“HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!” …that’s what I’d be saying to you if you were here in England, and you had perpetuated your race by having heretofore squeezed a 6lb genetic portmanteau of yourself and whomever’s propagatory fluids had found their way up into your guts 9 month previously. It’s a miracle, a four-times-a-second miracle. But somewhere around the end of the Middle Ages, something went terribly wrong, as humans suddenly lost the ability to spawn as efficiently as they had since the inception of their species.
According to the ‘Malleus Maleficarum’, a 1484 tome on Witchcraft, the ‘Midwife’ was the most dangerous sub-category of harridan, insinuating itself into the confidence of a burgeoning family and wreaking unspeakable havoc on the fruit of their loins before, during and immediately after delivery. Sure as a mucus plug something had to give, and that’s when Man stepped in. After much experimentation into their hounding, torture, buoyancy and flammability yielded the groundbreaking discovery that witches didn’t exist, it was deducted that the pestilence of their machinations could be attributed instead to the devilishness and ineptitude inherent in women in general. In the 1800s men began growing miraculous moustaches, dissecting the sub-mental both living and dead before captivated audiences, brushing aside the “filthy and ignorant” midwives, and pushing towards the intensive and sterile centres of excellence we know and love today.
A nightmare however, was gathering on the horizon. During the rise of liberals, free thinkers, ‘hippies’ and other degenerates in the mid 20th Century women began to salivate once more for that fabled satanic apple that cost us The Garden and question the superior intellect of men. Women once more sought the counsel of wizened old crones and their practical and personal experience of childbirth, squatting and depositing unsanitary little bastards all across the great United States.
Luckily help was at hand, as in the early 70s, down on his luck former professional actor turned male midwife Norman Casserley (whose acting credits included ‘Diary of a Nudist‘ 1961 & ‘Gentlemen Prefer Nature Girls‘ 1963) flung himself into the line of fire, deciding that if these women absolutely had to abuse their children in this manner, By-God, there was going to be a man present. And so it came to pass that he was immortalised in this sizzling counter culture Song Poem.
So, my American friends remember, when you come to honour your “Moms” this May 11th, remember that behind every great mother, is probably a great man that enabled her to become such. Me? Tonight I’m chewing on a stogie and raising a glass of Kentucky Gut Rot to old Norm while watching some sports. After spinning this little ditty, of course.
Excerpt from ‘Diary of a Nudist’ 1961 SAFE FOR WORK!
Excerpt from ‘Gentlemen Prefer Nature Girls’ 1963 NOT SAFE FOR WORK!
Related articles across the web
Chester Whelks is a peripheral figure on the fringes of existence. Predominantly bothering the local music scene of his native Manchester, England, he has a very finely attuned Justice-button, and knows how to call a spade a ‘Multi-Purpose Murder/Concealment Device’.