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November 24, 2009 at 12:57am

Cameron Moll’s blog was recently brought to my attention for an article he wrote on American Apparel. The truth is, my friends, enemies and asexual creatures of the code: I love articles like this. Not only does responding to them emphasize the godless hell-bound creature I am, but it solidifies one of our great moral dilemmas: How funny are boobs?

Questions of Morality.

I don’t have kids. I think we should address this head-on as a big indicator of where there’s a difference between Mr. Moll and I. I’m not really nervous about how these things affect kids. So my “what’s moral” gauge is a little different, but I don’t think we should make a country that’s for kids only, as I don’t live in one. In fact, I think most children know what’s up sexually (vaguely and nervously) by at least the 5th or 6th grade if not younger. For many people, who forget what it was like to be a kid, they retract in horror when they discover a boy might know what a vagina is at age 11.

Turns out (as I discovered much later) that we’ve all grown up with our respective reproductive organs from age 0. It also turns out that they’re very very funny looking. Finally, as you age, you learn that the act of intercourse itself is probably one of the most humorous things on God’s green earth and it’s great! It’s a mess of body types and preferences, socks-on humor. It’s probably one of the greatest things you can do on this planet, so what’s to be afraid of?

Coming from an overweight unattractive background, I know that the idea of a naked body can be repelling. Each morning I wake up with my respective vomit-bag and stare into the mirror into the endless void of my fleshy sadness. I get that I’ve coerced my girlfriend to stay with me by lying and saying “there is no world outside this apartment”. I also respect that people probably don’t want to see me naked. I respect those boundaries and don’t wander naked around the city (...yet). I see a picture of a fully-naked women with just socks on and I laugh, because that’s funny! Also, it’s superficial (which would’ve been a better argument) as pretty people are allowed to prance around naked on billboards while I remain captive for the good of humanity.

Repression

In my opinion, repression is the worst kind of education… especially in cases where the knowledge comes naturally to human beings. We are naturally inclined to have sex with one another. We’re naturally inclined to be attracted to and attract a mate. We are naturally inclined to judge our mate’s attractiveness based on societal and psychological ideals. It’s not as if knowledge isn’t going to creep out. There’s nothing we can do about it ever. There will never be a boycott on sex or sexually related material that makes any sense or solves any problem. There are bad seeds in this world, sexually. People who break the social contract and do horrific things. They are villains. However, a picture of a woman spread eagle is not pedophilia.

Real education begins with someone comfortable enough with the subject to know its faults and humor, to talk about it. If material is misleading or explicit, then the only people who lose out are those who would try to remove it or not talk about it. If you’re afraid of sex, or your children or grand-children learning about sex (which they will and most-likely not on your terms) or seeing the naked human form, it’s better to address it head-on then to ask someone to hide it. Stop trying to protect us, because it only harms us.

Show me a man for whom pornography has ruined his life/marriage, and I’ll show you a marriage that has been saved by its allure. It’s a tit-for-tat argument that no one can win. But, I digress, you’re missing the most important point…

Really, boobs are funny.

They really are. In fact, all “sexual” body parts are really funny: be them male or female. No matter what billboard or who they’re on.

There’s a beauty to them, absolutely, and there is the enchantment of the unknown and undiscovered that we all see in each other physically and sexually. There’s also the fact that we’re all just bags of water gettin’ it on sometime, and that’s the greatest joke of all.

Hey Moll, Squeeze this!

As man, who by trait is a designer which by many-a-definition is about communication, why not talk about the submissive positions that females take in American Apparel ads?

Of course I would counter with the concept of female empowerment through sexuality (a subject which I make no claim to know about, but it’s an awesome counterpoint).

Or why not ban them for their founder’s mischievous conduct in the work place? Sexual Harassment? Check. Walking around naked? Check.

Of course, I would counter with the very fact that it’s a known factor when working at American Apparel: so much so there’s a disclaimer. Much like revealing yourself as a gay man in the military, it’s not a great solution at all, but you should know what you’re getting into. Also, it’s not the best counter so this is a pretty rock solid argument I’ve made for you and I didn’t even need a half-assed quote from a book whose title should be indicative of its merit in our moral relativism tiff we’ve got going here.

Or how about just saying they’re not good ads because you can’t even see the shirt!

No, you chose sex. The argument that sex doesn’t sell is entirely negated in this case because it’s an industry built on sexuality. Clothes stopped being a utility the moment ties entered the scene. They are selling sex-appeal, with sex. It’s not a novel concept. I bet you look dapper in those AA shirts, Cameron. Sexy, even.

Who gives a shirt.

I don’t know why you wrote that post. Why couldn’t you just not purchase their fine 100% cotton made-in-america shirts and carry-forward? You wanted to make a moral stance, publicly, against explicit sexuality? Peeps been doing that for ages with no success, because we as species, love sex! You can’t stop us! We’ll keep doing it ‘till the last bomb drops AND taking pictures of it to sell stuff!  Why not get behind something with real importance and moral relevance for the now?

 

We all know how this ends

Nothing really happens, you’re just being a big penis who drew a line in the sand and I get called a troll… and that’s funny.

Side note:

I’m sorry Greg Storey, but Cameron Moll isn’t buying a Twitshirt