Five Hundred Years of Porn in One Sentence

Once upon a time in a land so dark like in tragic fairy tales, there were swords and daggers; and the story of the people continues unhappily ever after; with them the swords and daggers, them called the thangjou and thangsaang that were hidden in the backyard and replaced — as the impotent kings and their bastards ushered in the qortal musical instrument from faraway places, them called the hand-held clapper; as the display of courage with the swords and daggers was replaced with the exhibition of over-sized genitals, with lovesick rhythm of clacking and clattering clapper; singing the paean for horny gods and slutty goddesses; not one but all was lost in mass orgy, as in the knights in shining armour galloping for their ladies giving way to the addicts waiting for the last shots and the prostitutes waiting for their last customers — and today, the story is stuck in a heroin- and condom-infested land, located close to the Tamu red light area in Burma; oh! It’s a tragedy; the story of the people can be narrated not — nor in a sequence it goes, but cluttered and confused, it has been wrapped in a time warp.