We then move into the video’s body. We see the XO at his desk simulating masturbation. Here, I put the video on hold for a moment to note that Captain Honors, 49, is often shown with a furry parrot, his plush mascot. The literarily inclined will be reminded of Evelyn Waugh’s Lord Sebastian Flyte and his teddy bear. Students of deviancy will note the suggestion of plushophilia or furry fetishism.
Let’s hit the “play” button and continue the video. Captain Honors is seated in his cabin in a natty, white-piped, Navy-blue dressing gown, cigar in one hand, champagne glass in the other. He uncrosses his bare legs just like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. An editorially inserted blurry patch obscures what may have been a flash of “little XO.”
Then we have a scene of the XO in bed with another man. Could it be the XO himself, his alter ego? Fellini would marvel at this stuff. A condom and some K-Y Jelly are on the night table.
There’s a skit in which the XO is sous la douche with a plastic shower cap on his head—a cringingly effeminate tableau—when he receives a message on his telephone. This causes him to search other showers where he finds two women sailors in one and two tattooed male sailors in another soaping each other up.
Other vignettes feature coprophagy (turd-eating, one step beyond mere coprophilia), a dildo being removed from the head (Navy for toilet), an anal-probe scene in the sick bay, and a man choking his chicken on the commode who splooges simulated semen on his boots. Enough! I can hear the admirals say.
The Navy has sacked Captain Honors. Alas, he’ll never be a rear admiral. As Voltaire said of the Royal Navy, from time to time they execute a senior naval officer “pour encourager les autres.”
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