Pit Bulls and Lipstick

By Randy Redbull

When Alice wanting to be the queen of the giant chess game in the Looking-Glass House the red queen told her to go to the eighth square. There Tweedledum and Tweedledee made her recite the longest poem she knew. Thus she clued us in on her cosmic awareness:

“The time has come.” The Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes—-and ships—-and sealing wax-—
Of cabbages—-and kings-—
And why the sea is boiling hot—-
And whether pigs have wings.”

You see I have to admit that I have never actually seen a pig putting on lipstick. I guess it was because pigs had a hard time holding lipstick in their hooves, and the fact that their species never adapted to the manufacture and sale of mirrors for self-conscious assessment?

Whereas I certainly have imagined that atrocity of a pig wearing lipstick, that is, after listening to radio talk host Ed Shultz refer to this stock metaphor of trying to paint a pig with lipstick that meant trying to paint an ugly reality with ruddy glamour.

There is something shockingly crude in the idea of a barnyard bluster of a pig, with its crud of hairy, blotched-colored skin, applying the whimsies of a model’s hauteur to her cream colored face. The elegance of glamour magazines applied to a pig’s alacrity for mud does strike a curious Madonna-like pose indeed.

But a pit bull with lipstick? What are we to think of such a shocking metaphor—that is of a hockey mom equating to a pit bull? Or why do moms continue to where lipstick after getting married anyway?

On my side of town several of us kids could not afford anything but skates and a hockey stick. We did not play with the protective gear that the school teams used or even in skating rinks that had the side fences. And our moms did not come pick us up and drive us home. We walked. But we never pretended to be pit bulls either. We just played our form of poor kid hockey because it was fun and exciting.

Now I must confess that I would be a bit trepid about putting lipstick to a pit bull. It just seems to personal a thing to do. But who knows—maybe dogs, supposedly female curs, in general, would take to a new glamour look—-or at least one could think poodles might consider trying the competitive shtick?

After all dogs are competitive for attention just like humans—but let us hope they don’t get bent out of shape with all those diets, and makeup expenditures, and plastic surgery, and lipo-suction, and anti-depressants, and feminist diatribes about the abuse of women in general. That could be a bit much—kind of like an animal farm parody.

Still one has to believe in the great scheme of things in this huge universe of stellar constellations that a contest of the best picture of a pit bull or dog in general, or even a pig, wearing lipstick, and perhaps an Easter bonnet, could be a positive assertion of animal rights—-that is that animals have the right to be wicked and wenchy?

So how about regional or city contests leading to a national championship of the best pit bull in lipstick contest with finalist in a video for YouTube? Or at least a Halloween costume masks of pit bulls with lipstick rather than blood on the chagrin? Or better yet costume parties for dogs? That would be fun like the pumpkin shooting contests we use to have in Schultz’ neck of the woods around Thanksgiving-–and giving thanks we had better be come turkey day?

Therefore: “Everything has a moral, if only you can find it” Alice told the bitchy old duchess. See: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and you will know the secrets too!