Jim Hopkins begins in verse:
Pay heed, ye wags and dags and swells
Who wouldst provoke sensation
Your honed bons mots and epigrams
Will not convulse the nation
There is no call for polished jests
No need to hone your wits
For if thou wouldst true stir the mass
You simply flash your t***!!!
Equally, if the deliberately provocative Boobs on Bikes had been replaced with something less inflammatory – maybe Mammaries on Machines – it would be much harder to imagine your average callow youth or haemorrhoidal voyeur exposing himself to the risk of moral corruption by trudging down to Queen St for a quick perv.
One final thought before we close the book on this storm in a D cup.
Mr Crow is a fairground barker. Nothing more.
And his event is a sideshow, all sawdust and sleaze.
But it’s not the threat some fear it is.
At worst, it was an offensive inconvenience for one hour on one day of one month in one year.
But none of us were forced to attend this public mockery of the precepts of feminism.
We needn’t fear people like Mr Crow. They merely encourage us to make occasional silly or grubby choices.
The people we should fear are the curriculum crafters, the food police, the tuckshop banners, the secret censors, the untouchable apparatchiks who make the rules and rig our elections.
It’s the bureaucratic worrywarts busily banning this and regulating that at the drop of a self-righteous hat that should frighten us.
The always brilliant H.L. Mencken once defined Puritanism as “the haunting fear that someone, somewhere may be happy”.
It’s a fear that clearly preoccupies our new puritans – the ones in power.
Their enthusiastically exercised ability to supplant choice with rules is the real threat to our mental health and moral conscience.
There is more worth reading in between these extracts, you’ll find the whole column here.