Said beast dug the pens and colouring pencils out of the desk drawer and (after a mere 10 minutes of frenzied work) came up with this minor masterpiece.

Those with keenly honed deductive senses will (if they can drag their bulging eyes away from the horse's spurting mickey for a moment) notice that the "canvas" is a postcard. Reason being – I'm sending it through the post. To myself. Using aliases for both sender and receiver.

Here's the cheery, and fairly innocuous, message from the reverse side.¹

How many pairs of hands, I wonder, will it pass through before it returns to me? Will the faces attached to the bodies attached to those hands register shock, bemusement, indifference or delight? Might it be seized before it reaches its destination? Destroyed by censorious objectors or secretly smuggled home by a Naïve art smut collector? We'll see (or maybe we won't).

RE: The bishop's facial expression – not sure what effect I was going for here exactly. Looking at it again I seem to have given him a touch of weary (self-loathing?) listlessness. A jaded ennui brought on by one session of being pissed on by a (cartoon) horse too many. It used to be fun – now it's merely routine. Ho hum.

1. Address partially excised for reasons of privacy. [back]

It may have something to do with a new blogging project that has "cunts" (phnarr) in the title. It may, instead, be related to the fact that I'm reading a book about shit. Or, it could, simply, be all down to the omnipresent recession. Everything else is.

Anyway, it struck me, the other day, that I'd no idea what the legal definition of “obscenity" is in 21st century Ireland. Could, for example, one be fined/jailed for obscene acts & works? Did “obscenity", as a legal concept, even exist anymore?

In a bid to answer these vexing questions I did what any serious researcher and seeker after knowledge would. I asked my "followers" on Twitter. Follower Crehan pointed me in the direction of the 1929 Censorship of Publications Act – a document that contains the following choice nugget RE: “indecency".

the word "indecent" shall be construed as including suggestive of, or inciting to sexual immorality or unnatural vice or likely in any other similar way to corrupt or deprave.

Before you chortle, roll the eyes affectionately, and say “Ah! The old days!", bear in mind that the above definition is (Follower Crehan assures me) still (still!) the law. God bless the state that, in its infinite wisdom, protects us from the corrupting durtiness of sex. With a stabilising and paternal hand it pours cold waters on our raging mickies. Without it we would, surely, be wanking openly in the streets and rutting passers-by like drooling pigs in heat. Christ…we're filthy bastards altogether.

Later that day, Follower McGarr telephoned me as I chewed contemplatively on an elevenses sausage. Between mouthfuls of meat (waaa!) we discussed (among other things) Alan Moore's Lost Girls, The Daily Mail (but of course), and (for reasons I can't precisely recall) the laxity of tax legislation. All very pleasant and diverting but, with appetite whetted, I wanted more.

So, in a half-assed amateur looky-uppy spirit, I opened a few books. First port of call was Murdoch's Dictionary of Irish Law (5th ed). “Obscenity" led on (as it does) to “Indecency" where the following was found.

Indecency – Any act which offends modesty, causes scandal or injures the morals of the community.
[...]
The publication or utterance of indecent matter is an offence and is required to be punishable by law.

Now I've always thought (Satan-worshiping lover of depravity that I am) that one of the functions (nay, duties) of art is to be unsettling, upsetting, challenging, discombobulating etc. There are plenty of community “morals" that I'd enjoy seeing “injured", and let's not forget scandal-causing: one of the most entertaining acts a human/artist can engage in. Yet, it turns out, such things are required to be punishable by law. Take that hippies!

Where's this post leading? Not sure…but I'd like to veer off on a slight tangent and mention Irish satire. One of the maddening aspects of our national “satire" (and other “subversive" forms of expression) has traditionally been how it's reigned itself in in the face of “Ah now!" culture.

“Ah now…you can't say that". “Ah now…that's not on". “Ah now". “Ah now".

Ah now? Ah fuck off.

The perfect response to (and antidote for) fat-necked Fianna Fáil soul-destroyers, banking fucknuts, The Sunday Independent, and all the myriad life-sapping forces that surround us is not cuddly ("Sure, it's all a bit of fun!") mickey-taking, but properly transgressive and (yes) even obscene "art" (define that how you will). Forget whoopee cushions, let's have some proper bombs. Old-timey anarchist ones. Ah now. Ah now. Kaboom!

Tomorrow I'll kick things off by…let's see…uhm wandering around town in a provocative t-shirt. On it will be a cartoon horse, wearing knee high boots and lipstick, pissing on a bishop. You have to start somewhere.

Conclusion: This, I know, has rambled, raved and meandered. But it's merely a kicking off point. An opening for a chat. Thoughts? Questions? Free legal advice? Over to you.