Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Dancing on the Rock

A French “exotic dancer” has been causing a stir in Australia. In a land where naked Sheilas are generally applauded, Alizee Sery has been winning hearts and loins all over the rugged continent. The miners and sheep-shearers were particularly impressed by the exhibition of her art. 

Unfortunately she hasn’t pleased everyone. The Aborigines were furious when she danced on Ayres Rock, which is a sacred monument in their ancient culture. They likened her performance to “defecating on the steps of the Vatican” and demanded her immediate repatriation. Chastened by their disapproval, Alizee was at pains to deny that she had shown any disrespect. 

“It was my tribute to their proud, naked way of living!” she protested.

I hope the Aborigines forgive her because of her nationality. French artists are often driven by grandiose conceptions which turn out, on closer examination, to be utter bollocks. Back in my circus days, I witnessed no end of silly pranks from giddy young women who were desperate to get my attention. But I bore it all stoically because they meant well. The female whose heart is in the right place should be treated indulgently. 

Indeed, Miss Sery is the precisely the kind of open-air artist we would love to see in Africa. Not far from where I live is a stupendous gorge above the Congo River called “Cassandra’s Crack”. It was named after the wife of Sir Arthur “Podgy” Podgkin, the Victorian explorer who tragically perished in the rapids below. If Alizee were to perform near the edge of The Crack, flinging her garments into the yawning fissure, it would certainly be celebrated as a pious deed of remembrance. The exotic dancer is revered in our part of the world. 

A tourist once asked me if we gorillas had any holy places that were strictly off limits to humans on pain of having their nipples tweaked.

“No,” I said. “Holiness is a state of mind for us gorillas. The surface of the Earth is profane by its very nature, watered by piss and seasoned with dung. We apes conduct our sacred meditations while hanging upside down from a sturdy branch. Don’t try it yourself unless you’ve got a powerful toe grip.” 

I’m not trying to belittle Aboriginal beliefs, of course. Unlike apes, humans are sentimental creatures who get emotionally attached to the landscape they inhabit. The circus I belonged to once rented a venue which was a field with a great big bush in it. When we suggested pruning the wretched thing, the owner had a fit. 

“Leave my bush alone!” he bleated. “My cat hides there when she’s feeling shy.” 

So the bush stayed in the field, occupying valuable space we could have used for other purposes. As for the man’s cat, he was right about her being shy, because we noticed her watching us timidly from inside the bush. So did Catkins, our resident Tom, and by the end of our tenancy he’d done his duty and given her a litter of kittens. We didn’t ask the landlord for a rebate. 

This story clearly has a moral, but I’m not going to spell it out for you.

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So the moral of the story is not to take your wife exploring?
The moral of the story is not to jump kitty cats?
Honestly... I know I should comment something witty here, but I can't bring myself to do so. You see, I can fully understand the Aborigines. Ayers Rock is one of their Holy Places. And they do have a different perception of the world surrounding them. And that should be respected, especially since they actually are the original (hence the name!) population of Australia. I know I am boring, but there it is. :)
The picture is of the wrong Alizee.
And the problem with defecating on the steps of the Vatican is what exactly...?
Well I mean she wasn't topless on the sacrate stone...I could have totally forgiven her...but she needs to have bigger boobage..I'm just saying...
Didn't know the Australians were so uptight.
BTW, how did you get that photo of me?
I fully appreciate the moral of this story, GB, but I don't need to boast about it.
Kyknoord: You are making the assumption that Sir Arthur fell in the gorge because of his wife, which is not necessarily true.

Ms Wannabe: You're not making use of all the data, ma'am. What about the bush?

RA: That's a good point and a worthy sentiment, but I can't help wondering whether the Aborigines of 500 years ago would have been offended in the same way.

Kamikaze: Thanks for pointing that out - I have changed it!

Robert: People might step on it and get squishy poo on their shoes. Don't tell me it's never happened to you.

JTILIS: That's very generous of you, ma'am. I believe some men prefer boobage of her nymph-like dimensions.

Robyn: I collect photos of you, Robyn, in a totally respectful and non stalker-like way. And I admire your ability to appreciate a moral without boasting about it. If you boast about it, it's value is lost.
Where can I get one of the kittens resulting from that coupling? Those two cats have such beautiful markings
France is full of women like this, just itching to take off their clothes or do the can-can or whatever.

It can get a bit wearing.

Well, slightly sore, certainly.

I suppose that is why this young lady had to go somewhere where her activity might have some novelty value.

You're right about the French "artiste" mentality. Just look at that buffoon who does all the mime.
The moral of the story perhaps is 'never let your beloved go walkabout because one never knows what may happen in the bush'?

I hope the Aborigenes forgive the French lady too. She surely didn't know it was a Holy place. There must be more appropriate places to dance nekkid in Australia, don't you think?
One man's bush is another man's treasure.

Don't ask me what I mean.
I talk nonsense...
The aborigines need to chill out. This girl is obviously bright and passionate about being slutty, and in this day and age, you have to respect that kind of dedication.
The look on that cat's face is pure and utter terror. Pure and utter terror.
Nursemyra:I'm glad you like cats, Nursie. You have quite a feline figure.

Jon: As Antoine de Caunes said, naked women will never go out of fashion. I have to admire how the French find new ways of giving it cultural significance.

Leni: That is certainly a possible moral, Leni, and I'm glad
you mentioned the bush, which is of similar importance to the one in Exodus. As for dancing nekkid in Australia, the Sydney Harbour Bridge might be a good location.

Dutch: Full marks for mentioning the bush, Ms Donut, but what about the pussy?

Ms Vodka: I think you should have a shower with her. You might find you have a lot in common.

Mark: I would say it's just unpleasantly surprised. Who wouldn't be in that position?
We Welsh worship Catherine Zeta Jones. Any fit French tart who wants to dance naked on top of her would be cordially welcomed in every valley.
Morals. Morals. Hmm.

We should all move to France?

Bushes make babies?

If you're going to dance naked on a rock, make sure you do it behind a bush?

In this case, I think the moral may be subjective.
I often felt the urge to dance on Arthur's Seat when I was in Edinburgh. It may have been the nippy Edinburgh air, or the unaccustomed sight of rugby players, but I was quite the giddy lady.
"French artists are often driven by grandiose conceptions which turn out, on closer examination, to be utter bollocks." Tell me about it. I sat through a Cirque du Soleil show in Las Vegas.
Mr Boyo: Could La Zeta Jones bear the weight of another woman? Her haunches don't look that robust to me.

Ms OWO: Morals are always subjective, Aly, but some are more useful than others. Don't you think the cats are important in the parable?

Madame Defarge: I'm sure you've entertained many lucky men with your sprightly movements, Madame D.

Lady Daphne: You mean they allow the French in Las Vegas, milady? That's like serving snails with apple pie.
that is an outrage. I demand to see high definition video footage of this event so I can express how appalled and outraged I really am.

seriously though, she really seemed genuinely surprised at the negative reactions.
That's because she thinks what she did was art.
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