DON'T WASTE MY TIME!

Walking up Madison Avenue, I ran into a crowd of people in front of the Frank Campbell Funeral Home. TV was there and a whole mob of folks. Like a moron, I asked “Who died?”, which met with incredulous stares. Some lady with a whole lot of attitude deigned to inform me, “Heath Leisure.” Like, I’m the last person in New York to find out he died!

I’m out of style. What do I care about freakin Brokebutt Mountain? “Oh, Bruce, don’t leave me alone with the sheep!” They can’t figure out how he died? Maybe they should check the back door for signs of forced entry, y’know what I mean?

Meanwhile, I’m sitting in a bar full of ugly women. I’m the only cock in a shack full of cackling hens and chickens. The place, Cilantro on Second Avenue, has got more pussy than the SPCA, but all these cats are dogs. Women have ceded their one big advantage, one that they have held at least since Cleopatra and Helen of Troy – allure.

The astonishing thing is that there is not a looker among them. No make-up, utilitarian hairstyles, totally shapeless clothes. And they don’t seem to be bothered by their boring appearance. They seem to be proudly vaunting their plainness like a badge of honor. It’s as though they have given up any thought to their looks, preferring instead to think of themselves as persons of substance. So does that mean that they’re all rocket scientists? Hardly.

Sorry, I’m superficial. If you don’t have the brains to look good, how smart can you be? In the past, even if women didn’t feel as though it was worth it to make themselves attractive to the men, they at least dressed to impress each other. Now that has gone out the window as well. They are seemingly not even bothering to look good to please themselves.

We are at the crossroad of conformity and witless puritanism. The headlong rush toward conformity in contemporary culture even precludes standing out to the extent of looking attractive. This tedium has reached such a crisis that it’s hardly worth living anymore (whoa, let’s not get carried away – on a stretcher ha-ha).

Forget about displays of extravagance, of Anita Eckberg in a drop-dead evening gown jumping into Rome’s Fountain of Trevi, as in Fellini’s great tableau of Italian decadence, La Dolce Vita. That is unimaginable today, where the greatest public rush is Paris Hilton getting into her limo without panties or Lindsay Lohan falling down dead drunk on her way to rehab. The major element lacking is that of style.

I look around the room. Not a pair of painted lips or a silk scarf in the place. Any sign of personality or vanity is completely “out.” What passes for fashion is the mindless extravagance manifested by the idiot mannequins featured in “Sex In The City”, which has elevated adolescent conformity to an adult level. People have lost the simple elements of style. If you want to look good today it costs thousands of bucks and a makeover campaign reminiscent of the invasion of France. Anyway, nobody’s interested. Plainness is “in.” The puritans have won.

What qualifies me as an arbiter of fashion asks my female companion, whose role in life seems to be to reduce me to the tedious level of my environment. Any time I really start having a good time, she reminds me what a loser I am. Just what I need! She’s a staunch advocate of the party line, whatever it happens to be at the time. It’s like being in jail.

Holding up the pencil, I say, “This qualifies me. I’m holding the pencil. OK?” I’m not waiting for any establishment credentials before expressing an opinion. “We don’t have to show you no stinking badges!” I’ll write my own credentials.

No wonder sales of Viagra are shooting through the roof, considering the absence of those external stimuli that have kept men rigid since time immemorial. The shift toward temperance goes past reefer and alcohol, past even female seduction, to a point of anesthetic denial of any kind of thrill which might make life rewarding.

The only recourse left is food, which explains the explosion of obesity and diabetes that is taxing the public health system to the breaking point.

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Posted on 1/26/2008 ( Permanent Link )
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