Nekkid!!!!

What is the fusss? You've all got one. It's your body, and it's covered with skin to keep your insides inside your inside.

The World Naked Bike Ride had an event in Cardiff yesterday. I was going to participate, but another engagement came up (honest). The reactions of my friends to my telling them this was, well, frankly, in my view, a bit wierd. Some seemed to believe I would only do it out of some sort of pervyness, several registered disgust at the idea of my naked body being on display (to be fair I'm more oil slick than oil painting, but I've seen worse), and the all-pervading reaction was one of 'oh, no, I couldn't possibly do that!'. All giggled uncomfortably like embarrassed children.

Britain is a funny place to talk about, or do, public naked stuff. Culturally, we are European, though that is sometimes difficult to believe, but it seems to me that attitudes to this on mainland Europe vary but can be very roughly divided into the Mediterannean countries, where long centuries of Catholic influence have equated nakedness with sinfulness and sexuality, and the Northern countries, where the winters are so long, cold and dreadful that as soon as the warm weather turns up they can't wait to get thier kit off. We seem to fall into a sort of unpleasantly prurient crack inbetween. Being publicly naked is not illegal, but using nakedness to threaten,insult or offend is, the law being quite sensible for once. Yesterday's ride had a (uniformed) police escort.

I'd have ridden naked around Cardiff yesterday because firstly I am in agreement with the aims of the WNBR events, which are to focus attention on the world's overdependence on carbon fuels, and to promote the concept that nakedness is a normal and natural thing which should not lead to the sexual objectivication of the naked person, at least not in a public setting, and secondly because, while I am not particularly proud of my own physique, I absolutely refuse to be in any way ashamed of or embarrasssed by it; this I consider to be an adult and healthy attitude.

I do not assume that everyone or anyone else feels the same as I do about this, and I am obviously in a minortiy, but as with all minorities, it would have been nice to have been among like minded folk. I will certainly do it next year if the chance arises.

Then there were the 'practical' objections. Yesterday here was warm and sunny, so no-one could argue that one, but there was 'won't it be uncomfortable? I mean, eeewww....' Well, I don't want to go too far down that line of discussion, but a piece of cloth or tissue between saddle and the area discussed seems a fairly obvious way of avoiding the unpleasantness. 'Suppose you see someone you know in the crowd?' Well, smile and wave, I suppose. IF they know you well enough it'll be no suprise to them, and if they don't, they aren't really that important are they? And the inevitable 'What if you get an erection?' It's World Cup time, hang a Brasilian flag off it... anyone who has ever been publicly naked will tell you that it is just not that sort of situation where an erection occurs, ever. 'But, there'll be women and everything, won't you stare?' No, why would I? Why would you? Get a grip, man-sorry, I mean, control yourself! And, to my mind wierdest of all from some of the ladies 'oh, yeah, if I was young and sexy, then maybe I'd be up for it'. So what are you saying here, girls-that you are natural exhibitionists who are now too ashamed of whatever it is you've got to indulge yourselves. Willing to bet my next pension cheque you were just as shy when you were yonng and sexy anyway-you're fooling no one! This of course relates to another objention 'Yeah, but there'll be some right mingers I bet'. Check yourself out before you comment about other people with more openmindedness than you, buddy.

Come on people, it's only skin! Grow up and get over yourselves...

Philosophy Pheline Stylee

Can't really think of anything much I want to blog about this time, so I think I'll bore you all with stuff about Marx and Engels, who may be better known as 19th century socialist philosophers, but are actually my cats, so named in the hope of irritating my middle-class neighbours in my old place, although this turned out to be a waste of time. Most people just say 'don't you mean Marx and Spencer' or 'who, what?' I just don't know what they teach kids in schools these days, but the social and economic history of the industrial revolution clearly isn't part of it. I have just attempted to attach photos of these guys, but I think the tech has defeated me, and I am not sure how to check that the attachments have actually attached if you see what I mean, as they are not apparent in the preview...

Anyway, if you have the pics, Marx is the black and white one and Engels is the very dark brown one. I had them as kittens just over a year ago in order to deal with a mouse problem in my old flat. They are brothers from the same litter, and constantly amaze me with how different thier personalities are, taking into account that they have never been separated since birth, and thier environment and life experiences have been identical, so this may be of some interest to anyone whose life involves them in a 'nature v nurture' argument.

Now of course these guys are cats, not humans, and there is a limit to how much one can anthropomorphise them, but they have obvious personalities nonetheless. Marx is small, wiry and quite muscular; I regard him as the fitter of the two, though this is without any objective or scientific backing, just my impression. He is the more adventurous, 'laddish' character of the two, a bit of a scruff by cat standards, though I do not feel myself in a position to be judgememntal about this sort of thing. He tends to regard my place as a hotel providing him with food and a place to sleep when he is tired of adventuring (I should point out that both are neutered, so it isn't that sort of behaviour; if I'm not getting any, I don't see why they should), although he is spending a little more time at home in the day over the last few weeks.

Engels is plump, sleek, lazy and affectionate. Paradoxically, he is noticeably the better climber of the pair, and sleeps at the foot of my bed every night making himself a useful winter footwarmer, something his brother would never condescend to doing1 He is a sly and intelligent little sod, who worked out that, if he mewed at the patio door to go out, I would open it for him and Marx would go bounding out of the flat with considerable enthusiasm, leaving E to refuse to go-and having all the food to himself! This sounds like deductive reasoning to me, and it took me some time to wise up to the ruse. He is also by far the more vociferous, engaging in long and involoved discussion with me about fuck knows what, and telling Marx off when he comes in late-I wish I spoke cat... M very rarely says anything, and in fact for his first 6 months of life I thought he might be dumb.

I no longer have a mouse issue, and the pair are really nothing but a drein on my resources in terms of cat food and litter. I wouldn't be without them though; they are a constant supply of amusemnt and affection, items not unwanted in this particular sad old git's life.