How George Carlin and Breasts are Tied Together in my Mind
Posted on Dec 15th, 2007
by 
kcidybom
kcidybom
venus
I was thinking of George Carlin's "Seven Dirty Words" the other day when by pure chance I saw the oddest thing on TV. There was a program on The History Channel of all places, about breasts. Not the ones on chickens, but the ones on human females. Boobs...you know, those kinds of breasts.
I thought it might bear watching. I mean, after all, when a major educational channel devotes one full hour to breasts, it must be important. I might learn something. So I watched, with great anticipation of enlightenment.
The show was divided up into four equal-length sections: The history of breasts, breasts in art, the support of breasts, and the augmentation of breasts. Now here's the odd thing. In the history section I saw representations of how breasts developed, in size and shape, through successive editions of homo habilis, homo erectus, homo neanderthalensis, and finally to us, homo sapiens sapiens, double-wise man. (Hmmm. Really? And how in the world does anybody know what homo habilis breasts would have looked like? And what are breasts doing on a man? And double-wise? Come on, give me a break.) In the art part, I saw painted and sculpted breasts from Greek, Roman, Mezo-American, classical Indian and modern times. In the support presentation there were thousands of breasts, every one slung, trussed, flattened, pointed, puffed, flattered, fluttered, pushed up, out, in, sideways, and every one in a bra or some such cantilevered contraption. But not once in 45 minutes of watching had I actually seen a photograph or video of a naked breast. But then it happened! In the augmentation discussion. A naked breast, on a woman, well partly on a woman, who was lying on an operating table in a Los Angeles hospital. The surgeon deftly separated the bottom of the breast from its owner, lifted it away from her supine body, and into the resulting gap slipped a pouch that looked something like a sandwich bag filled with Jello. He then patted the breast, which by this time looked a bit like a bruised breakfast egg, back into place like a teenager out for his first feel, and stitched up the incision. After a quick commercial break, I was treated to before-and-after photos. The "before" photos showed a rather nice looking pair of breasts, ones that if I were the owner of I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to change. They looked like they would do whatever it is they are supposed to do just fine. But then the last "before" photo morphed into the aftermath, or the afterbreast. There was nothing in the history, art, or support sections that could have predicted this, or rather these! I was unprepared. I half expected that little critter from the movie Aliens to pop out. Well, two little critters, just for symmetry's sake. It looked like something was trying to get out! Breast Monsters! These were no longer breasts, they were weapons! Whether you own breasts or not, or in either case even if you're only borrowing someone else's for a little while, you do have certain expectations of curve, softness, texture, temperature, etc. These pneumatic additions to this woman's chest looked like they could hurt you; big time. "Hey, what happened to your fingers?" Bashfully: "It's a long story, but...."
So like Carlin's words, words we can only hear after they have been beaten and mashed, and transformed from their original shape, if we can ever hear them at all, we have breasts, which are fun to look at most agree, but some among us add: "Only after they have been beaten and mashed, and transformed from their original shape."
I was about to post on several other body parts that have apparently been neglected by Mother Nature but I'm being restrained by friends. Maybe after they go home....
Access: Public
boobs
July 2008 
let me guess, not a mention of nursing babies? after all, that is WHY we have them in the first place!! …silly men.
Silly me. Oh yeah, that's right, I'm one of those, a man. Forgot for a minute. And I'm sure the TV program was largely the work of us guys. We just overlooked asking those wiggly, poopy diapered little humans for their perspective. My bad…er…our bad.
It is interesting though…I ran across a paper in a vertebrate anatomy class that posited that human breasts are enlarged only for the purposes of adornment, that there is no direct biological reason for their size or shape, and that chimps and other lactating mammels make do with male and female chests being largely indistinguishable. Natural selection takes a voyeuristic turn, I guess…..;-)
And besides Stacy, this is just my war-death/boob sociological comparison exercise I've been talking about. I had to start somewhere…….
no reason they can't be functional and fun! ;-)
Albert,
“this is just my war-death/boob sociological comparison exercise I've been talking about. I had to start somewhere…….”
haha! I see your war-death blog has had LOTS of hits … and some great comments! I hope it wins!
new friendstacy - yeah indeed no reason they can't be functional and fun! :-))
soft warm boobalicious hug for both of you!
peri
Yup. Thanks ;-)
I think breasts for the most part are incredibly beautiful.I am a little weirded out by the huge silicony thingys that seem to be part of the 'American' culture.It's not so much that they are ugly,just weird,like the artificial taste of apple,not unpleasent,but not really tasting like an apple either.
breasts as weapons! interesting idea
how come men have only figured this out now?
how many million years did you say?
must be because main function of weapon is to fry brain cells!
I read somewhere that it is very healthy for men to look at women's breasts
healing power and weapon
source of pleasure and delight
food source and decoration
and play things…
such multitasking
must have been invented by a woman!
With ya on the beauty thing B.B. I'm not a fan of this kind of “improvment” either, for any body parts for that matter. I prefer georgous accidents of nature.
Jena - speaking as one with fried brain cells…ummm…what was it I was going to say…ummm…? And I should have guessed the looking-at and health connection. So that's why I'm so healthy and young at heart!! ;-)
I once was told by an elderly lady in the locker room of the local pool that it was wrong of me to nurse my baby in public. I stil remember it. I was in the women's locker room where tons of women were walking around with their breasts exposed and teasingly covered with teeny tiny bits of fabric. but she was offended by the fact that I was feeding my child with mine. I just looked at her, puzzled, and continued to do what I was already doing. I didn't know what to say to her. I was very young at the time— just 21 years old– and without any sort of savvy, outspoken, wildwoman support network. My first reaction to your post was to wonder where was the mention of a theory of WHY they developed, but I see you've covered that here. I'm glad it's very healthy for men to look at them— the internet is a health tool now– all that free porn– who knew it was actually helping men become healthier, but I think it must be healthy for women to look at them too, don't you think?
Robert Anton Wilson wrote a book called “The Book of the Breast”. I haven't actually read it, just read about it. I heard it was good– and very inflamatory. :-) (haha- inflamatory– maybe that would be a cheaper way of enlarging some of them. :0)
Did the lady say why she thought it wrong? I'm interested in how anyone could reach that conclusion. I wonder what she would have thought if confronted by the full frontal stone nudity of Michelangelo's David. Perish the thought!
Hmmm, the internet and free porn. Yeah, a lot of it is free, but almost all of it is soooo boring. John Deere tractor ads are equally titillating. “Wow! Look at the 54” deck on that 322 diesel!” But I do agree with the looking/health connection, and for women too. Yup, no doubt.
I hadn't heard of the Wilson breast book, but since I adore his (with Shea) Illuminatus Trilogy, I'll make a point of looking it up and reading it. Ya know, to further my education.
The “war of the sexes” implemented and carried out using our bodies as the rhetorical medium. Women obtain more social freedoms, the men's biceps get bigger, the guns get bigger, the hulks get beefier, the women get more waiflike, more childlike. The Eternal Child. (Dangerous? Us?) Union of male and female becomes stylized child molestation. In a move representative of increased female prowess that won't be too contentous, boobs get bigger. Now eternal little girls with boob-weapons. viagra = BOING! breasts = BOING! Sex = BOING! BOING! BOING! …I suppose it's still fun, after a fashion. :)
Hey Martha. Your email seemed to say that I might be distressed by your comment. Not at all! You're right on. We humans have taken so many of the blessings showered on us by the universe (Brezsny) and twisted them and made them ugly, or at least silly. But originally this post was a tongue-in-cheek test based on comments from Peri, Stacy, and others about the number of comments another post (forgot who wrote it) about breasts had gotten compared to a post on war. I posted war-death and this post as a 'test' to see which would generate more views and comments. By a small margin we're more interested in breasts than we are ending the war in Iraq. I'm not saying that this is bad or good, but just that it's interesting.
And hey, not all us testosterone people like the 'eternal-girl-child' look. For me it's a huge turn-off. I mean…completely! Yuck!
Hi Albert,
I embark on the “path” of thinking which your breast blog spawned when it was already “well tread.” These are some thoughts based on my personal experience, so other women may have an entirely different “point” of view (unintentional pun :-)
Being on the periphery of sexual “politics” for the better part of my adolescence and young adult-hood, I came to see breasts as I type of “offering” - like fruit at a puja ceremony. When you're very young, they are unripe, small. A young girl does not “offer” these to anyone, she is too busy being a child. For someone to “take” them is wrong, and most people understand this, and revile those who cross that line.
When she is a young woman, she may look upon her ripe, firm “offerings” with pride, and perhaps use them, not so much as a weapon, but as a commodity, like a fruit-monger. What price will you pay for these lovely peaches? If she feels that what she has to offer won't “sell” she hides them under the counter, offers up her other charms, or avoids the “market” altogether.
As a mother, she shares her “offering” with her baby or babies. Her child drinks sweet nectar from her, and the offerer, the offering and the receiver become one. If breast-feeding does not come easily, she pummels them and herself trying to get something, anything out of them. She feels like a wine-maker who has been given raisins, not grapes. Not only her baby, but she too, is deny-ed that “ambrosia.” It's more wounding experience than having to walk away from the “market.” She feels like a failure …
As she ages, she may discount her “offering” in order to participate in the “market.” She may even give them away, not placing any value at all upon them. But, sometimes - many times - she finds a wonderful “connoisseur” for her “fruit.” That connoisseur sees beauty where she sees ugliness. That connoisseur tenderly celebrates her offering, and she forgets her inadequacies and momentarily becomes Aphrodite. A Goddess.
And sometimes, she herself, becomes that connoisseur, and that celebration becomes a life-long attitude … she accepts them, and understands that the “offering” has been, has always been, perfect. And, that “offering” is merely a gift to herself.
(As for breast implants, the only image which comes to mind is the plastic fruit my great-aunt used to have on her side-board. Beautiful from a distance. Rubbery and fun to play with, perhaps. But somehow odd, silly and out of place.)
Wonderful writing, Albert. Thought-provoking and playful at the same time.
oh otter!! that's perfect, just perfect. I have been through each and almost every one of those stages and I'm now at the stage of not bothering to wear a shirt around the warm house if no teens are home. I have no offerings for surly teens. haha. thanks otter!
So Catherine, here's my thinking - there's no momentary about it really, once a woman becomes an Aphrodite, a goddess, she can't go back - it's an appointment for life. The thing is many times its not something realized until later in life. Same with us guys and the Adonis thing. That's what makes us 'experienced' people so cool!
And hey, Dawn, 'surly teens?' Is there such a word as antioxymoron? Just kidding.
Thanks you two…….;-)
Wow, Otter!! That's so beautiful. And, as someone whose baby was unable to breastfeed, I know exactly what you are talking about. There was nothing like the feeling of accomplishment I got when she finally started nursing after three months of pumping and triple-feedings and sleepless nights!!
Of all the things walled off from me by nature or trait it is the thought that I can never know what it is like to bear or directly nurture a baby that makes me sad.
I must be a wonderful feeling.
Albert.what a juicy post.):) please continue with oher parts of the body:) let your friends not block you….
I'm workin' on it Albert…;-)