Thursday, 25 October 2012

It rubs the lotion on its skin or else Indology gives it the hose again

Western Indology kidnaps a fat chick and keeps her in a pit in its basement. It starves the fat chick and makes her rub lotion on her skin. It doesn't talk to her directly but says 'It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.'
Why does Western Indology behave like this? The answer, of course, is that it wants the fat chick to lose a lot of weight and thus provide a lot of loose skin for its Domestic Science Project of stitching itself a cute skin-suit so as to look real purdy and like mebbe get a date for Prom?
Now I'm not saying Western Indology isn't to be complimented for its Scientific attitude and Christian hospitality to fat chicks. The question for me is whether the fat chick currently getting the hose ever had any connection with India. What if she's from Georgia or Azerbaijan? Would we still care?
No is the short answer. The long answer, involving reading Billimoria on Spivak on Subalternity, is also no. But only the latter is complicit in Hannibal Lecteur's indomitable drive to ingest the inner organs rather than merely wear the skin of other people. Ultimately, Hannibal is shown to be the Superman and gets to marry Clarice. Buffalo Bill, on the other hand, was just a sad loser.
So, in nuce, that's the story of the Post Colonial critique of Western Indology. Except there's a sequel. Buffalo Bill had a twin sister and guess who she's got in her basement? That's right. It's Purushottoma Billimoria desperately rubbing lotion into his skin to avoid getting the hose again.
Karma's a bitch that way.

2 comments:

  1. This is cute. I'm curious about you. I don't find a bio page on this blog. It seems that you must spend an incredible amount of time reading and writing. Where do you get your money?

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  2. What a forward little Miss- or Minx- you are to be sure! Provided you are female (please don't disabuse me) I am flattered by your interest. I'm a 49 year old unsuccessful novelist- you can read my books on Google through the links above.
    There's a saying- 'those who can do, those who can't teach and those who can't teach, write and those who can't ever bring themselves to finish their big novel do free lance editing'.
    I used to teach and still help some mature students with their dissertations but basically I'm a free lance editor- which is like being a prostitute in that you can do a full day's work without ever getting out of bed except editing is far less well paid, more dehumanizing, and carries a huge social stigma.
    There- now I've gone and put you off. Story of my life really. Mum warned me if I didn't lose weight and learn to cook (like there's any point losing weight if you're gonna learn to cook) I wouldn't be able to land a nice girl- a Doctor, or an MBA, or something like that- and that I'd die poor and lonely.
    That's why my favourite move is 'Pretty Woman'. Like Julia Roberts, I too dream of a Client who will treat me with a little dignity, buy me nice clothes and take me to parties and get me a big publishing deal and then I'd like turn up at the Jaipur Literary Festival and when Sir Salman Rushdie says something catty about me to Vikram Seth, I'll just flounce up to them and say something really witty and suave- you know the kind of thing I mean- like Oscar Wilde's famous comeback to James Whistler 'I said "I wish I'd said that" and you said 'You will, Oscar, you will' which is like totally snarky and BTW at least my man-boobs are real even if they do reach down to my navel. So just fuck off back to America you worthless Yankee cunt & like OMG yo' Momma fugugly'
    Properly considered, this verily is all Sahitya's true divyadhvani.

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