Mars dick doodle

So the Mars Rover has drawn a penis on the surface of the red planet. The folks at NASA are stressing it was an accident:

“The image created was the unintended outcome of its exploratory manoeuvres,” announced a spokesman gravely.

Or in other words, one small cock-up by a machine, one giant cock on a planet.

I hope they don’t make the Rover scratch out its doodle. The Martian willy could be a major attraction for future space tourists, comparable in appeal to the horny chalk-man in Dorset. Perhaps the Rover should draw a giant vulva alongside it, to give equal emphasis to the male and female genitalia. Otherwise visitors might think 21st century humans were dick-obsessed maniacs like the ancient Romans, who considered the vagina a mere receptacle for the all-conquering cock.

It wasn’t just the Romans who were fond of phallic artefacts. The stiffy was venerated by most pagan civilisations until Christianity came along and told them it was embarrassing. The time has surely come for modern-day Christians to admit their forefathers made a mistake and reclaim this ancient custom. Obviously, there’s no point asking the Pope to rehabilitate the phallus – he would immediately suspect it was a trick to make him incriminate himself. It would have to be a leading Protestant, pure of body and spirit.

Do I have anyone in mind? Indeed I do. I nominate Sir Cliff Richard, one of the few world-famous Christians with no skeletons in his trousers. It wouldn’t be difficult to get him on board. I’d remind him of the psalm which says “Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me”, which is as phallic as it comes in Holy Scripture. I’m pretty confident this would spur Cliff into action – he’s the kind of guy who would glue his arse cheeks together if the Bible told him to.

Now I’m aware that Cliff has his fair share of detractors who think he’s the uncoolest person on the planet (Earth, not Mars). Some horticultural students recently jumped on the bandwagon by claiming that his music killed off the plants when they played it in a greenhouse. When I asked the manager of the safari camp what he thought of this dubious experiment, he predictably expressed confidence in its results:

“Of course his music makes plants shrivel and die!” he declared. “It’s had the same effect on my erections on more than one occasion. You’re a mad hairy fool if you think he’s a suitable patron for the phallus!”

I dismissed his remarks as the ravings of a Satanist. It doesn’t really matter what Cliff’s music does to organic matter anyway. No one’s going to play it during the Festival of the Sacred Cucumber. The important thing is that he’s incredibly popular with Christians, who would follow his lead on the role of the todger in spiritual life. Imagine those pious, earnest faces offering prayers to a mighty dong made of marble and granite. If that doesn’t bring a smile to your face, nothing will.

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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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The Pope forgives again

Pope Benny is behaving like a man who is desperate to change the subject. In his latest digression he declared himself a fan of The Beatles, lamenting the 40th anniversary of their break-up, and graciously forgiving them for their “drug-taking and blasphemy”. This has failed to impress Ringo, who noted that being forgiven by the Pope puts you in rather dodgy company. I personally won’t believe Benny is sincere until he reverses Yoko Ono’s excommunication for “witchcraft, satanic incantations and lewd exposure of the pudenda”. The Catholic Church will never be a moral voice for the acid-trippers and headbangers until it can distinguish the eccentric from the diabolical.

Meanwhile, the Pope’s ever loyal supporters have been walking on eggshells to avoid embarrassing him. Take the recent papal visit to Malta. The mayor of a small town wanted to tear down a much-loved phallic symbol lest the High Pontiff should accidentally gaze at this monstrous affront to ecclesiastical dignity. Commonsense prevailed after the creator of the monument told the mayor he was a philistine and an ignoramus.

“Rome, where the Pope lives, is full of columns, but I don’t see anyone complaining and asking for them to be removed!” he thundered.

A very good point indeed. Benny must have seen a veritable forest of oversized dicks in his long career of holy service – why would one more offend him?

If the Pope is determined to pardon child-abusers, he should start with those outside the priesthood guilty of the most venial sins. I was dismayed to hear of yet another schoolmistress getting arrested for seducing a teenage boy. The most dispiriting aspect of this case was the willingness of her 16-year-old pupil to testify against her in open court. Although the jury sensibly acquitted her of all wrongdoing, prosecutions like this send a terrible message to the young. A generation of schoolboys will have learned that kissing-and-telling and ingratitude are commendable forms of behaviour.

It seems to me that this schoolmistress is a good-natured and obliging young lady who made an unlucky choice. Call me a fanciful ape, but I feel that she and others like her belong in a religious order. They remind me of the pagan goddesses of antiquity who would bestow the ultimate favour on their most loyal devotees. What a happy position the Catholic Church would now be in if it had made these women priests instead of all those nasty paedophiles. Pope Benny, alas, is far too timid and reactionary to consider their ordination, but they could always offer their talents to another church. There are many progressive sects that encourage women to serve God in all positions.

Perhaps they should start by approaching the Mormons, who are rich enough to pay them well and weird enough to appreciate their unorthodox pastoral techniques. Before becoming priestesses, they would have to be trained to distinguish the deserving from the undeserving. Generosity is the finest of virtues, but it loses its heavenly aura if you toss it around indiscriminately.

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