White Master and His Baubles

Last month, a series of unfortunate events led to my being press-ganged into flying all the way to Fort Lauderdale to provide twenty-four hours of tender loving care for an angelic little Gudiya whose mother, having developed leprosy or some other such disgusting tropical disease, had to be shipped off to hospital.

I’d worked out a perfect plan of action, which was to slip some Rum-no wasting Single Malt-into her milk and then settle down for a little time in the pool with the friendly neighbourhood chaloo chachis, for whom Florida is justly renowned.

Like most brilliant plans, though, it didn’t go quite according to plan. It turned out angelic little Gudiyas in Jesustan don’t drink milk—and are, moreover, immune to the soporific effects of alcohol, having encountered plenty of it in pre-school. The Beastlet had been given to believe I would take her to Disneyland for the day, and insisted I deliver. First, she screamed; then threw things about; and finally, displaying an admirable ingenuity that I must confess is rare in one so young, threatened to call the police and claim I’d been trying to talk her into pervy sex.

“Wallow in defeat every time”, wrote Sun Tzu. I did

$75.62 Adult and $63.90 Child—no half-tickets in Jesustan—might not seem like too much to pay to stay out of the paedophile pen in Fort Lauderdale Federal Penitentiary. But I knew for a fact I could do better. Not a great distance from the Beastlet’s home was the world-famous Fetish Factory, which was just then holding its thirteenth anniversary celebrations. A strange place to take a nine year old? Not really: there’s very little a child wouldn’t read as something from a comic book. It involved a certain amount of lying—I had to persuade the Beastlet to wear her Super-Woman costume, and then tell the darbaan that it was my business if I chose to date a midget—but much fun was had by all.


It did get me thinking, though: just why is sex in Jesustan so heavily accessorised—so tied to the purchase of things? At some point in their lives, most Jesustanis will feel compelled to pierce their penises or adorn themselves with nipple bling. Only in Jesustan could someone have invented the Silicone Flexi Power Rod, which can bend dozens of ways and, judging by the brochure, perform calisthenics of a kind no human penis ever could. Or there’s the Flashing Disco Dong, which can play tunes and changes colours, the EZ Rider, which allows you to stick a dildo inside you while practicing abdominal exercises, or the Mutant Double Dong, which does nothing my limited imagination can comprehend.

Some of White Master’s Baubles cross the line between being driven insane by lust, and just being plain insane.

In Des, for example, we administer electrical currents to men’s testicles at police stations, to make them confess to blowing up people in the bazaar or chopping up their Khotis and sticking the bits inside tandoors. In Jesustan, the activity is a loving gesture. MedicalToys.com offers the PES PowerBox, which allows users “erotic electro-stimulation play in medical fetish”. For just $ 259.95, you can access that enables the most “exciting aspect of role-playing Nurse/Doctor”: “when that patient complains about aches and pains, these handy little devices will have them wriggling and squirming from the rippling pulses”. “The Electro-Simulator TENS unit”, the sales brochure gushes, “is a perfect starter set for those who wish to push the boundaries of intense tactile experiences”. Other joys include an $ 149.95 set of electrodes to stick up men’s urethras, to simulate blow jobs, and the $ 499.50 ‘Samurai’ vaginal simulator, which gives electric head—no pun intended.

There’s even a genre of magazines devoted to reviewing sex toys, with articles that—without the slightest trace of irony—discuss vibrators, latex vaginas and dildos with much the same plastic enthusiasm Sunday magazines in Des talk home theatre systems or cars. Consider this discussion of the Natural Contours Ideal vibrator by Abby Ehmann, writing in ErosZine: “the Ideal isn’t the most discrete of machines; it makes so much noise I was afraid I might wake the neighbors with it. But be advised: the Ideal's buzz is pretty robust! I’m also not sure I’d advise direct-to-clit stimulation for the faint of heart or less stout of genitalia! In other words, I wouldn't recommend this as a starter toy”.

All of this is all the more perplexing because White Master has long claimed the Orient is lascivious and exotic. But there isn’t in fact all that much sexual exotica in the Orinet, bar the pussy-and-dick ashtrays that line the streets of Denpasar or the ping-pong shows in Patpong, which of course are for the viewing pleasure of White Master. Not even one of the regrettably few Oriental women I have had the pleasure of throwing on to my manji has sported a nipple hugger—or even asked me where my PowerBox might be.

But while White Master is inscrutable, he isn't in fact incomprehensible.

It isn’t until very recently that I have come to understand that accessorised sex has nothing to do with the erotic: it is a highly-ritualised celebrations of origins of the species. Baubles have a special cultural significance for White Master: after all, it wasn’t just guns and germs that helped him become White Master.

For eight thousand years before White Master arrived in what is now Jesustan, life was at one with nature. From morning to night, first the manji beckoned, and then the chulha. Khoti-ji had to be shagged to ensure the propagation of the species, and then chained to the tepee so she had no choice but to care for the half-tickets. Buffalo had to be caught, and then fucked to death (presumably chained to the tepee, since they are large and ill-tempered) before finally being eaten.

Do I sense disbelief amongst you judgmental Behan-key-Loday? Do I hear you thinking I am making this up? No! Native American sexual behaviour was what one eminent anthropologist describes as “highly inclusive" [FW Voget, ‘Sex life of the American Indians’, in A. Ellis, A. & A. Abarbanel, A. (eds.) The Encyclopaedia of Sexual Behaviour, Volume 1 (London: W. Heinemann, 1961), 90-109.] Regrettably for you super-dheela Madarchods this isn’t available online and will actually require effort to obtain, but you may wish to check out the scholar DF Janssen’s essay on the subject. For those of us familiar with what goes on in ponds between adolescents and buffalos in saada Punjab, it will immediately be clear that it wasn't in error that native Americans were called Indian.

Khair, the point is that sex was work, enmeshed in the mundane, not a time-pass faltootype thing. Time pass consisted of making, wearing and trading beads made from shell, pearl, bone, and teeth. Perhaps the best known kinds of beads were wampum, small cylindrical white-and-purple beads which were used as legal tender across Jesustan until the mid-eighteenth century. Beads were used to signal war, peace and a range of other human emotions. For example, a man might give his beloved a wampum ring as a sign of undying love. He might, on the other hand, slide an erect finger in and out of a ring of wampum before the friendly neighbourhood chaloo-aunty, as a way of asking, “How Much for you”?

Now, when White Master arrived in these parts, he set about using the locals’ bead-fetish to make to make chutiyas of them. He would sell them glass beads purchased 10,000,0000 for tuppence in Home Country in return for things that actually had value. In return for a six foot string of small beads, White Master would buy a beaver skin that Armani’s great-great-great grand-mummy-ji (who was not chaloo) would sell to the Nawab of Sault Sainte Marie (who was super-duper chaloo) for a hundred tons of gold. Nawab-Sahib would then give the beaver skin to his loving khoti, who would then overlook the fact that he was getting himself buggered by the dhobi, and would go off warmly clad to console herself with the khansama.

Meriwether Lewis, who made an epic crossing of Jesustan in 1804-1806 in search of a dark corner to shag his lust object William Clark found a smooth blue glass bead known as the ‘Russian’—actually made just off Dariba market, second gali on the left—to be especially valued by the native becharey who on the Columbia River in Pacific Northwest. Lewis tried seducing Clark, I’m told, with a large string of smooth blue glass, ideally for being slid in and out of the buttocks when tempered with a teaspoonful of olive oil. However, Clark went off and married a woman called Julia; Lewis committed suicide.

Enough, though, of what my friends the Pathans called Bacccha-Baazi (and Bakri-Baazi).

The point here is simple: White Master has understood that Baubles are Power. Jesustan colonised the world not through the power of its guns, as its fifth-rate Faujis like to imagine, nor the knowledge of its universities. It triumphed through the sheer power of but things. Jesustan rules the world because of the slutty seductiveness of iPod and Gap, of Diet Coke and yes, even Dorritos. It is this great heritage that Jesustanis celebrate when they bring Baubles into their bedrooms. In every culture, sex and power is entwined. In Jesustan, that embrace is particularly intimate.