Sex and politics
Is that a ballot in your cod piece or are you just happy to see me?
Beloved and I were randomly walking around the Detroit Institute of Arts the other day and hitting a lot of religious stuff until, bam, my attention got grabbed, hard, by this painting by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, which is apparently super well-known especially by middle-school boys everywhere.
Not being a middle-school boy anywhere, I was a complete virgin and therefore a smidgen shocked. In a good way, I mean. Which is almost the same as to say I could have come close to blushing, especially after three full hall’s worth of most blessed virgins.
I mean, look at them dudes sticking out like that. And up, too. The scene is that of a wedding, and there is much merriment and frolicking. Evidently people hadn’t heard of Puritanism back them, the lucky devils.
But, I mean, look. The women are covered head to toe and in fairness so are the fellers but those cod pieces sure are something else. Like push-up bras for the junk. In vivid colours no less. They knew how to party in the 16th century.
As you might imagine, this made me think of Pierre Poilievre and those gawdawful True Classic ads that are all over my Facebook feed for reasons I’d rather not know anything more about just at the moment thanks very much.
Can someone explain to me why it’s suddenly OK to objectify and exploit bodies for financial or political gain? I thought we were past that.
We are not yet into anything resembling a federal election. But somehow we seem to have blundered into a dystopian parallel universe where some people try to convince others that appearing “sexy” is what’s necessary to become prime minister.
I first came across a post on Twitter where someone who seems to dig Poilievre and not just a little is waxing ineloquently about how his fantasy politician is actually crushing Trudeau (you know, the actual prime minister) because the latter is effeminate.
Oh boy. That again. Are we going to need another boxing match to settle the question once more?
I will not link to the post and boost this account’s numbers. Y’all will have to do the leg work yourself. The well-toned, sculpted-calf leg work, I mean.
And while you’re at it, do try not to bust a tight pectoral because goodness knows those make a mess when they explode. Unlike effeminate torsos that are just basically smooth — wait, wouldn’t the effeminate torso be the one with man boobs? I’m confused now.
Perhaps a generous backside (you know, with hips wide enough for childbirth) is something our plebeian twitter scribe particularly appreciates in a manly man politician, and if that’s the case I would hate to be the one depriving him of his chance to score something worth spilling ink over with his dream hunk. But — how to say this? — golly.
Wait a minute, you say. This stuff about the Conservative leader of the Incel Tribe is supposed to appeal to women not, you know, stud muffins. To lack-of-wit:
“… that female vote…”
It does say a lot about how some of those guys on the Conservative side see and treat women but still, and to repeat, golly, I am befuddled. Which by the way I think is a very sexy word because I’m like that.
I have to say, as someone who spends an inordinate amount of time in a gym — and also out there running and, back in the day, fighting in a dojo — that’s not what “jacked” means and won’t somebody please take pity on that poor dog.
The Pleb Reporter fellow may have to ask himself some questions about where he stands on the rainbow spectrum and I for one would like to extend a personal welcome to that side of the colourful aisle, but never mind that for now.
This talk about manly drool-inducing pols (now you laugh) is reminding me that I would totally never body shame anyone, no matter how fucking tempting it is. Because body shaming is wrong. I should take issue with what people say but mostly how they behave.
By sheer amazing coincidence I’ve got something since today, in Calgary, Poilievre behaved thusly:
A few hours after this photo was posted someone with three half-ounces of sense on his team issued a statement saying the big man did not, repeat not, agree with the fluorescent bigotry on display.
Sure, yeah. Of course. That explains the very cramped smiles.
Look, les goûts sont dans la nature, as we say where I’m from. If you find a politician sexy or even just attractive, and vote for that person solely or primarily for that reason, c’est votre droit le plus strict.
Personally, what I find attractive, especially in someone who identifies as a man, is a sound mind and a generous heart, tied together with kindness and empathy. I like that in my politicians too. A great sense of humour never hurts either. But to each our own. I guess we’ll find out whenever there is a vote whether Canadian women on the whole prefer one to the other — or something else altogether.
May it have more to do with ideas than sex-appeal, please and thank you.