Denial of Our Animal Roots
May Spell Death for Pubic Hair

  By Jim Berlin

Except for a fleeting fascination at age 12 with “the gorilla woman” in a circus sideshow, I’ve always been more attracted to women who shave their legs, underarms and – when necessary – their backs.

The thing with people, however, is that we always go too far: Fully 50 percent of young women and young men said in a recent survey that they also remove or radically trim their pubic hair. (To limit damage to the gene pool I hope these men and women mate exclusively with one another.)

Humans may be at the top of the intellectual and food chains, but our animal roots are undeniable. We are going to have some hair, and our pubic area is as good a place as any to display it.

But did we stop with hair? Oh, hell no.

What began as an innocent and fairly ancient desire for whiter teeth has become an absurd obsession.

There are people, particularly in TV news and entertainment, who nearly blind us

when they open their mouths. It is as if the sun lives in their stomachs and rises in their throats, back-lighting and illuminating their choppers in an unearthly glow.

Their teeth have become cartoons.

We always go too far.


Are Your Teeth Too White?
Take a Tip from Thoreau

 By Jim Berlin 

Of the 8.7 million species of animals on the planet, only humans are embarrassed by their inclusion in the animal category.

We don’t want to be animals. We want to be something better, and we’ll go to any lengths to disguise our true nature.

Hair on the head is acceptable, but anything sprouting south of our noggins is shaved, waxed, plucked and attacked by electrolysis until our skin is smooth as a baby’s behind.

Teeth, a biological necessity shared by millions of our lower brethren, are another disturbing reminder of who we really are. So now we whiten them. And some of us really, really whiten them.

There are humans who can drive at night without headlights just by smiling at the road ahead.

It does not occur to them that too much of a good thing always becomes a bad thing: Food lovers who run amok become obese, jogging

evolves to marathons and skeletal frames, a nice glass of cabernet becomes a quart of rotgut a day, sex leads to a relentless pursuit of the endless orgasm.

Henry David Thoreau did a lot of thinking while camped out at Walden Pond, and he reduced his best advice for a happy life to this:

“Moderation in all things.”

Those words should hang on the wall of every dentist’s office in the land.