Directory of Lost Causes (By Quentin S. Crisp)

Dorothy

Well, I've just got back from work.



The train journey to and from can be unpleasant, especially in this abominable heat, and when I have to get up at five in the morning after a sleepless night, but if the train is not too crowded it affords me an opportunity to get some reading in.

Currently I am reading The Passion of the Western Mind, which I recommend to every human being on the planet. But I also tend to glance over the newspapers as I pass through stations and pick up a copy of Metro if I see one.

In the headlines today, I noticed a smog alert. I quote:

"Rising pollution and hot weather has led to the first smog warning of the year being issued."

The article ends:

"Two years ago smog was blamed for causing 800 deaths in Britain."

I also noticed a headline along the lines of "Britain on Standby". This was, I think, in The Independent. The article was about a recent report on the amount of energy wasted (and the implications of this in terms of CO2 emissions) because people don't turn off their electrical appliances, but leave them on 'standby', the electric equivalent of idling. What is standby for, anyway? It usually means not having to get up from the sofa to turn on the TV. Really useful!

I'm thinking now of a class I took this morning. One student told me he was in favour of the total ban on public smoking being discussed now in Britain. I think that, rather unprofessionally for a teacher, I frowned at this suggestion. I didn't mean to. It was an involuntary reaction. It's not that I disagree per se, but I think that there's a great deal of hypocrisy at work here. Let's get our priorities right. If we're going to have a total ban on public smoking, I think we should include cars in that. They are, in fact, a far greater threat to the health of the human race as a whole than cigarettes. Of course, the car lobby is more powerful than the smoking lobby, and that's all there is to it.

Anyway, I finally got back home and took off my shirt. (I have been wearing a T-shirt and shirt in the hope that the former garment would soak up any sweat before it got to the latter and caused huge, embarrassing patches as I stood at the front of the class; I repeat, it should never be so hot in Britain that one actually sweats - we should not need air-conditioning.) Waiting for me at home, as I expected it would be, was a CD of the latest studio session of Dorothy (the new name of The Cock). The CD contains three songs - I'm Your Fan, "You Can't Kill Me - I'm a Genius!" and Fat Lady With Beard - all of which are available for download from the site.



I have the CD on repeat play at this moment. It is full of wit and raw energy, and I recommend that you give the tracks a listen. Below I shall paste the lyrics of Fat Lady With Beard, which I wrote for Dorothy not long ago:

Fat Lady With Beard

We've been waiting for the great unveiling
I've been pupating, transmigrating,
Let myself go and stopped shaving.

Now I stand before the mirror on the bathroom scales.
I am a creature rare and beautiful as a whale.

No press release, it happened quietly
All I did was sell the TV
And throw away those glossy magazines,
And when I then awoke and rose to greet the morning
I stood speechless at the shape I was reborn in.

Fat lady with beard
Fat lady with beard
I don't mind, but I find it
Peculiar and weird

Fat lady with beard
Fat lady with beard
I was blind, but now I find
My inner beauty has appeared

And if you want me to be
Filthy and lewd
Well, for you, I'll see what I can do.
But before we begin with the sin
I must remind you I'm not thin
And I'm prac-ti-cally virgin

So excuse me if I giggle like a nun
As my buttons come undone
One by one
And I dribble all your moody, manly loving
Down my chin.

I'm beyond the jurisdiction of your
Fashionable restrictions, and what's more,
I am free - happy to be ignored.
If you want to know what's in, I'm not on the list.
But life's bigger on the outside, here, without your prejudice.

Everywhere I go there are some who stop
And stare. I don't mind though, 'cause I know
Among the dropping jaws are blokes
Who want me to drop my drawers, their eyes wide in awe,
I'm sure they want to run their fingers through my facial hair.

Fat lady with beard etc.

And trundling around town
In my maternity gown
As rotund as the sun,
How can I feel down?
In my flowery maternity gown
With the sun in my belly,
How can I feel down?