‘National Review’ Discovers Condoms In NYC, Solves Contraception

What an adventure did a random National Review Editorial Associate get himself into! Gather ’round, ye hobos, and hear his tale of daring… subterfuge… and rubber procurement! (Drop acid now.) It all began when a dazed but persistent carrier pigeon alighted upon the curlicued fountain pen of our Editorial Associate, to finally vomit forth the message it had accidentally swallowed in 1971, during the John V. Lindsay administration, if you young bloods can remember that far back in New York City history. Upon unfolding the still damp note, the Associate was immediately and providentially hepped to the existence of an important and scary thing that had, quick reminder, BEEN OPERATIONAL FOR 40 YEARS ALREADY: a free condom campaign deviously underwritten by the City of New York’s sexed-up bureaucrats. Swift corrective action was clearly needed, STAT!

You see, the news of late had been overflowing with one lusty lady succubus after another complaining, in a manner most unbecoming, of the Expense of Oral Contraception. And so, armed only with the bird’s vomitus, an orange plastic jack-o’-lantern, his own manful sense of indignation, and intentions as lucid as his logic, our intrepid Editorial Associate thought to set these querulous dames straight, by demonstrating the ease with which even a peevish layabout could traipse about a supermetropolis and gather a completely different Form of Contraception! Is it all making sense now? It shouldn’t!

Were one to have listened uncritically to the more hysterical elements in America’s news media over the past month, one would have concluded that contraception is intractably hard to come by in the United States; but a cursory glance at the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene’s well-appointed website gives quite the opposite impression. There, contrarily, visitors are informed that anyone in need of contraception is somewhat spoiled for choice.

If the website’s extensive online search facility does not meet with their approval, habitués can instead call 311 and ask for advice directly. And the more tech savvy — or, perhaps, desperately mobile — can download the free “NYC Condom” app to their Windows, iPhone, BlackBerry, or Android smartphones and have its GPS service direct them to the nearest provider of free contraception with devastating accuracy.

(Your Wonkette can only hope that you, dear reader, never suffer such municipal efficiency!)

Anyway, et cetera, et cetera, our NR Editorial Associate mintzed all over Gotham, easily filling his jack-o’-lantern to “bulging” with publicly-funded latex dick sheaths but failing to raise any of the eyebrows he had so very much hoped to raise. Conclusion:

Considering these five locations, the 304 others in Manhattan, and the considerable other — private and charitable — alternatives, condoms seem to be pretty much covered.

Truth be told, the 1970s found our Associate’s groundbreaking research on Condom Dispensaries a bit dated. But pray tell, what had he learned of the Non-Barrier Devices of Contraception, about which the lady succubi of his own 2012 were actually concerned? You know, the sort with the Non-Terrifying Typical-Use Failure Rate?

[Sexual?] Congress can rest easy; given the heavy involvement of bars and nightclubs, there are very few hours in the day during which one cannot acquire free contraception in New York City, and organizations such as Planned Parenthood and the Children’s Aid Society ensure that more permanent forms are covered, too. Meanwhile, those who are employed and whose insurance plans do not cover contraceptives can walk into a CVS and pay out of their own pockets.

The End! And what an elegant moral our Associate’s tale has: that three organizations in one city in America, or even simply one’s own (employment-fattened) pocket can just magically make contraceptives (of all sorts!) appear. Could it all really be so elementary? Come on, guess! Okay, now to reveal the answer, rip off every letter except for “N” and “O” on your keyboard, then read across, left to right…. Did you get it? [National Review]