TAK BOLEH BOGEL (NO NUDITY) IN MALAYSIA!
ItÕs been ages since I felt moved to write a letter to The Editor. The
urge to air my views in print has been building up since the Nude Squat
furore erupted (seems like the only ÒlegitimateÓ way you can see people
naked is to arrest them first). City HallÕs declared intention to
penalise folks caught smooching or even holding hands in public was
irksome news to me (some of my fondest memories involve exactly that).
But the final straw was the email I received announcing that free
screenings of international films organised by Kaki Kino at FINAS have
been suspended till further notice, after a shrill complaint about
uncensored Òbabak lucahÓ (nude scenes) appeared in a leading Malay
daily.
Imagine a lush lagoon, festooned with giant ferns and flirtatious
mermaids. A man and a woman, both well-tanned, are strolling
hand-in-hand along the
sandy shore, gloriously naked. Is that not a veritable vision of
paradise? Granted, the couple could also be modelling chic
beachwear by Jean-Paul Gaultier (but that would be too much like a
glossy magazine ad).
Now imagine a fast-motion sequence showing Tokyo commuters at rush hour
Ð all respectably dressed in office apparel and suffering from
gastritis. Or a slow-motion montage of KL traffic after a heavy
afternoon downpour. Cut to the gory aftermath of a car bomb attack in
Baghdad and then crossfade to a wide-angle closeup of an American-made
Israeli bulldozer, demolishing a Palestinian neighbourhood, as
terrified women clutch babies to their hearts and wail in despair.
Hellish scenes, for sure Ð but they would get past the censors, no
problem.
Why is this so? Are we being indoctrinated to perceive pain as okay and
pleasure as not? Is it any wonder that crime reports are getting more
gruesome by the day? Maybe itÕs time to reassess what sort of messages
weÕre being programmed with.
ThereÕs no way I can conceive of a kiss or a hug, regardless of whoÕs
doing it and where, as being indecent or offensive. These are signs of
love and affection. Are these warm feelings WRONG? Folks who react
negatively to romance and sex were probably deprived of cuddles as
kids. TheyÕre likely to inflict corporal punishment on their own
children as a matter of routine. Those who express alarm and outrage at
the sight of female nipples are undoubtedly some inorganic lifeform in
human disguise that never experienced the life-sustaining comfort and
nourishment of motherÕs milk. How do you think a baby would react to
seeing a bare breast or two on the screen? Lodge a self-righteous
report with the religious police... or gurgle with happiness?
All it takes is a bit of common sense and reason. ThereÕs nothing
shameful about our bodies. Fat or sinewy, hairy or baby-smooth, the
body is our sovereign domain,
our physical home. Naked or adorned with sparkling gems, bodies are
magnificent by divine
design. Everybody loves being naked. In the bathroom or the bedroom,
being naked means youÕre enjoying a hot shower or some hot sex. Or
maybe youÕre just relishing a good poop or your private space after a
marathon immersion in public affairs. WhatÕs so scandalous about that?
We live in the hot and humid tropics. The sort of place where clothing
is merely a fashionable option. You wonÕt find too many nudist colonies
in Alaska or Tibet. Arab women have traditionally had to cover up to
protect themselves from desert sandstorms, camel farts (possibly
radioactive since Gulf Wars I and II) and temperature extremes. Were it
not for fear of their control-freak husbands, donÕt you think they
would celebrate being in their own skins if they were magically
transported to a balmy beach in the South Seas? Talk about
Òinappropriate attireÓ... being wrapped in thick cloth from head to toe
on a sweltering day in the city sounds like a portable sauna to me. But
to each his or her own - IÕm happy in my sarong and flip-flops.
I have to be honest with myself. I love looking at beauty, and women
are embodiments of the Great Goddess, deserving of admiration, love and
respect. If a naked woman walked past me in the street, I would
certainly turn my head for a second look. And IÕd feel absolutely no
guilt or shame about doing so. Nor would I - uncontrollably overcome by
animal lust - drag her by the hair off to my cave and show her my
etchings. Unless, of course, she handed me a perfumed note with
precisely such a request. Even so, IÕd rather she walk back to my cave
on her own two feet than drag her all the way. I have a different
concept of exercise.
Immaturity has its place, I grant that. However, let it not be exalted
as the arbiter of our behaviour and our moral code. ThereÕs no
immorality in portraying the human form in various stages of dress or
undress in the adult cinema. WhatÕs truly immoral is imposing on others
our own limitations and limiting beliefs. Do we really value the
grotesque hypocrisy censorship encourages? Are we to blinker our
cinematic vision (like the proverbial
katak under a
tempurung)
in a
knee-jerk reaction to the poisonous outpourings of a pusillanimous
prude?
Sincerely,
Antares
Kuala Kubu Baru
27 April 2006