Regardless of what I think, the nudity taking place in these naked yoga classes is none of my concern. The folks in those humid, putrid rooms are there of their own accord. If they're cool with it, what do I care? C'est la vie. My problem is more with the nudity I encounter on a regular basis — the full-frontal assault of male genitalia I must face every day in my gym's locker room. After every workout, I have to bob and weave through an obstacle course of naked, preening men with their rod and tackle dangling about. It's like trying to cross a moving subway car jam-packed with David statues.
Curators note: I think the writer's discomfort with his own body is revealed in his critique of other nudity and causes his to miss the point
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