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VIRGINIA GAZETTE

 

 

 

 

WILLIAMSBURG, VIRGINIA

Pimps, ho’s and politics

 

 

 

April 8, 2006

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Greek comedian Aristophanes had it right. The world has been turned topsy-turvy and is off the charts when it comes to irrationality. In the world of Aristophanes an illiterate sausage seller becomes the leader of Athens, and a crusty down-and-outer rises to become king of the world, albeit the world of birds. Neo-logic that is no logic prevails, and scalawagism is the moral philosophy du jour. 

 

As anyone who has seen the movie “Crash” knows, Aristophanic disconnection from the world at large is contagious. What it takes to knock some sense into our heads is a grand collision, or crash, since only then do we realize that everyone is not like us racially, ethically, politically or economically. Absent that, logic eludes us and, as a result, we fly off to Cloudcuckooland, where, with bird-brained bravado, we do very stupid stuff. 

 

I’m the first to admit that I’ve never been invited to a Pimp ‘n’ Ho party, though I wouldn’t mind going, if only to see what transpires at these events. On a very basic level, I have no quarrel with prostitution. The profession has been around forever, and some of the most endearing and altruistic characters in Greek and Roman comedy are prostitutes. As their managers,  pimps, I suppose, do about as well as anyone, though their leechy reputations are far from admirable.

 

Nor am I opposed to bacchanals or parties where people let loose and leave their Apollonian reason behind for some Dionysiac revelry. Dionysus was, after all, the god of wine, and if his worshipers want to go out and get looped, so what? 

 

And so what if kids want to go to a party masquerading as pimps and whores, though it’s beyond me why they would want to grant thematic relevance to the questionable parlance of black rap.

 

No, where logic fails and Aristophanic fantasy takes over is when parents weigh in with the Last Word, claiming that they’re outraged at the consequences of sending their daughter off to a Pimp ‘n’ Ho party looking like a streetwalker. Hello? 

 

Do we really wonder why the schools want to get involved in drug testing, or why sex education has to be taught in a public school classroom? Have parental guidance, parental logic and parental involvement in the lives of their offspring wafted up to the world of ethereal bird droppings to the extent that it takes a colossal crash with reality to understand what Pimp ‘n’ Ho means? Are there really parents out there who are totally ignorant of the fact that the primary essence of the pimp and whore business is sexuality, with drugs and booze running a close second?  If so, I have a bird world that’s just waiting to be their kingdom.

 

But those aren’t the only brainwaves around here whose electricity has gone haywire.

 

Donning their own Aristophanic garb, the Democrats have entered stage right and are actually going to run candidates against their formidable Republican foes in the November elections. Sen. George Allen, who, according to a New York Times story, is “bored” with his job in the Senate, will be a prime target.

 

Using logic that only the Democrats can muster, they are seriously considering running a Republican against Allen. That’s right. Overcome by the loopy logic of Limboland, they figure that the best way to beat Allen is to put a burka over the head of James Webb and hope no one will notice that they’re running a Reaganitic relic who endorsed Allen in his last election. If the Democrats indeed do choose Webb to oppose Allen, expect the Swift Boaters to make mincemeat of him in their flip-flop grinder and send him into Kerryesque oblivion.  Crash!

 

Closer to home, the Rural Lands Committee has finally issued its report. Allegedly set up as a committee to find ways to protect rural lands, the members evidently underwent their own crash with landowners and developers and came up with the astounding pronouncement that the best way to preserve what few rural lands remain is to have the county run water and sewer lines to now undeveloped lands and thus make them more palatable to the greens gobblers of the future.

 

All this makes about as much sense as the vibrations coming from the land solons over in Poquoson who, despite Isabel’s pillage and flooding, want to open up waterfront property to condo and business development.  Crunch!

 

Finally, but no less obtuse, is the apparently solidified stand taken by Williamsburg’s registrar relative to allowing students at the College of William & Mary to register and vote. Casting off his friendly-Al-the-students’-pal persona, David Andrews has now upped the bar and will require DMV registration cards from students who want to vote. And this, he says, to avoid “voter fraud.” Thus, while a college junior can legally run for City Council, his prime constituency, and presumably anyone renting space at Ruxton without a DMV registration card, will be denied the right to vote for him.  Bam! 

 

And so it goes in the polarized world of Aristophanes, where reason takes a hike and where the realities of a unified society are unknown until some fender bender jolts our senses and brings us back from the world of hoopoes and nattering crows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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