Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Love cows?

It is probably inappropriate to post on this, but then again I can invoke my fantastic Medievalist Powers of Historicization to give it a scholarly patina and render it OK.

When not translating obscure Latin passages or eating lunch, one of the things I've been devoting my sabbatical time to is helping to organize a carnival, a fundraiser for the public school that Kid #1 attends. I'm in charge of the Young Kids Games. In honor of the carnival's rodeo theme, one of the feats of skill I'm trying to put together for the tykes is a lasso challenge. So far I have a wooden rocking horse and a large plastic cactus ready to be looped by eager cowpokes. I was hoping to track down an inflatable cow to add to the game (medievalists love triads). A froogle search for "inflatable cow" brought up the following: Elsie the Mooing Cow, promised to be "udderly hilarious." Looks promising, I thought, as long as it is tall enough for the kids to rope. Cute little smile, black and white polka dots, makes a moo sound .... good, good, good.

When I noticed the line in the product description that Elsie "includes rear entry opening," though, my chaste little brain hesitated (for what? realism? did a farmer design it?). Then when I saw that Elsie "includes samples of spanish fly and lube" I realized that maybe -- just maybe -- she wasn't quite the bovine we want the little ones to play with at Young Kids Games.

So how does this relate to the Middle Ages? Read your Gerald of Wales! He condemned the Irish for their interspecies ardor, and specifically for their inordinate love of cattle (more on this here). What Gerald would make of human relations with plastic inflatable cow substitutes, I wouldn't venture to say.


Karl Steel said...

A quick post because (unfortunately?) I've some experience with such simulacra. When I was an undergrad, I worked at our college's computing center, helping students out w/ software and the like. Since we were open 24 hours, I often worked the 4-8am shift. Being young, the alarm often went off while I was still awake, no doubt drinking and talking (seriously) about Sartre, "waking" me in time for my shift. So it took a lot of work to stay awake.

Turned out bestiality jokes were just the ticket.

And in honor of that years-long running gag, my friends bought me an inflatable sheep (yes, with rear entry) for my 21st birthday, which in true puerile fashion, I promptly mounted on a pole and displayed in my bedroom.

Go figure.

Maybe you can get one of those inflatable Munch "The Scream" dolls instead and mount a cowboy hat on him?

Dr. Virago said...

He condemned the Irish for their interspecies ardor

You know, next time my boyfriend mocks my obsession with interspecies love (and here I mean, say, a cat and a raven who are friends -- not beastiality) I will tell him I can't help it, it's an Irish thing.

Jeffrey Cohen said...

I love sheep, Karl, but not in that way. Great story.

Dr. V: I did note that one of the google-listed stores selling our friend Elsie is located in Ireland. I did not notice if cats and ravens were in their inventory.