The 1961 movie ZULU opens up with a pagan fertility dance in which naked girls dance before Zulu warriors. I saw the movie five times for that scene alone. I was 12.
This tribal tradition flourishes to this day in Swaziland, where tens of thousands of bare-breasted virgins shake their booty in the annual Reed Dance for the attention of the 15th richest monarch in the world, King Mswati III. The girls see nothing wrong with the rite.
“I came here to dance. I wish the king would have chosen me because it’s nice at the king’s place. The wives live a nice life,” said one 16 year-old dancer vying for the honor of bedding with the soon-to-be 43 year-old despot. All contestants have to be a virgin, which is tough prerequisite in a macho culture favorably disposed to polygamy and teenage sex.
The king did his best to make the girls comfortable by showing off his man boobs.
If he had really wanted to impress them, he would have shaved off his teat hair, but then maybe he would have looked like a fat transvestite, which is never dignified for a personage of royal blood.
King good.
Queen weird.
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