Thursday, February 7, 2013

Behind the Big Japanese Cover-Up

If you want a good laugh these days it’s not necessary to watch “Comedy Central,” “FOX News” or even an interview with Ted Nugent.

All you need do is spend about 10 minutes on an internet news site.

Because it’s necessary to continually grab the viewer’s attention, and the average Y Generation slug – their target audience - has the attention span of a Bounty paper towel, these sites, whether they be AOL or MSN or Bing or Bong or whatever brain candy that passes for a news service in this day and age, find it necessary to change what they deem news about every 15 minutes.

Considering the dubious source, every once in a great while, believe it or not, there appears a link worth clicking on, for subjects like devastating volcanoes, new national legislation being pondered or the daily massacre by a firearm.

But the vast majority of the crapola that appears on these sites is just that, garbage that even a J.P. Mascaro truck would drive past. Things like the dating habits of reality-show skanks, the dating habits of royal skanks and the dating habits of any skanks deemed famous come immediately to mind. There are piles of cow dung in the middle of a 700-acre spread in Wyoming that are more worthy of interest than the latest celebrity “baby bump” and who’s boffing who and what the Kardashian family has to say about it.

Admittedly, it’s rare, but every so often you come across a nugget that makes the whole process worthwhile, one of those under the radar items that are not only entertaining, but funnier than a Republican Party primary debate.

For example, and even a jaded old coot like me wind up pissing my pants over this stuff, there is some patron of the arts who decided to spring for a replica statue of Michelangelo’s famous “David” statue and place it in a park in the burg of Okuizumo, Japan.

Now, for those of you who actually consider the reality-show skanks newsworthy, here’s a small history lesson – “David” is one of the world’s great pieces of art, and I mean actual art, not to be confused with the latest Quentin Tarantino movie. The problem, apparently, in the eyes of the folks in ol’ Okuizumo is that “David” is a sculpture of a naked man with his penis clearly and largely exposed.

 Now, to the shock of absolutely no one, the 15,000 residents of this tea leaf of a town are requesting, nay, demanding that Davey find himself some underwear – and quickly.

Yepper, the folks of Japan, who once insisted Godzilla be given an honorary Oscar and who happen to wake up in one of the world’s infamous hubs of trashy porn so hardcore it would make Jenna Jameson lose her luscious cookies, are insisting on finding a large pair of Fruit of the Looms to cover up one of the world’s great artistic treasures.

I’m telling you, boys and girls, you can fry your brain for hours and not make stuff like this up.

Here you are, blessed with the rare opportunity to see, albeit a replica of, one of the great works of art ever created, and your first inclination, the first chestnut of a thought in your mind, is to cover it up.

I guess these jugheads’ first reaction to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon would be to trim them, then to shear off the tops of the Pyramids for exceeding the town’s height ordinance, but not before  insisting on crocheting a suitable shawl to cover up the Mona Lisa’s cleavage.

It’s art, folks, not an artifact from the adult film classic, “Field of Wet Dreams.”

The reason given by these pillars of the community for dumping on a great piece of sculpture is that the subject of the statue has his genitalia exposed, and not only is that against the law in Japan, this heinous act is going to corrupt little Takahiro and Natsuki and all the other young ‘uns of Okuizumo.

Now, this is something that’s always baffled me about self-proclaimed, puritanical do-gooders, no matter what neck of the woods they insist on saving. I actually can understand being averse to the naked human form, if said form or forms are entwined in an act of passion. They may result in questions from five-year olds, who may not be mature enough to understand the answers.

But the solitary human form?

How, may I ask, can the same parts of the human anatomy that these precious little tykes see attached to themselves as they strip off their jammies every morning be considered unwatchable?

If they are, then does that mean that their own bodies are “dirty,” and not to be looked at?

And you wonder why there’s a skirt-grabbing pervert on every street corner?

Meanwhile, back in Okuizumo, there’s a mad search underway for oversized undergarments.

I wonder if anyone has thought of rummaging through Godzilla’s cedar chest.










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