Because You Never Asked

     (This essay is the first of a series including the titles "Tits and Ass", "Pornography Revisited" and "Feminism", all in that order. They were written in the early 90's and are related.)

     In one of the previous "Relevant Material" sections of this book, I quoted from a novel called "El Camino del Corazon" (The Road of the Heart), by Fernando Sanchez Drago. There is a moment in this book, in Bombay, where a kind of upper caste wise man or master known as a "pandit" is explaining to his surprised European listeners just why he graduated from Oxford in spite of his disdain for western education. He says, "in order to understand and spread your knowledge to your fellow man, one must go down to the infernos and let its flames brush one's body. It is impossible to defeat an enemy without first taking the time to know it profoundly."

     This is a policy I've followed for many years. In so doing, I'll spend prudently small amounts of time with such opiates as newspapers, People Magazine, Oprah, Geraldo, fleeting moments with pabulum like Murphy Brown and other assorted examples of cinema and pop "shtick". In a high tech culture such as ours, one can hardly avoid crossing paths with this mainstream world of subliminal "acculturation".

     The "pandit" is indeed wise; much can be learned from this reconnaissance of the . yes, it's true . "The Enemy".

     In one such foray to the flaming infernal depths, The Enemy revealed the fangs of its stinking, fetid breath in a particularly brutal roar of barbaric ignorance. Such brute ignorance left me stunned. It blew my mind!

     One evening I was watching a particularly bad excuse for a movie on TV. Sex and violence was the philosophy for cash register jingle, certainly not a surprising happening in today's buffet of cinema viewing. The movie in question had the audacity to show a bare female breast, but at these latitudes, such displays are deemed inappropriate by the guardians of our societal well being. As a result, each time the original cinema version made such revelations, the TV providers would use a technique that made the "offensive" anatomical parts a foggy, indecipherable, gelatinous mass.

     The dirty dogs!

     About two minutes after one of these gelatinous blockages, there was a particularly horrendous murder scene, certainly not a surprising happening in today's buffet of cinema viewing. The murder was carried out with something similar to a knitting needle, only much sharper. The victim is pinned face up on the ground and we are gruesomely close in on his face, including his neck. The needle-like object is stuck through his neck, our victim now looking like William Tell's son shit out of luck. For the moment there is no blood. There is only the face as it anxiously realizes it has become a piece of shish-ka-bob. But then .ah hah! . the face begins to gurgle and gag, to fight for breath as the blood begins seeping, bubbling and oozing from the various orifices found on the human head. (I suppose this is Hollywood's idea of what happens when one has a knitting needle stuck through your neck.) This goes on for 25 to 30 seconds, in all its "glory", until finally . he is dead.

     Cut!

     What can be said of a culture that goes to such lengths to keep us from seeing a female breast, and, at the same time, so meticulously concocts and provides us with the wretched, intellectually unnecessary violence just described? What is more pornographic; that forbidden fruit of female endowment or the blood smeared death throes of the above-mentioned victim?

     The keepers of our cultural morality legally define pornography as something "totally lacking in socially redeeming value". How is there more socially redeeming value in the horrifying murder scene than in the bare breast made inaccessible to our sight? Is there more socially redeeming value in the loutish behavior glorified and idolized by millions of kids (and kids in big bodies) at a pro wrestling show than there is at a burlesque show? Is this almost always-permissible violence less prejudicial to our society than the sexual urges we are so concerned in artificially muting? (For related chatter, see essay "Janet's Boob").

     I suggest the following: the sexual urge is a natural process that more or less regulates itself. The extremes of exaggerated chastity and unbridled libertine behavior are equally unhealthy with nature eventually finding the proper levels for such activities. Cultural dictates might have some effect on this, but, in the end, nature rules and people will get what they need.

     Violence is probably more environmentally influenced. Cultural do and don'ts, social mores, societal attitudes, even governmental watchdogging, might have more effect changing our attitudes towards violence than in changing our sexuality. This seems even more relevant in the modern world, where the logical violence caused by material shortage has almost become a non-factor. Perhaps the keepers of our cultural legacy should concentrate more on this problem than on our bedroom sports?

     Which brings me to . (see essay "Tits and Ass")