Busting Loose

Speaking of huge boobs, Beloved Girlfriend and I watched a spectacular movie this weekend called The White Ribbon. It's an Austrian film set in a small German town around 1913. The plot revolves around a series of mysterious violent acts inflicted upon the townspeople over the course of about a year.

It's a low-key though very intense production, earning its "R" rating for subject matter as there's no blood, nudity or gratuitous violence. There is a charming romance to leaven the gloomy tone but it's countermanded by some real grade-A creepiness. Above all it's a mystery film, but not the kind you're familiar with as it leaves much left for the viewer to discover, and that's just fine.

The direction is mannered and thoughtful, shot originally in color but re-mastered as B&W in order to give it a brooding, period feel. In this regard it reminded me of Ingmar Bergman's great films of the 50s and 60s.

If you're tired of movies filled with frantic jump-cuts and endless gun battles and desire a film that feeds your intellect then try this one.

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This planet is rife with bio-diversity but it's safe to say that there is nothing hanging off any other animal that quite resembles the human female breast. Gorillas, goats and gophers all got boobs but, except in very rare instances, your average man is not going to notice these animals even if they're parading around in the latest in skimpy beachwear. Brazilianized or not.

However, you can't say that about other areas of a woman's body.

I don't want sound entirely sophomoric here but if you check out a sheep from the rear you'll see something that, for all intents an purposes, is the same thing you'll find gracing the inner pages of Chic, Oui or (and I'm only guessing here) Better Homes and Vaginas. I'm not a prude or anything but when the state fair is in town I avoid the animal pens altogether as I just end up wanting to put pants on every bah-bah I pass. (Otherwise they're just ASKING for it. And they're all underage, you know.)

But boobs? You own the patent, ladies. That is sexual job security of a sort a guy can't begin to imagine, and guys can imagine a LOT.

But think about this... million of years from now alien archeologists will visit this dead planet and disinter what is left of our remains. In the process I wonder what they'll make of the human breast. And what of the occasional specimen they discover that has bags of organic material resting under the skin of the upper torso? Will they wonder if it grew there? Is it a parasite? Does it change shape or size with age? Does it make sounds? Will they make a leap of intuition and recognize it as the human duck-call that it is?

As odd as that seems modern paleontologists look at the crests of, say, a female charonosaur and make similar guesses as to its primary function. But I'm pretty certain that male charonosauruses looked at the female frills and said to themselves "Ohhhh, baby! Must be jam 'cause jelly don't shake like that".

In a sense, those were dinosaur boobs. So the next time you're at the museum of natural history and you see an ankylosaurus adorned with what appears to be a Cross-Your-Heart bra, you'll know that the state fair just left town.

=Lefty=