Organ Grinder:
News for Pervy Little Monkeys

Seems like ever since Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues came to town, there's been a veritable explosion of pussy power. Labia handbags at Emily Carr. Yoni stained glass at Womyn's Ware. Don't get me wrong, I love it. GO THERE. (There's a section in the venerated TVM that asks what your vagina would say, in two words, if it could talk. Mine would say: GO THERE.) But I wonder, where are the Monologues for Men? If a thinking man were to set out looking for the same frank dialogue, empowering chants, and funny names for his penis, where would he find them?

Coincidentally, I came across a charming article in the Province July 19th: "Men's things now out in the open" the headline screams. The subtitle further entices: "Why it's OK for guys to be male." The article goes on to quote pop-culture expert Robert Thompson as saying "We now have men as a distinct demographic…and you can see evidence of this throughout the culture." Whew! Now, that's a relief. To corroborate this fast-breaking news tidbit, the Province describes a show called Puppetry of the Penis that opens August 21 in Toronto, at the New Yorker Theatre, now home to The Vagina Monologues.

The irony is obvious, but the comparison is limp. Puppetry of the Penis, performed by Simon Morley and David Friend, is reportedly a demonstration of "genital origami" and "penis installations." I've seen this schtick before. It's daft. The charming and arguably talented Jim Rose used to pull these tricks in front of unsuspecting sideshow groupies in green rooms across America. All I can suppose is that Messrs. Morley and Friend must be more eloquently equipped than Mr. Rose, because the only message his "puppet" ever delivered was: "I am a sad and desperate man." I like cock as much as the next perv (and if the show ever comes to Vancouver, I'll be first in line with my hand out …for comps); but who in their right mind would compare it to The Vagina Monologues? (I'm trying to imagine a female Puppetry. Nope, it just can't be done without those stick-on googly eyes.)

Now, let it be pubicly known that I have not attended either show and I am, in fact, talking out of my ass (which is a natural progression, now that I think about it.) I did (reluctantly) read the script of TVM, and found myself delighting in it. OK, sometimes it gets a little precious, such as the woman who reveals "I had always perceived my vagina as an independent entity, spinning like a star in its own galaxy…." My immediate thought is that we would laugh our collective asses off if a man said this aloud about his dick, yet we are comfortable with the notion that he thinks the world revolves around it. It's unfair to him.

We can laugh about it, but the truth is that women are far more likely to talk frankly, at least to each other, about our desires and our fears than men are. The Vagina Monologues are a timely manifestation of women's quest for sexual and biological recognition, my favorite aspect of feminism. What has the "men's movement" developed in this department? Well, to quote the Province article: "…Today you have everything from The Man Show… to Maxim magazine, which earns more ad revenue than any men's publication." Goodness, that's a broad spectrum. There is another side of the men's movement: I am picturing a circle of naked vegan drum-thumpers pausing just long enough to protest "Hey, what about us? We're in touch with our penises. Stop sniggering! How do you expect us to heal?" Sorry, fellas, it's just that the primal screaming makes me giddy. No offense. Go on healin' your bad selves.

Guys, when was the last time you sat down with your buddies and had a frank talk about your first erection? Have you ever put on some nice soothing music, had a long bath, and set out purposely to make friends with your scrotum? No? Perhaps the time has come for The Penis Performances, The Willy Soliloquies, or, perhaps simply Cock Talk. See, even I can't talk about it seriously. I guess you're just going to have to write it yourselves. Or not.