For financially independent adults, these channels were inconvenient. For teens, the temptation of having porn so close yet so scrambled away was torture. Sick of having to stare at a poster of Jason Priestly or a picture of a topless lady from their mom’s breast cancer awareness edition of Vogue, kids would spend long nights staring at warped pay-per-view porn, which newspapers warned parents still “occasionally picked up erotic sounds and images.” There, in the bright darkness of their living room, they waited for that magic moment when the chaotic waves would randomly align and show a two-second clear image of a boob. Or was that a butt? Or some dude’s bicep? Playground talk would swell with legends of kids having found a way into the pornoverse, either by figuring out the rituals to unlock the parental Pandora’s box or discovering that a secret channel would unscramble for one hour when the moon was high and the gods would rest.
So, Sunday at midnight.
Fortunately for fiscally fraught freaks, there was a cheap way to gain access to all the terrible VHS porn acting their hearts could desire. Analog paywalls had also spawned analog pirates who had raised their grainy flag back in the days of black-and-white. This started with ‘hackers’ mailing out IBM-era punch cards to slot into the cable box and overwhelm it with its mighty 64 bytes (new code had to be sent every month, making it the first annoyingly subscription-based VPN service) and led to complex, custom made descrambler-descramblers. Of course, if you were truly despicable and desperate, you could instead try to steal their neighbors’ cable. But this often required a very dangerous, very illegal, and occasionally lethal climb up an electricity pole to manually tap in your own cable and siphon off their endless stream of unscrambled sex.
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