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It may sound
cockamamie, but what follows is no cock-and-bull story. One of the
fastest rising stars on American stages this year is a veteran performer
that has had limited public exposure since breakthrough appearances in
Oh, Calcutta! and during select concerts by Jim Morrison and the Doors
in the 1960s. Now, thanks to an upsurge in theatrical free expression,
this highly respected organic actor has experienced a sudden spurt to
the top.
I speak, of course, of the penis. Not
only has it become a household word (due to a relaxation of language
restrictions among broadcasters), but it also is being viewed with new
interest by many theatergoers, thanks to such stage shows as Puppetry of
the Penis and Beat the Cock.
Thus far, the biggest attraction is
Puppetry of the Penis, subtitled The Ancient Art of Genital Origami,
which has been wowing viewers on Broadway and just opened “with
testicular fortitude” in Los Angeles. The two-man stage production was
created by two Aussies, Simon Morley and David “Friendy” Friend, who
unleashed their unusual artistry in a national tour of their homeland in
1998, then took their act to London’s West End before landing
Off-Broadway at the (usually) distinguished John Houseman Theater.
The premise of the show is what Morley
describes as “genital gesticulations.” Or, for the uninitiated,
balloon-like “tricks with dicks.” The actors (currently Daniel Lewry
and Jim MacGregor in the New York production (yes, the producers
actually found other guys with similar talents) make their stage
entrance wearing nothing except Elvis-like robes and sneakers, and soon
strip down to only their shoes. Draping their robes into frames around
their mid-sections, they begin to stretch and twist their meat puppets
into such shapely attractions as “the pelican” and “the baby
kangaroo.” As a big-screen TV blows up the images for those seated too
far back in the theater to see all the finer details, the show gradually
builds to its dramatic climax with contortionist renderings of “the
Eiffel Tower” and “the Loch Ness Monster.” The performers are
highly trained stuntmen, so we cannot recommend that you act out their
play with yourself at home. But you can get a pretty good idea of how
these guys come up with their show-and-tell at the illustrated website: www.puppetryofthepenis.com.
If you’re thinking such a show is
nothing more than a cheap excuse for gay guys to ogle a few organs,
you’re wrong. Tickets aren’t cheap, and Puppetry of the Penis draws
lots of women, as well. One female friend of mine who saw it last month
summed up the experience as “feeling much the way one does when you
see a couple fighting, or a dog pooping on the sidewalk: I shouldn’t
be witnessing this.” But she admits, “Watching them swing their
wangs around like lassos, I laughed the whole time.”
And, laughter is clearly the reason a
show like Puppetry of the Penis is at the head of the pack. Likewise,
Beat the Cock, a crowd-pleasing weekly stage attraction at Orlando’s
Parliament House. It’s based on the old TV game show “Beat the
Clock,” a more serious revival edition of which is currently taping at
nearby Universal Studios for the PAX cable network this fall. In the
high-camp variation, audience participants vie for cash prizes as they
attempt to perform crotchety stunts, such as a theater-wide blindfolded
search for a dildo stuffed down the pants of one of the hosts. As a song
called “The Wizard of Odds” counts off the time, the competitors
must grab the secret cock before the rooster crows.
To some people, playing such a game might
seem like a humiliating way to earn a mere $50 prize. But nowadays, even
a lot of straight boys aren’t ashamed to show off their packages for
the sheer sport of it or for a few bucks and 15 seconds of tubular fame.
Take MTV’s current game show, We Dare You. The emcees run around city
streets and along beach boardwalks, offering young folks paltry sums to
perform what once might have been considered degrading acts. For as
little as a twenty-dollar bill, scores of studly “dudes” are willing
to pull off their baggy jeans and don bikini-thong swimsuits (once
regarded as the gayest of apparel), then subject themselves to such
pranks as allowing live crabs to crawl up their thighs or having gooey
mounds of pudding poured into their pouches. Most of the guys end up
prancing around in front of the cameras, slapping their bare cheeks and
projecting their bulges as if they were highly experienced lounge
strippers.
These kids apparently have learned a lot
from their mentors on a longer-running MTV production, Jackass, a series
in which the stars take turns bravely exposing themselves to all sorts
of open-air hazards, such as skateboard-ramp jumping in jock straps and
the way-cool athletic endeavor of naked pole-vaulting.
To
see all those cocksure young males willing to bare so many hardships to
make something of (or with) themselves can warm the cockles of one’s
heart. At least it can if you’re a good old-fashioned cockeyed
optimist.
Bill
Sievert, a transplanted Delawarean, resides in Florida. He may be
reached at allforthecause@aol.com.
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