For reasons which our researchers are still trying to figure
out (busy at work in the bustling bomb-proof underground laboratories beneath
the WDC headquarters in Geneva), whenever I put up a post with “porn” in the
title, the essay gets more hits than those with say, “ontology” or “monostich”
or “Trinitarian minimalism”; even
though, in no case is there the
least hint of anything that would
bring a blush to a maiden’s cheek (though it might cause a Nominalist to flush beet-red). Go figure.
Anyhow: I just
listened to another delightful causerie
by our favorite Franco-Maghrebo-Netherlandish radio journalist, al-sayyid Fouad
Laroui. In the course of a
highly entertaining rant, he comes up with the phrase that headlines this note. You can enjoy his perceptive artistry
here:
And for those lost souls who, slaves to their own libido,
wound up at this page under the false hope that they might wind up beholding
the considerable charms of, say Mlle. Aurélie Delvaux (which, en revanche, you may savor here
and here), we offer this bagatelle as a consolation prize:
.
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