The art of the Striptease

So we do not merely mean they are actually great at it. Not any, the Norwegian court system has ruled as very much, whenever they last week present in favor of an Oslo strip club which had refused to pay a 28% tax on entry fees. Lawyers because of the club argued that sword swallowers & comedians are not taxed in the exact same manner, and strippers should have equal status. The judges agreed, thinking "Striptease, in how it's practiced in this situation, is a kind of dance mixed with acting." (Wait, they are faking it?) In order to celebrate striptease's graduation from the ranks of excessive smut into minimal art, we provide several flossy tidbits from its history:

The old art form of the striptease traces the roots of it's to Sumerian tablets, that information the descent of the goddess Inanna into the Underworld. At every one of the 7 gates, she removed a post of clothes or maybe a slice of jewelry. So long as she stayed in hell, the planet was barren. Wh…

Considering Naked Pictures

Why would you assume that everyone needs naked pictures of themselves,” my therapist whose name, like mine, is not Chelsea but the name that is not Chelsea is the same? Don’t they? I ask. “No!” She says, her voice rising. “Many people never feel a need to take naked pictures of themselves.” This is a new perspective I need to consider. I took it as a truly universal: a person in possession of a body must be in want of photos documenting it, naked. It felt incomprehensible that people who had no pictorial evidence of their own fleshy erotics wouldn’t want to have them. If nothing else, as they grow old, would they not want to yellow, creased, beloved photos to take out and rub with their bony fingers?  “No,” my therapist said. “Not everyone does. I don’t. I have memories, and that’s all I need.” Weird, I said. I don’t get it. This past Thursday, Adult Magazine published some naked photos of me, and, almost incidentally, an essay about it. The reaction was not what I expected. In fact,…