|
Mr. Fini goes on explaining: "Encapsulated in the ass, there lies the enigma of the relationship finite/infinite, space/time, which after all is the enigma of the whole universe. It's no coincidence that Salvador Dali, when asked how he imagined the universe, replied: 'As a four buttocks continuum.' How this worrying apothegm, so charged with symbolic meanings, was dropped to the end of men's back and, even worse, women's, is a mystery. But here comes again the great ambiguity of the ass: being not human for the perfection of its proportions, it is at the same time very human. Because perfection is inherently blank, inexpressive, while the bottom is the body's most eloquent part. The ass signals not only somebody's character, but also his/her belonging to a particular class of people."
So, with the help of my friend Massimo Fini, I have been trying to come up with a Manhattan ass map. We have, first of all, the typical Upper East Side ass, which I know all too well (it's Marsha's): cautious and stingy, with narrow apples, like usually in Italy the Tuscans have. The East Village behind on the contrary is trustworthy and hopeful: round, fat and with slightly open buttocks. The midtown is an aggressive one: firm and massive like a mountain range. Around Murray Hill, Beekman Place and Tudor City you find the volitive ass, small and muscular: And it doesn't belong only to U.N. functionaries, diplomats and their spouses.
The Upper West Side is of course the conversational ass: elastic and malleable. Carnegie Hill can boast the noble one: high, long and with a small relief. Working-class asses (low and large) are unfortunately rare in Manhattan, but a few survive in the Lower East Side. The City Hall behind is unavoidably bureaucratic: fat and shapeless. Around Washington Heights the proletarian ass is large and high, while in Park Avenue you sometimes get the military one: narrow and muscular. Wall Street offers petty and fearful asses, which are skinny without being bony; from Hell's Kitchen up to Columbus Circle and Lincoln Center you get the indifferent ass, small and curled up; the Village's ass is usually laughing (large and flat); but the West Village one comes rather naughty: round, with a step and quivering. And in the end we have the submissive ass, which I couldn't find any particular geographical liaison to. It's the one which shows two tender folds between the buttocks and the thighs, and is round without being excessive. This is the real ass. The ass of asses. Because it possesses at the maximum level the two main features which are typical of each and every ass: defenselessness and ridicule ("The cheerful impotence of the bum," described it Jean-Paul Sartre, another philosopher in the field).
Yes, the ass is helpless, because it can't see: It can only be seen. It is harmless because it doesn't have corners. It is defenseless because it doesn't have brawn: Anybody can outrage it. It is naked and exposed because it's hairless. And above all it is funny, like all things big but clumsily coward, maintains Massimo Fini, the maximum ass expert on our planet (neocons are from Mars).
No kidding, this is from the link above...
There are things you just cannot make up.
Sonoman
|