Day 8: Uncensored

OK, I love women. I really love women. I would say I like women naked, but that wouldn’t be art. I like them nude. That’s art. Since this is art, it’s OK if the kiddies see it. This is a cultural experience.

This painting represents, well, my love of cartooning, the female form, and my hatred of the Puritanical censorship that masquerades as “protecting the children.” Whereas I think children should be remain safe from life-altering trauma, I don’t think seeing a titty is among them. Especially since science is pointing more and more toward breast feeding as an almost magical experience, nutritionally, immunologically, physiologically and psychologically.

It may be an unpopular view among those who think the world is only 527 years old, but WE ARE MONKEYS! Monkeys play with their naughty bits and fling poo. We’re not that different, we just pretend we are. Take away our electricity and our internal combustion engine, give it two weeks and we’ll be doing the same thing. Only we’ll have guns. I’d much rather have poo flung at me than get shot.

But I digress. Janet Jackson’s titty at the 2004 Super Bowl? I think it’s obscene that it became news. It’s obscene that children saw their parents over-react and dump heaps of shame over the human body, the one that our Creator has given to us. Fig leaves? Shame? That’s sooo 496 years ago! Let it go, and (I dare say) evolve!