If you had to decide who comes out with more undiluted shit, politicians, marketers or journalists, you’d have a tricky time, believe me.
On the plane back to London, at a loss for what to read, I turned to the list of stuff to buy. Next to a picture of some sunglasses I read that their manufacturer “Stockholm-based Vasuma is a fashion-driven, music-inspired lifestyle brand for intellectual youth.”
My God, what kind of talent does it take to cram so much pure, undiluted drivel into so few words? What was the writer smoking, snorting, injecting or drinking to come up with such a wondrously succinct assembly of clichés?
Then on the bus (quicker than the train) from Heathrow to Bristol I came across a feature in the Evening Standard by Lucy Hoggard which put the sunglass copywriter in the shade, as it were.
It was about vaginas. It seems a group of feminist artists in Shoreditch (where else?) is busy creating a giant tribute to pussy in the form of a “beautifully skilled artwork” – a quilt bedecked with hand-sewn vaginas.
Lucy, bless her, says this is “a clear reference to the Seventies feminist practice of holding vagina parties during which women were encouraged to acquaint themselves with their vulvas using hand mirrors.” Hadn’t they noticed them before?
It seems women are reclaiming their vaginas. Which evil bastard stole them, I wondered. And words nigh on failed me when I read all about “the new frankness about vaginas” – but I really shut the fuck up when I read that the vagina is “a neglected area of the body.”
Well, you could have fooled me. For roughly 62 years of the time available to me so far I have spent the greater part of my days and nights thinking and doing very little other than focusing on that very item, embroidered or not.
Had I spent even a tenth of that time chasing money, God, how absurdly rich I would be now. But not as happy.
And by the way, how the hell has the human race continued to multiply with all this vagina neglecting that’s been going on?
Having met you in person makes this post that much funnier. Priceless.
“Splendid and brilliant commentary from a hugely perceptive man.” Even given the sexual schizophrenia so rampant in America, I've never really understood all this fuss about getting acquainted with one's female bits. (I confess, I found “The Vagina Monologues” somewhat tedious)
Still, since so few people seem to be clueless about the organ between their ears, I guess it's hardly surprising that they would be unacquainted with the organ between their legs.
I commend you for your lifelong commitment to the cause.
I think these people would be better working in the fertiliser business. After all the have an endless supply of shit.