I dreamt that I was in a world where women were free to be funny all the time. Where if they ran and their skirts hiked up to reveal their underpants, it was comical and not scandalous. No one saw London. No one saw France.
I dreamt of a world where falling on the floor brought laughter -- not smelling salts. A world where body parts were for joyous, expressive, uninhibited fun -- not for selling cars. Where a woman’s bodily smells, sounds and jiggles were cause for quick, cheap gags -- not the foundation for a billion dollar fix-her-upper industry. A rich world where a woman’s delighted giggle would be as valuable as her jewels, and her naughty cackle as coveted as her beauty. No one would look askance. No one would gossip.
Oh, for a world where dropping your drawers meant comedy, not promiscuity! I carry that simple dream within me today – that we can create a place on the stage where many women will be extremely funny together. A world devoid of the vanilla caricatures of dumb sex pot, uptight librarian and drab mother, but rather filled with the complex, deep, multi-layered, poignant fools that women can be.
I dream of a world where a woman, too, can claim the job of village idiot, or be anointed as the skewering high jester of the realm. A magnificent world with women clowns! -- Kendall Cornell
