Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Gender politics


The dismissal of Dr “Beetroot” Msimang has been greeted with much rejoicing in South Africa, but I can’t help feeling sorry for the woman. The former health minister was demoted to presidential masseuse after failing to shake off the ignominy of claiming that garlic was a cure for AIDS. She must have confused the disease with vampires, who also infect the blood of their victims. Let us hope that she follows the example of Mr Profumo in gradually restoring her good name by eating humble pie and working for charitable causes. Probably best to stay clear of AIDS charities though.

Looking at things with a gorilla’s impartial eye, I wonder about the wisdom of having female ministers of state. A woman won’t shine in politics if she has to pussyfoot around with parliaments and cabinets, explaining her actions to men who treat her like a walking petticoat. She really needs to be a queen, preferably with life-and-death powers over her subjects. The good thing about female tyrants is that they are relatively moderate and won’t initiate gruesome purges just to remind everyone who the daddy is. The only exception I can think of is Mary Tudor, who burned a lot of people for no good reason after taking a Spaniard into her bed. Some experiences will bring out the pyromaniac in any woman. But by and large, you’ve got to do something pretty horrendous for a queen to cook your goose. The Queen of Hearts was funny only because she was so atypical.

Opinions differ on what the best sort of queen is. The neo-classicists favour a scheming temptress like Cleopatra, who bends powerful men to her will by wantonly feeding their bedroom fetishes. The neo-barbarians prefer the fearless virago, who rides into battle in an armour-plated brassiere and can throttle a man between her muscular thighs. As a dutiful son of the Mother Continent, I endorse the semi-mythical African queens so vividly described by Ms Kola Boof. These Nubian sovereigns were bisexual necromancers who wore no clothes and could summon forest demigods for Earthly congress. It is said that they brought their female votaries to ecstasy by licking the tips of their noses. It is a salutary lesson for modern humans that naked women were once revered for the majesty of their souls.

Politics, nevertheless, is not the ideal career for well-bred women. Dr Whipsnade’s friend, Lady Chuffington, is fretting about the prospects of her eldest daughter, currently enrolled in a Cultural Studies programme at the University of East London. The girl apparently dresses in the “Gothic” style and intends to spend the next summer vacation making a film about “Inkubus Sukkubus”, a musical ensemble venerated by her cult. In her desperation, Her Ladyship has asked me to counsel the wayward chit.

“Perhaps you might speak to her, Mr Bananas,” she said on the phone last week. “Tell her that there is nothing clever (or “cool” as they say) about dressing like a drag performer’s widow on the day of his funeral.”

“Lady Chuffington,” I replied, “rather than criticising her current fashion sense, I would prefer to induce a change in her behaviour by citing positive alternatives.”

“Well do as you wish!” she replied rather testily. “I am concerned with the outcome rather than the stratagem used to bring it about.”

I have since studied some pictures of these Gothic women and frankly I’ve seen a lot worse. Their “Brides of Dracula” look gives them the appearance of devilishly sensual creatures who might even tempt a hard-bitten male gorilla to become a little harder and more bitten. Yet I’ve made a promise to Lady Chuffington and I’m not the sort to ape to go back on his word. I shall talk to her daughter – but I’m damned if I know what I’ll say to her.

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Comments:
GB, you thoughtful observations invariable wake me up. Do you have insights to how Boudica, Joan of Arc or Catherine Di Medici are explained within the discourse of pussyfooting around?
 
...and Countess Bathory, Boudica and Anne Widdecombe.
 
You do like playing Devil's advocate Mr Bananas! Deary me, you need your balls nibbling . . .
Sx
 
As to the goth girl dilemma, perhaps you could say that in an age where young girls seem to be intent on leaving all their stray bits and underwear flapping about in the elements it's nice to see one dressing respectably.
 
:: Wendy ::,

This is Coligny that it was necessary to distrust! Catherine of Slandered was not able to prevent the slaughter of the Holy barthélemy!
When to the Pucelle of Orléans ;
[ JEANNE: Vous pourriez me demander telle chose sur laquelle je vous répondrai la vérité et, de telle autre, je ne la répondrai pas. Si vous étiez bien informés de moi, vous devriez vouloir que je fusse hors de vos mains. Je n’ai rien fait que par révélation.]
JOAN: You could ask me such thing on which I will reply you the truth and, of such other, I will not reply it. If you had well informed of me, you should want that I was outside your hands. I did not do anything that by revelation.

Monsieur Gorilla ,

Which Queen of heart? The Queen of the troubadours, the furious, Aliénor that withdraws itself to Poitiers in his dukedom of France, when his
royal spouse takes as mistress the beautiful Rosamonde!??

When to Mary Tudor said Mary the Bloody one, (more than 300 Protestants perisies on to work it without garlic!) that undertook a campaign against the France in 1557 of Wedged, last bastion of the conquests of the war of Hundred Years and lost in 1558 finished to tarnish his prestige...

If all the women are queens! All the queens are not...good to take with tweezers!!
 
GB - A difficult one to ponder. Perhaps the young goth lady could be persuaded to chnage her attire on the grounds of health and safety. Those full flowing dressers stand a great chance of catching in fires or even a passing bendy bus. Far safer to wear small black leather undergarments thus reducing such risks.
However I must accept that with the British climate as it is, she would probably end up with a lot of chaps between the thighs.
 
maybe she needs a touch more eyeliner....
 
Someone was telling me last week about the Rani of Jhansi, who led a mutiny against the British. This lady really had a pair - she took a stray bullet, climbed her own funeral pyre and called for people to light it.

Brave? Yes. Impressive? Yes. Bloody frightening? Yes!

J x
 
A queen? Life-and-death powers? Scheming temptress? Add “promiscuously bi-sexual” and you have my ex-wife.
 
Wendy: They were minor players in the pussyfooting league. Lucretia Borgia is the one who led the way.

Kevin: I can't see what that trio have in common apart from their sex. Boudica was the only queen among them although Miss Widdecombe was probably best in bed.

Scarlet: Be my guest, Miss Scarlet, you'll get a mouthful of fur for your trouble!

Kevin again: "Respectably" is going too far. I would describe them as "decently frocked".

Crabtree: Not everything is about France, my dear fellow. I meant the Queen of Hearts who said "Off with your head!" But thank you for your enlightening us on these important matters.

Uncle Norman: Interesting idea. Perhaps I'll invite her to the Congo so we can sort out her wardrobe once and for all. The tropical climate should bring some colour to her cheeks as well.

Nursemyra: Any more eye liner and she'll look like a raccoon.

Jade: I suppose the bullet was too deep for a surgeon to extract so she decided to cut to the finale. If only Mary Tudor had led by example by burning herself.

Saintly Nick: Your ex-wife was AC-DC? I bet she didn't let you watch, they never do.
 
It is going to take some work on your part GB but all you need to do is persuade Lady Chuffington to dress as a Goth, the daughter will be out of there in seconds.
If I recall my Flashman novels correctly there was a especially brutal queen in Madagascar in the 19th century.
Jobrag
 
Now she is 100% lesbian.
 
From which my last sentence (Notices)
 
Hello, I like the blog.
It is very beautiful
Sorry not write more, but my English is bad writing.
A hug from Portugal
 
Okay I'll just nibble your nuts then. Am I the Cleopatra type? Cos I do have the odd fetish.
Sx
 
Tell her that if God had meant her to live life in black and white, she would have been born in the Thirties.

If she doesn't believe in God, tell her that heavy make-up is comodogenic.

If she is not prone to breakouts, tell her you're not sure if you're talking to the right Goth because of all the other "individuals" in the room.

(Actually, I was always quite fond of the Goths I knew.)
 
Jobrag: Lady Chuffington would be more likely to dress up as Charlie Chaplin. Flashman tended to exaggerate in his memoirs - perhaps he had a grudge against the Madagascan queen for refusing to sleep with him.

Saintly Nick: Isn't it about time she had a man for old time's sake?

Crabtree: You are a cryptic commenter, my friend.

Anastacio: Muito obrigado.

Scarlet: I'll feed you my nuts by hand, Miss Scarlet. You are the Cleopatra of South London and I look forward to hearing about your fetishes.

Sam: I may have more luck if I try to persuade her with flattery, Sam. I'm sure she's amiable enough under the make-up.
 
Personally, I often get Goths and mimes mixed up.

I find the only way to be absolutely certain of which is which is whether or not they cry out during intercourse.
 
I wonder if you have ever spotted Cherie Blair the wife of our beloved and much missed former PM? She looks like one of them to me...
 
I've always wanted to go to a dirty old motel room with a girl in "gothic" style...and even better with a British accent -- just like the one you wrote about. There's something weird and mysterious about goths. On second thought, what if I don't pleasure them...they'd probably hex me.

I don't know how much television you watch Mr. Bananas (I've heard gorillas love Rachael Ray), but there's this cool show on HBO right now called True Blood. Vampires. Scary.
 
i like to watch goths in summer as they try not to sweat. it takes them SO much energy.
 
Oohh i would sooo rock as a politician!!!! But i would be one of those who would set someone on fire or suffocate someone with my boobies just to show them who's boss!
 
One bit of advice you might want to share with Lady Chuffington's daughter is ...
"Please try not to pin yourself to others."

Oh wait ... did you say she's a goth ... or a punker? Nevermind.
 
Lord Likely: It must be disappointing to discover that the woman you are servicing is mute, m'lud.

Mutley: Mrs Blair has many fine qualities, but her mouth lacks the Gothic quality.

Secret Agent: Maybe the TV show will give you a few ideas for how to seduce a Goth chick. Wearing a black cape is probably the first step.

Kara: They probably like looking at you, all sweaty and red-faced. What do Goths do for Halloween?

Sabrina: Getting a face full of your boobies would be a great way to go. Would you prefer the man's head to stay still or wriggle about making blubbering noises?

Joe: I hope she'd know better than to pin herself to anyone. It sounds pretty uncomfortable to me.
 
Don't worry, I'm here now.
All of my children, during their teens and early twenties, dressed inappropriately. Was I embarrassed? No, I was not. It seemed entirely fitting for the offspring of a mother who, in 1976, walked the length and breadth of the A4 in a pair of hobble trousers, a PVC chemise and perspex stilettos. Was MY mother horrified? No. Like all women of sense, she knew that youth must be misspent in any way possible. My youngest daughter, currently the toast of the Thames Valley, has a high pony-tail, bosoms en valeur, Cleopatra eyeliner, highwaisted hotpants and a tiny trenchcoat. She looks like Portsmouth on Paynight until she speaks, and her beautiful patrician accent quells any worry. My youngest boy accessorises with patent leather winklepickers and a raccoon skin hat. This is the only time one can get away with it. There is nothing, but nothing, sadder than the sight of a wastrel attempting to capture his or her lost youth. Taxi for Mr Mutton burns on everyone's lips.
 
You have reason! I played it a personal strength ...

I explain "the enigmatic crabtree" I saw to the country of the Santons ,In Aquitaine! Country of the Queen of heart Aliénor of aquitaine, my wife therefore lives in Aquitaine she is consequently my queen (Not always good... to take with tweezers!)
But she is not Tyrannical !
 
Goodness Mr B - are there still goths around? I thought they died out in the late 80s. The girl will no doubt relish the company of a red blooded gorilla - all goth boys ever want to do is borrow your eyeliner.
 
Are they called Emos now?
Sx
 
Countess Bathory could be a role model for some - oh, she's very popular in these parts - though she may have been too extreme even for wannabe vampires! When you said Queen of Hearts I thought you were talking about Princess Di - now she'd have been good as a goth, it might have cheered her up a bit too.

Are you really from The Mother Continent, Mr B?
 
My own daughter got rather miffed when I equated Goth with Emo... but she is neither of those now - why stifle your expression with a label, said she...

Im with Mrs Pouncer. It's a phase and the more you complain about it, the longer it will last. And being young is all about being different and enjoying it. There are at least five decades of conforming ahead of them. The best thing is to bolster their self-esteem, reassure them of their beauty and your love and let them have some fun with their outfits :)

As to Queens, the most ineffectual ones were the ones who allowed their spouses to rule the roost. That's why the First Elizabeth was such a success.

As I recall Eleanor of Aquitaine divorced the King of France and got herself a toyboy in the form of our future Henry II before leading him a merry dance for their entire marriage.
 
Mrs Pouncer: Hello there Mrs Pouncer! Where would we be without your engaging family portraits? I am sure you offspring make up in enthusiasm for what they lack in street cred.

Crabtree: Ah, so you were speaking of Mrs Crabtree! I have no doubt she is the queen of your soul!

Kate: I believe they persist, Kate. The Goth girls look fine, but they might be a little too sulky for a light-hearted gorilla.

Scarlet: I don't know Miss Scarlet. Is that some kind of washing powder? I'll have to look it up.

Gadjo: It's a pity people associate Diana with The Queen of Hearts. She had no claim to the title and never ordered anyone to be beheaded, as far as I know. We primates are all from the Mother Continent.

Mrs Cake: Well one shouldn't generalise about queens: Queen Victoria was happiest when she let her more able husband take charge. I don't see why your daughter shouldn't dress as a Goth when she's 30 if she wants to.
 
Gadzooks, Mr Bananas, 'her more able husband'? I bet he didnt make all those decisions on his own!
 
Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

That being said, Cow is all in favor of all-powerful Queens ruling the universe.

They would be a welcome change, and could hardly do worse than current leaders.

Moo!
 
What about Thatcher with her pre-election war-mongering in the Falklands - a deft vote-securing strategy if ever I saw it?
 
All-powerful Queens ruling the universe? Elton John or Peter Mandelson?
 
The most useful thing you could do, GB, would be to find out Lord Chuffington's views and then pass them on to her ladyship as your own. Of course, if his lordship has no views, or has forgotten what they were, my advice ceases to have any value, and I apologize for troubling you with it.
 
quite so, but I can't spell look-creature borsh-shar so try to avoid it at all times, and clearly fail dismally every so often
 
Mrs Cake: Prince Albert was a brilliant man so there was no shame in being less able than him. I believe he gave his name to a sex aid.

Ms Cow: Best not Paris Hilton though.

Mosha: I've got a feeling the war had already been mongered and won before the election campaign.

Kevin: They'd make an attractive couple: the owl and the pussycat.

Inkspot: Lord Chuffington ran off to Thailand many years ago to found a finishing school for ladyboys. Her ladyship would sooner take advice from her horse. Or his horse, indeed.

Wendy: Creative spelling is a lost art, don't be afraid of experimenting.
 
She's a fucking fruitcake and she should have gone ages ago. For God's sake pull yourself together, Bananas.
 
Goth gals get the Boyo walrus of approval. These corsetted provincials are low maintenance (kohl and cider are available wholesale), save ££££s on lighting bills and are easily impressed by French poetry and tales of Carpathian travels.
 
Tell her not to go near Bacup in Lancashire. A young girl, similarly dressed was brutally murdered, because she dared to be different.
I was born and bred in that valley and am horrified that such a monstrous crime could have happened there. I think Bacup could be an apt case to study and discover what made it possible, in the last 50 years for such a crime to be committed. Who are these people - what sort of parentage did they have, what education? We could possible learn something.
 
Oh Mr Bananas, why don't you work upon Lady Chuffington? Use your persuasive powers to change her stance. There's something quite appealing about that last picture, and I'm straight.
 
Footy! How we have missed you.

Winklepickers! Yay! Drainpipes and winklepickers. I looked like Max Wall. Still do.
Mr Gorilla Bananas, the Mother Continent, surely the very best place for these so-called Gothics. Bit of fresh air and sun and a square meal, that's all they need. Maybe a bit of National Service an'all.
 
Foot Eater: That's no way to speak of Lady Chuffington, Foot Eater. Have you even met the woman to opine so trenchantly?

Mr Boyo: If they let you get away with buying them cider, they'll let you get away with anything.

Pi: Sadly no place is immune from evil.

Princess Stef: I'm glad you appreciate the picture, Princess. Lady Chuffington is probably uncharmable, but no one can stop a gorilla following his conscience.

Dr Maroon: My very thoughts, Dr, but she'd be very hot in that dress. I'd have to persuade her to slip into something cooler.
 
Pat, I suspect you haven't been back to Bacup in a long while. I believe The League of Gentlemen was based on somewhere round there.

GB, of course a Queen must be a tyrant. Otherwise nobody knows her name. I'll prove it: who's the Queen of Belgium? There you go, no-one apart from Brussels bloggers knows the answer. Women would make better bankers, they have caution in their DNA.
 
I agree that women make better bankers, milady. On the whole, they make better queens as well.
 
Mmm...prob wriggling about...i should get some pleasure too after all while i'm at it!
:p
 
You sound as if you need it badly, Saby!
 
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