Friday 27 March 2015

'Oh, Pretty Woman, Responsible For My Crap Life.....'

I've read some lame-arse shit in my time.  We all know what I thought of 'FSOG'.  We all know I have an almost insurmountable urge to stomp on baby kittens with their eyes only just freshly open when I read a petition from Change, and the whiny reason behind the petitions.  Now, the cherry on top of the chocolate sauce on top of the whipped cream on top of the ice cream on top of the bananas of the banana split: some piece of shit blaming the movie 'Pretty Woman' for glorifying and glamorising prostitution.  The author stated young girls might watch it, and take up hooking for a profession; hooking being a profession that abounds with the danger of possible beatings etc.  Hey, I get that street walking can be risky.  But what about women who CHOOSE to work in a controlled environment, like a council-approved legal brothel. 

I saw 'Pretty Woman' when I was 24.  I didn't sit there thinking, 'Hot damn, I no longer wish to be a law clerk; I want to walk the streets as a hooker.'  I sat there thinking, 'I wish someone would give me his credit card with which to go shopping, and my goodness I'd like to fuck Richard Gere!'

The author of the aforementioned article went on to say that at the 25 year anniversary of the 'iconic movie' (and I'm calling bullshit on that: it's a chick flick that drew on 'My Fair Lady', which in turn drew on the classic play 'Pygmalion'), the cast should issue an apology to the women who viewed the film and made a poor choice based on what they saw on the screen.  Now, I sat there wondering had my life been taken over with Lewis Carroll as the script writer.  I am not so arrogant as to speak on behalf of the cast, but if I were a member of the cast, I think I would stick up my middle finger and sneer a big, resounding, 'FUCK YOU!'  Why should they take on the responsibility for someone else's decision?  In my first novel, my protagonist rushes past an elderly lady on the escalator, and the lady falls to her death.  If you decide you're in such a hurry you shove past a senior citizen on the escalator, and that person falls down and dies, then don't bloody blame me, okay?  Do not expect an apology; it is not forthcoming.

My second novel has a loquacious beagle as its titular character.  If your dog doesn't discuss news and current events with you, again, that's not my problem.  For the record, my dogs don't discuss what's been happening, or what's going on in the arts with me, either; they come over and bark at 5.00pm because they know it's dinner time.  I will not be held accountable because your dog doesn't talk.

If you've never met a Marc Bolan impersonator after visiting a 'rub-n-tug' parlour, as in my third book, and you're pissed off it's never happened to you and are holding me personally responsible, then go eat a dick.  It's fiction.

My favourite movie is probably the 1970 'M*A*S*H', with Donald Sutherland as Hawkeye Pierce.  I love that movie.  I've seen it numerous times.  I have never felt inspired to become a mobile hospital army surgeon during the Korean War.  That the Korean War ended some fifteen years prior to my birth has rendered that ambition kind of moot.

I also love 'Pulp Fiction'.  Never once have I felt the desire to shoot up heroin and then shoot up people.  I'm kind of boring and sensible that way.

It seems everybody is on their high horse for no good reason, and completely missing the point as they look for someone or something to blame for poor choices, or choices that didn't pan out as would have been preferred.  Stop doing it.  Did the cast of any movie put a gun to any heads and say, 'Be a hooker!'.  I have my doubts.

I'm just thinking about the guys who drove kerbside to pick up a hooker, and were crestfallen to discover they didn't look like Julia Roberts, but perhaps a little more rough owing to constant exposure to the elements.  Do they expect an apology?

People who entered nursing after watching 'Benny Hill', hoping they'd look super-hot and have some tiny little man with a bald head and apparently no teeth running after them, do they think of suing the producers as they face the grim reality of bed pans?  I'm seriously hoping not.

Peeps, you might find something you see in the media or the arts inspiring, but at the end of the day, you own the choices you make, okay?

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