How many features does my employer Gamelink publish almost daily about our Top Ten Big Boobs, Pointiest Nipples, Flat-Chested Women, Jamaican Jugs, Canadian Cans, and Breasts Squashed into Plastic Bags? Like a hundred. Boobs are sexy.
Except when they’re not. Women should be allowed to breastfeed in public without shocked finger-waggers worrying that a method of feeding children at least a hundred times better than Cheetos will lead to rape and sidewalk masturbation. Yet we have Lactating videos on this wonderful porn e-commerce powerhouse and aren’t there whole websites and fetishes devoted to adult breastfeeding? Sure. Boobs are fascinating.
Except when you shouldn’t pay attention to them. Weren’t there competing stories out of New York this week about a massive rally for GoTopless.org (allied with the non-sexualizing Free the Nipple movement) as well as a crackdown on topless women harassing Times Square tourists for photos? Boobs are everywhere!
Also, has the term Nipple Tourism been coined yet? Did I just do it?
So how do we reconcile ourselves to boobs? And shouldn’t we acknowledge that it’s not crazy that reasonable human beings will find the presence of them sexy, regardless of context?
Quentin Tarantino, who has already given us so much, wrote some dialogue about foot massages that I think is relevant to the Great Nipple Debate.
“I ain’t saying it’s right, but you saying a foot massage don’t mean nothing and I’m saying it does,” says Vincent. “We act like they don’t but they do and that’s what’s so fucking cool…you know it and she knows it.”