Sex, with cows

When Fryday has nothing to write about and doesn’t want to revisit Wogistan, it usually reverts to the Hamilton Library’s Book of lists or The University of Waikato.

This week Fryday went to university

The University of Waikato is fertile ground for Fryday. It is the go-to place for ill-considered and retrograde activism and totally useless research. You may recall a Fryday post about the award-winning Waikato University study into “the geographicalism of sexism”. The university has disclosed a more recent and equally compelling thesis on Hamiltonians’ addiction to cars. The best that can be said for that is that cars may be the only addictive thing about Hamilton.

For an update Fryday visited the university website today and using the search box found:

56,817 posts on sexism
333,480 posts on racism

 370,853 posts on sexuality (they like it down there)

 313,143 posts on cows

And remarkably (don’t ask):

  3,482 posts on cows and sexuality.

The University of Waikato is certainly the place to be if you want to produce relevant, compelling research that provides optimal use of the public purse.

Of course The University of Waikato is not alone among universities in its weirdness, or indeed in its love of cows. In researching the latter, Fryday was drawn to the Sub-Continent where cows are just as loved, revered and worshiped as they are in Hamilton.

It was no surprise therefore to find the University of Kota.

Kota takes the cake for weirdness.

Just visiting the home page of its website is to delve into www or, as I describe it, the wonderful world of weird. Be patient with the opening welcoming video—it starts slow, but I can promise you it gets even slower. It celebrates something called the Fifth Convocation. A dictionary definition of convocation is a large gathering of people; up to now I thought it was prisoners going on holiday.

Going deeper into www:Kota one finds a page devoted to anti-ragging rules. What is ragging? Again a dictionary definition: it “now” means an act that violates a student’s dignity. It used to be a woman having her period. I am not sure when the page was posted on the Kota website, but—I suggest—the timing is important, because the intent is to “curb the menace” of ragging and that could, periodically, be very weird indeed.

However, in defence of the University of Kota and all other universities  a search of their sites reveals no posts for cows and sexuality.

Waikato, it appears you have that on your own.

Of Nappies and Nipples

In his later years the great American actor Spencer Tracy was incontinent. Katharine Hepburn looked after him. She was his soul-mate, his partner, his life. She was with him when he died. Katharine was Spencer’s backbone. His rib. And it was in that guise that she starred in a movie with him—Adam’s Rib (1949). It of course evoked the biblical proclamation that God created Eve from Adam’s rib. Why the rib, I don’t know. I would have thought there is at least one other male appendage more crafted for creation than a rib. But a rib it was. I won’t mess with God. But that doesn’t explain nipples. If woman is derived from man, in that order, why does man have nipples? On a man, they must be about as useful as a George W. Bush dissertation on quantum physics. But they exist. And according to the Bible, they existed first on a man. Why? Was God experimenting? Is man an experiment—a try-out, a prototype—and woman the real thing? Did God, when He was designing the male architecture, say I’ll put one of those there and that one there and see if that works and if it does I’ll give them to Eve and make them super sensitive so that Adam has something other than apples to munch on? If that is the way it worked, I guess God simply forgot to take them off Adam. God can be forgetful—look at Hamilton. But if we do not accept God as the answer then there is still the question: why do men have nipples? For the answer to that, I trod the oft-trod passage of modern pilgrimage: I went from God to Google. And according to Google, all men are bisexual, which of course explains the rugby scrum. It appears that when we first appear, God has a bet both ways. It is only later in the piece that he bestows an extra piece. Or not. Meanwhile, the nipples stay. And maybe God has a point. Nipples do no harm. In fact, they give men a small glimmer of equality with women. Something shared. And in that context nipples have a stand-out quality—unique as a body part. I could kiss them for that.

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