Spencer Tunick takes photographs of naked people for a living. He calls it "Art". But is it?
In 2010, 5000 idiots stripped in front of the Sydney Opera House in the name of "art".
How fitting that such a freak event occur at such a freak of a building.
Like a massive flock of shaved sheep, the art-nudists were expertly steered, organised and positioned by Tunick's shepparding. His support staff providing nuanced direction from the side-lines, like sheep-dogs.
What? Not one boner?
A number of questions and thoughts enter the mind of the normal person who witnesses such events:
How do nudists, novice and seasoned, actually bring themselves to do it (especially the heinous, the ugly and the small-pricked)?
It appears that lurking amongst us, disguised in clothing, are thousands of people just bursting to strip in public. How do we explain this? Are they mental or normal? Do they have humility, feel shame?
How are they immune to the centuries-old guilt trip handed down to us over the ages by the Church that we should hide our private bits?
How do the blokes not get erections? Think about it: female naked bodies normally arouse males. It's a trillion dollar industry and necessary element for continuing the human race. Tunick's events should create a sea of woodies followed by a mexican wave of female disgust, slaps and walk-offs.
Does there need to be an artistic reason to support such an activity? There must be some considerable motivation behind this behaviour, as it is no simple task: to participate requires effort, time, transport and logistical arrangements, time off work, etc etc. There are many obstacles presented to the budding art-nudist. They must really mean what they do. Why?
If these people are not psychos, the rest of us normals must shiver a little at why we all don't feel such a need.
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