Thursday, April 7, 2011

Why Call Them Privates?

        It seems to me that they aren't privates anymore: They are publics! Until I began writing this blog a few weeks ago, I had rarely made any use of Google images. I use the site quite a bit now to find interesting artwork to illustrate my posts. 
   I have been exposed during this short time to far more pictures of human genitalia than I have seen in the rest of my life put together. And I mean like ten times more! It wasn't fun!
   Searching for such topics as patriotism, fat women, wealth, turkey necks, young girls, Bart Simpson boxer shorts, weight training and other innocuous terms gave me page after page of very up-close-and-personal shots of males and females, usually doing nothing but displaying themselves and sometimes involved in various forms of sexual activity that looked pretty uncomfortable and pointless. Well, pointless and pointed at the same time, I guess. (I don't understand why the photos of children aren't being prosecuted. They are really sickening.) As for all those grownups:
   Some of them decorated their dear jewels with more jewels, or painted them, or stuck various objects into them or got out the Reddi-Whip and tried to make us hungry, but that did not work, people.
   The women showed their faces (ladies! why??), and most of them were grinning as they opened wide their Paths to Glory. They were unkempt, and so were their beds. There was a retarded quality to their exhibitionism -- they looked like they should be sucking their thumbs rather than thumbing their whatevers (I did a Google search for "genital" slang terms, but they are all so gross, I will just say 'whatever'). Very few of them had physiques that are normally associated with centerfolds, but I guess it's nice that they are comfortable with their bodies. They all seemed flagrantly foul to me.
   Most of the men had the good sense not to show their faces. They knew what was really important: That big thang, Love Gun, Jumbo McCockington -- flying high on a selfless mission to defend our freedom.That is what men are born to do -- defend our freedom -- even if it requires the ultimate sacrifice: dropping their trousers.
    By the way, is everybody shaving down there these days? How does that work? I saw an article in Esquire a few years ago which said that anyone who doesn't is "inconsiderate." I'm not all that considerate anyway, so I guess a few pubies won't have much impact on my quality of life.
    I have been trying to understand the impulse behind these grandiose displays. Who are these people? What is their problem? And does their spread-eagling help solve it? Should we try to help them in some way? What would Jesus do?
   Is there any other animal that does this, besides a couple of species of primates who stick their red asses into the air?
   Do people in other countries do it, or are we just particularly screwed up? Does seeing this stuff make others want to do it, or do they regard it as pathetic?
    When I got crashed into by a brand new Harley while jogging through a dark residential neighborhood many years ago, I flew through the air for what seemed like quite some time. I remembered to keep my knees together -- a bit of old-fashioned modesty, I guess.
    I'm not a prude, though, and I can enjoy the beauty of the human body as much as anyone. But why are people throwing their 'junk' in our faces?
   I don't think we're all that pretty down there. Maybe we should focus more on flowers, babies, red-rock formations or moody black-and-white shots of contemporary alienation.
   I highly recommend avoiding the castration photos. I was asking for it when I did that search, but I had no idea they were really going to be slicing their balls off.