While listening to David Bowie on my iPod this morning, it occurred to me that the earliest stirrings of sexual awakening happen at the strangest and most unpredictable times.
That's why I'll never let my kids watch Jim Henson's Labyrinth. IMDB describes the plot of this 1986 film as follows: "Fifteen-year-old Sarah [Jennifer Connelly] accidentally wishes her baby half-brother, Toby, away to the Goblin King Jareth [David Bowie] who will keep Toby if Sarah does not complete his Labyrinth in thirteen hours."
The film is rated PG and sounds innocent enough. I mean, it's got Muppets in it for Christ's sake. But what the promoters of this film failed to mention is that the biggest and scariest Muppet appears in David Bowie's pants. The size of David Bowie's junk in this movie falls on the spectrum somewhere between a Burmese python and a Graffix bong smuggled into a Kiss concert in the crotch of a purple unitard.
My parents took me to see Labyrinth in the theater when I was nine years old, and literally the main thing I remember about it is David Bowie's bratwurst. The quizzical horror and confusion I experienced staring at this man's crotch (in the 90% of the scenes in which it was featured) could quite frankly have been enough to put me in psychoanalysis for years. I remember feeling confused and terrified. Why is this man's penis so conspicuous? Why does it scare me more than anything else in this movie? And why is there a little goblin slave whose head is always within striking distance of it?
And so it is that another "I will never do this to my own children" moment presents itself for consideration...