Harrumph File #041 11.07.2010_ Tattoos: stupid, or just plain dumb?

     So you see the title of this week’s harrumph and you say: “You wait one minute, Mr. harrumph-man, that’s just not fair to say that there are only two positions on tattoos:  stupid or dumb.  What about people that like tattoos; they don’t think they’re stupid or dumb!  Just what do you have to say about that!?”  Well, I’ve only got to say one thing about that:  they’re wrong on both counts.  Sorry, that’s just the way it is.

     You see, tattoos were, at one time, solely the province of people that were, well, not exactly the pinnacles of society.  Think back to a time when western men, wearing large pith helmets, and even larger handlebar mustaches, took to the wilds of uncharted South Sea Islands, to the deserts of Persia, to the mysterious dark continent of sub-Saharan Africa, and the exotic plains of India.  Well, how exactly did they tell the friendly natives from the bloodthirsty, human-flesh eating cannibals, before they found themselves in a pot of boiling water?  That’s right, tattoos.  The evildoers always wore strange markings upon their faces and arms.  Permanent masks of harrumphedness that simultaneously frightened and intimidated those that they dealt with…before dinner was served… hahaha.  After all, Tarzan was a good guy, and he never sported a tattoo.

     And then, of course, this horrible ritual of self-mutilation came back to the shores of the mighty British Empire through the good offices of the East India trading company and the Royal Navy.  Who else but those scalawags of history, the pirates roaming the seven seas, would actually want to be tattooed?  Of course, in addition to the usual skulls, swords, and “mom” labels, there was the occasional “P” that appeared on an unwilling arm or two, courtesy of the local Brigadier or Governor.  Sure, maybe those “P’s” can be classified more as brandings than tattooings, but let’s not quibble when I’m on a roll, hmmm?  Once again, it’s the bad guys who end up with the permanent marks.

     Speaking of brandings, how about convicted cowards in the Union army receiving an unwanted “C” on their face, courtesy of the great emancipator during the civil war?  Yep, as you can see, a tat equals “bad.”

     So let’s fast-forward to today’s modern society.  With the emergence of motorcycle gangs in the ‘60’s (I don’t include ‘50’s motorcycle gangs because we all know that Fonzie would never get a tattoo) the ink flowed like blood in the streets.  Now, I’m not one to disparage any particular group of people… especially ones that are heavily armed and organized, but I think that even motorcycle gang members would agree that they’re rather nefarious characters.  I mean, really, that’s the look they’re going for so there’s no need for them to be offended.  And if they are then let me suggest one thing that’ll make everything right:  please substitute the word “ChiCom” for “motorcycle gang” throughout this entire paragraph.

     Ok, so let me get to the point of this harrumph so that motorcycle gang members will realize that I’m actually doing them a service here.  Remember, tattoos throughout history have been used by miscreants to signify strength and power… intimidation, right?  Well, what the heck happened?  Why is it that those evil-looking, intimidating tattoos worn by tough, motorcycle riding, denizens of the dark side, have been cheapened… have been diluted… have been, yes, even overshadowed by “tramp stamps” and colorful vines creeping up legs… “sleeves” depicting scenes from the Sistine chapel… “Charlie Brown”-like zigzags around arms?

     I want to know who that first bimbo was that walked into a tattoo parlor (of course, on the wrong side of town,) and demanded that the hulking needler behind the chair put a pretty little unicorn with a rainbow horn right above her ass crack?  And, I also want to know who that hulking needler was that let himself get talked into starting us down the path leading to the fall of western civilization?

Are you kidding me?

     Oh, I’m going too far here, you say?  I think not.  With tattoos now the new style, the new “urban” art form, just how do you propose we tell the good guys from the bad guys?  Besides that, as tattoos become more accepted as “the norm” in society, these human canvases compete with each other on the elaborateness of their body art.  More and more skin is being inked… all these tattooed 20-somethings out there are turning into Queequegs! (Check your Herman Melville for that reference.) And have you seen some of those idiots out there, usually seen on “Ripley’s Believe it, or Not!,” that are transmogrifying themselves into lizard people?  Tattooed scales, cosmetic surgery to give them horns & stuff… I once even saw some loser with a tail!

     Smarten up, people.  This can only lead to our destruction.  No, I’m not exaggerating this point either.  Remember the explorers from earlier in this harrumph?  Remember how they knew friendlies from enemies?  Remember Tarzan (good guy,) no tats; cannibals (bad guys,) lots of tats?  So who do you think other explorers will see as good guys & bad guys in today’s modern world?  You know, “other” explorers… maybe ones with big, saucer shaped ships… with death ray rifles and transporter beams?  With technology so far advanced from ours that we would be like the dime novel natives of old?  Technology that we can’t stand up to (but maybe I’ll finally get a flying car out of?)  So who will THEY see as friendlies?  Those with natural skin (like Tarzan) or those of you who have chosen to become human monstrosities like those lizard people.   Just sayin’… maybe something to think about before they sell out of bleach & steel wool down at Walmart… Harrumph…