“Once the naked monkeys got out of hand, the gods became fed up with life on earth.”
So says Tom Robbins. Whatever. It’s not that I would have disagreed with him, mind you. I was simply too fed up with my own issues to calculate the consequences of godly worries, no matter how plural or pressing.
And as far as I was concerned, naked monkeys would have been a welcome addition to the funeral Kitty’s mother called a “party.” Now that would have been something to smile about.
Come to think of it, isn’t it a bit of a redundancy to identify the natural state of monkey attire, or, rather, the lack thereof ? Perhaps drawing attention to that detail heightens our interest towards — and maybe even elevates our fear of — hairy, hooting primates.
I mean, a monkey is one thing. But a naked monkey? Well, that’s a different story entirely. A monkey is cute, innocent, and playful. A naked monkey is mischievous, unpredictable, and lecherous.
If a monkey looks at you, you think, “Oh, he wants to play!” If a naked monkey looks at you, you avoid eye contact and start tucking in your shirt and shifting uncomfortably.
Yes, naked monkeys are decidedly and particularly menacing. Still, I would have traded being alone with a naked monkey for being confined to that stupid party.
Everything was so prim and proper, I felt handcuffed to a teacup that trembled between the thumb and forefinger of a stiff-backed queen who struggled to breathe through her corset. The women floated through the scene sighing disgusting things like “Just lovely!” and “What a pretty picture!” The unimaginative girls chattered on about the dullest things, like dollhouses, dress up, and make-up.
I was desperate to escape. I ached to fling my hat at the cake, kick off my shoes, hop onto the table and scream, “WAKE UP!”, then dance a quick jig while the ladies gasped, then giggle with glee and flee.
And now that I’ve thought it through, I’ve decided I do disagree with Mr. Robbins, although I confess my conclusion is anthropomorphic. If I were a deity looking over the sorry state of human affairs, I would let monkeys roam wild and free and naked without giving them a thought — no matter how nervous people felt around them.
I’d rather be inclined to be fed up with a lack of imagination and playfulness on the part of humans.