…Because I wasn’t offended by this piece of performance art:
In case it’s not clear what going on there, here’s the sitch. Swedish artist Makode Linde wanted to make a statement about female circumcision. So he made a body out of red velvet cake, situated himself as the head and screamed when people cut into it.
Lots of people were upset at the caricaturish cake lady and called the piece racist.
But honestly, I was too bothered by the concept of eating a screaming cake to be offended. Also a little bummed that I have to think about bloody, tattered labia whenever I cut into some Heaven-sent red velvet.
(And now you will, too!)
And it did give me another reason to believe that I’m definitely not an RBP because I couldn’t possibly be descended from people who would go through this. Not because having your twat cut off or sewn up would make it difficult to procreate and thus decrease the likelihood that The Oreo Experience would ever spring forth from your horribly abused loins. Rather because I am way too much of a pussy to be the owner of genes that could endure the rights of passage that brown people the world over seem to be able to handle.
I’ve talked about my shameful love of reality TV on the blog before. Currently, I’ve moved on from Housewives and Models though and am dealing with darker shows… Intervention, Taboo, Chopped.
For those who haven’t seen Taboo, here’s the sitch. It’s a show that looks at other societies doing things that we in the West would typically find objectionable. Things like building your house on top of a grave, drinking piss for fun and hurting yourself in the name of becoming a man or woman. Just look at some of this stuff!!
Here’s a kid willfully sticking his hands into gloves filled with thousands of poisonous, angry ants. He’ll have to do this 18 more times to win at being a man.
Here’s a kid spending a coupla hours get cut all over with razors.
Here’s a dude who’s not Jesus willingly letting himself get crucified.
And here’s a lady breastfeeding a pig.
I’m such a wimp about pain that I passed out when my friend broke their toe. If anyone ever tried to do any of the above things to me, I would die instantly. Seriously, if I were a tribal dude and someone was like “okay, well, time to cut all your skin off so you can prove you’re a man.” I’d be like “Wait, what? Ohhhh, no, I’m not a boy, this is just a long clit.” Then they’d be like “okay, let’s cut it off then, so you can stay the pure woman you are and let this pig suckle from your bosom.” And then I’d just kill myself.
I know the Romans and Gaels and Saxons did effed up shiz to human bodies, too…but at least they had the good sense not to do it to themselves! Not saying my first choice for a Tuesday night would be to watch a torture party in the Coliseum, but at least I’d be able to keep my privates.
A friend did mention to me recently that the West’s lack of truly challenging rights of passage might be contributing to certain social ills (basically the super indulgent “why me ennui” that so many folks seem to be afflicted with when the only thing wrong with their lives is that they don’t have their dream job at 23). What do you think? Do we need to bring back more intense ways of letting people belong to the tribe? Let us know in the comments!
Oh, and if your answer to the above question is “yes,” do me a favor and give me a running start, m’kay?
*Shameless Oreo Plug. 1) SmartyPig is a totally cool $-savings tool! I highly recommend it. b) So I have the opportunity to meet with an actor who I love love love in the UK this summer. Trying to make it a successful working holiday and take some other Brit talent out for a pint with the hope of writing for them one day. Should anyone feel inclined to help an Oreo purchase one of those pints, it would be totes appreciated. You can learn more about my trip, and SmartyPig at this link.