Rambling Rhodes

Taking Body Piercing To the

Taking Body Piercing To the Next Level

Last week I made a startling and disheartening discovery. I realized, as I watched people walk by me at the mall, that I am not "hip," I am not "with it," and Heaven forbid, I am not even "cool." And, I apparently won't be any of those things until I succumb to some form of body piercing.

You see, there's a very secret war being waged on the streets of America; and it's a war that's being fought exclusively with staplers and nail guns. The veterans of this secret war can be seen practically everywhere, their bodies riddled with shrapnel in all sorts of twisted and disgusting forms. They'll look you forlornly in the eyes, their faces dripping with metal, like some robotics experiment gone horribly awry. You can only guess what kind of horrors they encountered on the battlefield. But, just when you're going to ask some poor soul about their war experiences, you turn away in horror: their tongue took shrapnel too.

Okay, so there's not a secret war being fought with staplers and nail guns, but there is a current morbid fascination with body piercing that leaves me completely puzzled. I honestly can't fathom the appeal of sacrificing my body in the name of jewelry.
Don't get me wrong, I do find some piercings to be attractive. The ears, of course, are a time tested and approved appendage on which jewelry dangles almost seductively. The navel, too, is a saucy little spot from where a gem can twinkle. Beyond that, however, piercings just seem a touch bizarre.

I guess I can stomach eyebrow piercings too; they seem harmless enough. But, from there, metal protrusions just look out of place. I've seen cheek piercings, lip piercings, and nose piercings. And, I've seen people that feel they have to connect their earrings to their noserings with some sort of facial telephone wire. "Hello, nose, this is the ear. I'm just calling to see how your new job is going working at the ol' factory."

No part of the body is immune from the piercing phenomenon. There are nipple piercings, tongue piercings, and, for the real die hard piercing fans, genital piercings (don't try this at home, folks).

It's just a matter of time before all these pierced protrusions will be wired together in some sort of Pierced World Wide Web. "Hello, navel, this is the eyebrow, how are things going? Hold on, let me get a conference call going with the nipple and the tongue. Whaazzzzzuppp!! Whoa! We lost navel. Someone must have cut the cord."

Unfortunately, the pierced population is the cool population, or so they think. And, since I've never actually achieved cool status at any point in my life, getting a piercing may just be my ticket to acceptance within the pierced crowd.

However, I don't think I'll be able to infiltrate the pierced crowd with something as simple as an earring or a navel ring. Come to think of it, an eyebrow ring wouldn't be drastic enough either. Nose ring? No. Tongue stud? Still not drastic enough. Maybe a good nipple or genital piercing will do the trick. Oh, wait, that's just plain stupid.

No, I think I may have to invent a new and exotic brand of piercing so that I may not only be "cool," I'll also be the creator of a shocking new piercing style.

I can see it all now. I'll saunter up to a bevy of beautiful pierced women, roll up my pant leg, and show off my gleaming new leg piercing--eight inches of cold blue steel punctured through my calf. It will take a brutally sharp stake and a solid strike with a hammer to get the job done, but it will be worth it to hear all the women "oohh" and "ahhh" over my bold new piercing.

But, why stop there? My next piercing will be both shocking and useful. When I drop my drawers and show off my patented butt stud, the world will only be able to shake its head in absolute wonder. In addition to being a guaranteed conversation starter, people will also be able to hang clothing on it like some sort of anatomical coat rack.

Just as the world is ready to crown me the king of all piercing, however, I'll unleash my coup de grace. Curious crowds will gather around, their minds filled with wonder at the odd bulge protruding from my chest. With a flourish, I'll remove my shirt to unveil my fantastic torso piercing--20 inches of polished steel driven straight through my chest cavity, skirting my heart my millimeters. Sure, I'll suffer a punctured lung and life-threatening internal bleeding, to say nothing of the infection inflicted on my internal organs, but what a show stopper. I'm sure to be cool after that, if only for a very short time.

In the end, however, I think I'll pass on the new piercing craze. As appealing as a tongue stud-to-navel connection may sound, it's just not me. "Hello, navel, this is the tongue, I hear you can't stomach the thought of a piercing. Well, I've decided not to get a piercing either; I just don't have the taste for it."

Posted by Ryan at June 8, 2003 11:05 PM