Wednesday, September 23, 2009


A columnist at the Burning Man festival looked forward to the "Critical Tits" bicycle ride like an "eight-year old on the night before Christmas", but as he stood there with his camera when the topfree riders rode by, he had an epiphany.
Here’s the thing. When I was nine, my father caught me smoking one of his cigarettes. He made me smoke the whole pack. Suddenly cigarettes weren’t so alluring. When you are standing alongside a dusty road and 3,000 pairs of breasts are cruising by you, they lose their mystery, their seduction. You start to realize that the woman in front of you is more than a collection of body parts. Maybe at the end of the day, that is what the ride is about.
It's not easy overcoming decades of female breast objectification in the minds of modern males, but this particular example proves that it is possible to wipe away the distortion, even if it has to be done one brain at a time.

No comments: