Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Shameless acts
I admit to feeling sorry for the English floozy who was arrested in Malaysia for stripping off on a holy peak. How was she to know that her stunt would offend the local mountain gods, causing them to instigate an earthquake measuring 6.0 on the Richter scale? The local tribespeople wanted her to atone for her sacrilegious act by offering the gods ten buffalo heads, but unfortunately she didn’t have any. The Malaysian authorities then took the law into their own hands by charging her with “causing a nuisance”, which is apparently an imprisonable offence in their country.
Had I been the girl’s defence lawyer, I would have made a plea for mercy by pointing out what she didn’t do. Had she performed her nude caper in one of the Mediterranean resorts frequented by British tourists, the locals would have slapped their foreheads in astonishment at her moderation. In the Costa del Sol, the English woman who strips naked is expected either to perform oral sex on the nearest drunken oaf, or douse her body with an alcoholic beverage for the drunken oaf to lap up like a thirsty wolf. The incident would typically be recorded on a mobile phone to provide her with a serviceable memento. Those who are too inebriated to remember the fun they’ve had now take the precaution of capturing it on a digital device to prove it to themselves afterwards. Such are the blessings of modern technology.
The girl’s father has described her as “a very intelligent, stoic young woman”. I suppose we’ll have to take his word for it. The thin mountain air might have turned Tolstoy into a giddy-headed fool. Now that she’s back at sea level, she should validate her father’s words by giving a seminar on meditating in windy places.
Humans from conservative Asiatic countries often remark on the shamelessness of libertine westerners. What they fail to realise is that repressing feelings of shame is sometimes a virtue. Consider the case of Boris Becker, the former tennis maestro, who impregnated a woman in a restaurant in less time than it takes an Olympic sprinter to win the 100 metres. After DNA tests proved his paternity, he humbly accepted his fate, agreeing to a generous divorce settlement with his wife and maintenance payments for his illegitimate daughter.
The girl, now aged 15, is an aspiring model, and her father is suitably doting. Far from being ashamed at having procreated in circumstances that would make a baboon blush, Becker has described the brief coupling as one of the more felicitous events of his life:
“If that's what I'm remembered for, then I'm proud,” he told a British TV network.
I think Becker’s conduct provides a useful lesson for saucy English wenches who prance around naked in exotic holiday destinations. If you’re going to take your clothes off, make sure you get knocked up by a famous sportsman who thinks doing it standing up is an effective method of contraception. The semen of the alpha male is worth its weight in Estée Lauder face creams.
Labels: Boris Becker, floozie, nudity, public nudity, sacrilege
Friday, September 19, 2008
The German question
An overweight English tourist recently claimed that Boris Becker and Steffi Graf were once an item. Can you remember that? I have no recollection of any such liaison. I suspect the man imagined they must have got it on because they were both German. It reminds me of that episode of Star Trek where a Vulcan chick boards the Enterprise and everyone assumes that Spock’s ears will start quivering with lust. They never did, of course, and those who reason in this fashion are guilty of an exceedingly crass type of generalisation.
I’ve actually got a lot of respect for Becker. As well as being a great Wimbledon champion, he had the most pickable nose of any player who graced the centre court. I reckon he could have scooped it out with a teaspoon rather than soiling his fingers. A lot of people can’t get past the fact that he impregnated a woman in a restaurant. The important thing, surely, is that he acknowledged the child as his own rather than denying everything and hiding in New Zealand. By all accounts, he has participated in the girl’s upbringing as well as coughing up the required cash. You have to respect a fellow who manfully accepts the consequences of giving a woman the most thrilling two minutes of her life.
I should mention here that human babies have been conceived in far stranger circumstances. In the circus I worked for there was a husband-and-wife team who performed on the trampoline. In their last season together, they resolved to make a baby while bouncing up and down together on the apparatus of their trade. Obviously not during a show – we gave them an hour alone inside the big tent before it was dismantled for the next venue. I agreed to stand at the entrance to discourage peeping toms. Although it took them a while to get into position, the deed was somehow done, and the pregnancy was confirmed a few weeks later. I believe they named their son Zebedee.
The other interesting thing about Becker’s reproductive activities is his preference for sultry mulatto women. For a ginger-haired Teuton, this shows excellent judgement. The last thing any child needs is a double-helping of the albino gene, resulting in skin that would melt in the sunlight. It also proves that Boris has no sympathy whatever for the abominable racial theories of his grandparents’ generation, in which we apes were offensively dragged into the argument. Speaking against evil is good, but showing you are against it in the way you live your life is even better.
The Germans have come a long way since the dark days of World War Two. They no longer hero-worship madmen and are much less boastful about their sausages. They do still retain the twin obsessions of outdoor exercise and nudity (a legacy of their resistance to the Roman Empire) but are now seeking to subject these pastimes to proper oversight. One who has fallen foul of the new regulations is a naked hiker who went to prison rather than pay a fine for indecent exposure. Although the man is clearly bonkers, I applaud his defiant stand against authority. If more Germans had done that in 1933, Herr Hitler might have had egg on his face a good deal sooner than he did.
Labels: Boris Becker, Germans, Steffi Graf, Zebedee
