Boob Quake Revisited

Tomorrow is the four year anniversary of the great and magnificent Boob Quake* Day.

For those of you who were out of the loop at that point in time:

There was some jerk guy who blamed massive natural disasters on how women dress; on the ‘fact’ that so many women dress ‘immodestly’, thereby leading wholesome men astray and causing earthquakes all in one go.

Apparently.

Sounds legit, right?

Hearing these claims, then university student Jennifer McCreight joked that we should work together to prove Hojatoleslam Kazem Seddiqi’s** point by . . .  dressing immodestly, for instance: showing our cleavage. The idea took off, spreading across the interwebs like ye olde proverbial wilde fire.

Normally I’d find a request to show off my uncomfortably obtrusive chest offensive, but it was for what I saw as a very good cause:

To prove that there is nothing to fear about women’s anatomy and natural disasters are just that. NATURAL disasters. They are not divine punishments for some perversion that the critics invented.

[Also, dudes***, take responsibility for your action. This may be a little off-point here, but: No woman in the history of ever wants to be raped. So go to hell if you even think that shit’s acceptable.]

So, on 26 April 2010, we set out into the bright sunshine, showed our beautiful bosoms to the world, and waited for the mass immodesty to take control of the tectonic plates.

Our purpose: cause the greatest natural disaster of all time.

Our result: proving that dickhead wrong.

 

Whoopsie!

Boobquake

(my contribution. a self portrait taken at a Starbucks on Wilshire Blvd.)

 

 

 

 

 

*at first I accidentally wrote Book Quake, which is a different event entirely that I need to go invent right now, excuse me, bye.

** the jerk dude previously noted.

*** or persons of any gender. rape is wrong. no matter your gender or the gender of the person you are attacking.

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