanating from this video astounded me. I could visualize the verisimilitude of the scenario: this is a group of coworkers who mesh so well together, that for them, they truly don’t see color. Not that it isn’t there – as the farmhand acknowledges his peer’s blackness – it’s that it’s nothing more than the color of the man’s skin. They had such a tight knit bond that they felt comfortable being naked and having an orgy together. It wasn’t as if it was something done in silent embarrassment, either – it was an environment where the group was in such harmony with their egos that this man could feel comfortable encouraging his coworker to fuck the shit out of this girl with all sincerity.
I feel as time has gone by, I’ve probably begun viewing this memory with rose tinted glasses. Unfortunately, as I’ve never encountered the video again, I’ll never know how close to reality my imagination captured the situation. Such is the case with all white whales, I suppose.