Naked vegan blog

Some bloggers from England sent me this email:

Dear Gorilla Bananas

We’d be honoured if you had a look at our blog and introduced it to your readers. It’s called Naked Vegan Cooking and we think a natural-living ape like you will like it. :)  Drop in for dinner if you’re ever in Manchester and we’ll give you some gorilla-friendly dishes to eat!

Cheers

Naked Vegan Cooking team (nakedvegancooking.com)

So I visited their blog and found a number of food photos where the only meat on display was human. The picture shown above was one of the more tasteful ones and I’m not referring to the cooking. The following description appears in the ‘About’ page: 

Naked Vegan Cooking is a blog full of delicious, easy to cook vegan recipes and beautiful, naked bodies and not an airbrush in sight. We believe in tasty food and positive body image.

A worthy mission statement, to be sure, but I cannot give the blog my unqualified endorsement. Although we gorillas shun meat, veganism is a step too far. There’s nothing wrong with eating eggs – by reducing the number of hungry chicks it preserves the balance of Nature. Far-sighted birds like chickens realise this. Only stupid ones like ostriches will peck the fur off your arse for stealing them.

Human nakedness is also something I’m ambivalent about. On the plus side, it keeps the sweaty regions of the human body well ventilated. The downside is that bare skin is a tempting target for mosquitoes and other blood-sucking varmints. I recently got an email from Katy Perry’s agent, asking whether she could spend some quality naked time with my tribe. I told him it could be arranged, but she’d have to let us smear her body with natural jungle ointments. We’re still negotiating the details.

The other problem with nudity is all too evident from the Naked Vegan blog – a lot of humans look better with their clothes on. It’s all very well talking about “positive body image” and such, but there comes a point when the gulf between image and reality makes it an exercise in self-delusion. Humans who want their bodies to be admired should expend the required effort in flesh-firming activities. A species designed for the hunter-gatherer lifestyle doesn’t get into shape by sitting on its butt eating Ritz crackers.

The dangers of body narcissism were aptly illustrated by a recent incident in a hotel. A naked man accidentally locked himself out of his room while putting some plates outside his door. Why he chose to perform this task in the nude is a mystery, but I suspect he was fishing for compliments from passers-by. He soon realised he wasn’t as beautiful as he thought when some guests ignored him. Eventually, he had to skulk down to reception with a plate over his groin.

In the light of this man’s misadventure, I offer a stark warning to the Naked Vegan bloggers: However many followers you acquire, the great mass of humanity will not give you admiring glances when you prance about naked. You won’t stop them eating eggs either. Never forget that your niche is anomalous. 

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The flame and the sausage

Hats off to the Lincolnshire mayoress who greeted the Olympic torch in a sausage costume. The fact that many onlookers mistook her for a phallus was not her fault. People with filthy minds will see what they want to see. She has earned my hairy esteem for treating this silly Olympic charade in the spirit it deserves. Ferrying a flame in fifty different directions so people can prance about conceitedly is not a spectacle to be taken seriously.

The Olympic Games are ridiculous, of course. Humans that run and jump for sport are pathetic wannabes – I could put together a team of chimpanzees that would win every track and field event. Why can’t humans play games based on their own survival skills? I am 100% certain that no ape could milk a cow as well as a human. Any chimp that tried to do it would probably squirt milk in his eye before getting a hoof in the mouth. Humans awarding each other medals for bipedal motion are like rabbits giving themselves prizes for landscape gardening.

At this point, you’ll remind me that the Olympics have a proud history going back to the ancient Greeks. What you forget is that the games of classical antiquity were conducted in the nude. Strict rules were required to prevent unsportsmanlike conduct – according to Herodotus, laughing at an opponent’s willy resulted in immediate disqualification. Be that as it may, the modern games have not kept faith with these hallowed traditions for purely pragmatic reasons. If they hadn’t dispensed with the nudity, my guess is that only Germany and Papua New Guinea would participate.

I say this because the Germans are famous for stripping off at the slightest excuse. A recent example of their fondness for doing things naked was seen in the town of Suderlugum, where a new supermarket offered a free trolley of groceries to the first 100 customers who did their shopping in the nude. They got more than they bargained for when half the town turned up naked.

“We were a bit overwhelmed,” said the manager. “We were expecting maybe 10 or 20, but absolutely everyone was in the nude. It was fun but I wouldn't want to do it every day, although it would cut down on shoplifting.”

Call me a suspicious ape, but the manager’s remarks sound evasive to me. A marketing exercise in which 100 customers get a windfall and everyone else leaves empty-handed doesn’t make sense. You’ve got to spread the goodies widely to make such promotions work.

His use of the word “fun” reveals the true nature of this offer. Let’s assume that 20% of Germans are exhibitionists, another 20% are voyeurs, and a further 20% are both. You don’t have to be a mathematical genius to see that any kind of naked event will be immensely popular, with or without free groceries.

All of which suggests that the Germans will use the Olympics as another excuse for group nudity. Anyone planning to go there for a holiday should expect to get invited to naked barbecues in which fat middle-aged men called Gunter will offer them flame-grilled sausages. Remember to blow on them before biting.

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Northern exposure

I had thought that nude hiking was an exclusively German pastime, but apparently it goes on in England too. A man called Nigel Keer has been arrested by an off-duty policeman during a naked ramble through the Yorkshire countryside. The policeman, who was fully clothed, made the cop after noticing the “disgusted face” of a woman walking her dog. 

The policeman’s behaviour looks fishy to me. Why would an officer of the law apprehend a naked man because he saw a woman’s disgusted face? Wouldn’t the sight of his wobbly buttocks be sufficient grounds to take him in for questioning? I suspect this so-called policeman is either a nudist sympathiser or a closet nudist himself. He obviously has no objection to people running around naked unless they happen to upset women walking their dogs. The suspicion of police collusion dangles from this case like a limp piece of flesh. I hope the judge gets to the bottom of it. 

The hiker has attempted to justify his unclothed caper by saying that he was unemployed and had nothing better to do: 

“It was just something I did to pass the time,” he explained. 

I have a certain amount of sympathy for his line of argument. If you’re out of work, going for a naked stroll is far better for body and spirit than watching daytime TV or playing marbles. And as Mr Keer pointed out, there’s a huge difference between honest, bare-arsed nudity and flashing. There was no reason at all for the dog-walking woman to frown disgustedly at him. If that’s how she reacts to a naked man minding his own business, what would she do if some foul wretch pulled down his pants and leered at her? Have a nervous breakdown? 

Of course, it’s possible she was disgusted by the man’s body because she found it unsightly. I suspect there are many women who never look at naked men unless they are gazing at statues of Graeco-Roman gods, which exhibit a perfection of form that few real men can attain. It is also evident that these statues are quite modest in the todger department, which in the classical world was viewed as a sign of refinement. Artefacts retrieved from Pompeii indicate that the Romans thought big willies were ludicrous, befitting donkeys rather than men. I dare say there are still many English spinsters who have no idea how grotesque and droopy a man’s genitalia can be. 

In view of these mitigating factors, I think Mr Keer is fully justified in appealing against the fine of 315 pounds sterling imposed on him. It’s all very well to sympathise with the woman he offended, but what about his feelings? It can’t be very nice to have someone frown at your private parts as if they were horrible deformed things. Perhaps the best solution would be for Mr Keer to meet the woman fully-clothed and assure her that he meant no affront. The court could then provide her with some photos to convince her that what she saw was nothing out of the ordinary.

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Literature appreciation

A correspondent draws my attention to a new stage production in which passages from great works of literature are read to the audience. To ensure customers get full value for the 20-dollar admission price, the reading is done by naked women who wouldn’t look out of place in the Playboy mansion. Those who can’t get hold of a ticket can buy a video recording for 19 dollars or an audio recording for 99 cents. 

On watching a trailer for the event, I was shocked to discover that the girls aren’t actually very good at reading. Some of them can barely pant out the words without tripping over their tongues. Heaven knows how they get away with fobbing off the audience with such amateurish performances. I certainly wouldn’t let them read me a bedtime story until they’d been properly trained in oral exposition. 

Perhaps the featured works are too advanced for their reading skills. Had I been directing the show, I would have made them read excerpts from children’s classics such as Puss in Boots, James and the Giant Peach and The Tale of Mrs Tittlemouse. These innocent fables would also avoid straining the brains of the audience, which are presumably more accustomed to processing visual data. The unlettered masses should feel their way into literature rather than jumping off at the deep end. 

The show wouldn’t be my cup of cocoa whatever the nature of the reading material. When I pay 20 dollars for a seat at the theatre, I like to see action as well as dialogue. The only kinetic activity in ‘Naked Girls Reading’ is the flapping of lips, the wagging of tongues and the fingering of pages. The girls should be utilising the rest of their bodies to justify the admission price. 

‘Naked Girls Singing’ would be an improvement, assuming it produced more activity in the chest region. ‘Naked Girls Playing Ping Pong’ would be better still, involving plenty of agitation in all areas of the anatomy. When I asked the manager of the safari camp what he’d like to see, he unfocused his eyes and went into a trance for a minute: 

“Naked girls sucking ice lollies and removing the sticky juices that dribble onto their bodies by licking each other,” he said eventually. 

I told him that a title of that length would never work and I had reservations about the content as well. Women are not cats, and making them lick each other would merely replace one kind of sticky fluid with another. Using moisturising wipes would be a more hygienic option under theatre lights. 

On the subject of health and safety, I have deliberately not opined on whether it’s appropriate for women to perform in the nude. The naturists believe it tones the skin and allows the pores to breathe, but they are not an impartial source. All I will say is that I wouldn’t let them do it in jungle. Not without first rubbing them from head to toe with insect-repellent, anyway.

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