This is the Not Suitable For Work version of the "POS: Politics/Opinion/Satire (& self-derision)" Blog. If I think there's anything remotely delicate about a topic, it'll go here. (Can't go bursting the advertisers' bubble!)
Wednesday, 30 November 2011
Sex: Love or Power? (A.K.A. An Indictment of Men)
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Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Bigger is better -- Yang version (+ King of Tangential Thinking arcs)
Fess up boys!
How many of you have wished you were bigger? You know what I mean. Down there. Just a wee bit.
"Let's go, Jeannie, pump me up!"
"All right you filthy leprechaun, super size me!"
"Cosmo, Wanda, you crazy faeries -- I mean, my one and only, loving Fairly OddParents -- let me fill them all to the quim, I mean brim!"
Purveyors of phony growth pills, pumps, stretchers, exercises, etc. do global business in the billions. That's right. 100% criminal as it's 100% scam. The only thing that actually works is fairly disgusting and should only be attempted by those who have a legitimate medical need to do so. Cutting the tendons/ligaments (I never remember what the difference is) that anchor the penis to the pelvis effectively increases the (usable) length of the shaft. Unfortunately, you now have to use razors/depilatories on your dick due to the fact that the extra length is made up of the pubic hair skin region. I'm not even sure depilatories are safe for dicks! Also, you'll never twitch again as you groin muscles no longer have anything to pull/push against. Even worse, you'll never again wake up looking Mr Happy in the face, because your new and only direction is dangle down.
Still wanna claim you never thought about it?
Come on! You know you have! There probably isn't a guy out there that hasn't at least once wished for the problem of needing to flip his dick over his shoulder to keep it from dragging on the ground. Practical? Men can live without practical. Functional? Who cares? It's awesomely impressive! For the male ego, it's (almost) all about the first reaction to seeing it that matters. That's right, you gaze upon the one and only, divine Priapus -- worship me! Squeal in delight and let it take your breath away. The fact that many, if not most, women would gasp and flee in terror never occurs to them.
Biology tends not to occur to them either. Scenario 1. First of all, there is only so much that a vaginal canal can take. There is a tipping point where things go from 'filling' to painful as the cervix takes a beating. In terms of width things are a bit more forgiving but there are still limits to what is comfortable and what isn't. No woman wants to have to go through extensive vaginal dilation in order to accommodate you without painful stretching or tearing. Second of all, and more critical, is you only have so much blood in your body. Blood used to congest the erectile tissues of the penis is essentially removed from the blood volume available for the rest of your body. Your body can handle this one of two ways. Scenario 2. Your body will protect your vital organs, especially your brain, and will retain blood volume that your penis desperately wants. End result, you can't get it up. That can mean complete impotence or a seriously limp and close-to-unusable dick. You may have seen this in some of the very biggest adult performers (like Tony Duncan, self-proclaimed "Mr. 18 inches", who in actual fact is most likely only 12-14 inches in length). Scenario 3. Your body lacks a sense of self-preservation and gives your dick what it wants. You have a massive erection, hard enough to drive through armor plating. There is just one problem. You've induced artificial hypotension -- dangerously low blood pressure. At best, you can still have sex, you just won't enjoy or remember it due to dizziness, fainting and blackouts. Prolonged hypotension can result in brain and organ damage and even death. But what a way to go! Right?
There are three possible solutions for the hypotension problem and Viagra isn't one of them (in fact, Viagra would make it worse, ensuring more blood stayed in the penile shaft, and for a longer period of time maximizing your shot at death).
First, you can drink vast quantities of water to increase your blood pressure. The problem with this approach is that you are 99% more likely to drown internally than boost your blood by any meaningful amount. Second, you can increase the volume of your body, thereby increasing your blood volume. This is impracticable at best and unhealthy at worst. You can work out like crazy and maximize your lean mass, but even with steroids (which introduce sexual problems of their own) it is unlikely that you could increase your mass enough to make much of a difference. You could also eat like there's no tomorrow, maximizing your weight that way. Fat doesn't carry as much vascularity as muscle but it still increases blood volume. Unfortunately, by the time you've increased your blood volume enough to support your tent pole you've gotten so fat, read hyper-morbidly obese, that you aren't healthy enough to engage in sex without serious cardiac risk, that is if you can move at all. If you can find Jeannie, Cosmo, Wanda or a willing leprechaun you could always wish for the physique of Superman, or better yet, the Hulk. Perhaps a better wish would be to be two to four feet taller with slightly beefier physical proportions. The proportions part is important because you don't want to be like Manute Bol, you want to be like Shaq, only bigger. That would put you back into proportion with your ridiculous dick and you could go back to using it, providing of course you find a place big enough to put it.
The third and final solution is blood doping. This bypasses the body size increase and instead directly increases the volume of blood. Unfortunately, this would be tricky at best. Injecting the blood before you 'need' it in your prick would elevate your normal blood pressure to hypertension levels and that in and of itself could kill you. Timing it just right, in other words giving yourself wood while you're having significant quantities of your own blood injected into you, well, suffice it to say that the sensation just might kill the mood, fluffer or not. If at this point you are seriously thinking that this might be a viable solution then God help you. You've missed the point. You should be laughing your ass off, not thinking, yeah that might work!
Somewhere down the line, the idea that it might be more important to be the best at using the damned thing enters the dim bulb known as the human male brain, but it pales in comparison to the concept of being a flag pole or Washington Monument. Why? Well, the whole "bigger is better" thing is pretty deeply ingrained in our society. Also, being the biggest is an absolute and can be definitely measured, whereas being the best is entirely subjective. Furthermore, being physically impressive or imposing is just that, being. Being the best lover isn't automatic like being, it's about doing. Being is infinitely easier than doing, and men are nothing if not lazy at heart (no matter how hard they actually work -- those that work do so to satisfy urges that happen to be stronger for them than the urge for inertia, e.g. greed or lust for power). I suppose I shouldn't pile on the men -- there are plenty of lazy women out there, but while it is generally a human trait, I think it is more typically associated with masculinity than femininity. You may choose to differ in your opinion. As an example, who (stereotypically) tends to ask whom for a sammich after sex? If you aren't lazy, instead of asking for one, why don't you go make your own sammich, or better yet, offer to make two?
In general, there are three, and only three, categories of responses to the question, "Have you wished you were bigger?"
Finding a way to use superpowers to both increase food crop yields and widely distribute the food to the most globally needy would be a nice touch. This would help end hunger, and would be a step toward ending poverty as well.
We'd still need to do something to slow population growth. Population is becoming the arsenal of the next war, a war of ideologies. Ethical use of superpowers wouldn't help much here.
Combating climate change would be another good use for superpowers. Actually, it can be stated more broadly than this by using superpowers to mitigate all effects of climate, weather, environment and vulcano-tectonic phenomena.
So far, all of the mentioned hero assistance uses brawny superpowers. There's virtually no limit to the things that could be added to the list by using super-intellect, or as Wile E. Coyote likes to say, soopa geeeenius! Eradication of diseases is probably at the top of the heap, but any advances or innovations that extend life would exacerbate the population issue. Immortality is the ultimate example of putting the needs of the one ahead of the needs of the many and should probably be avoided.
Finally (or perhaps not, problems have a way of cropping up when you least expect them) teaching tolerance and love to every single person on the planet in every language known to man? Likely a lifelong project. This might be the most important boon of all, and it doesn't really require use any traditional superpowers, just heart and soul. (Maybe using telepathy to facilitate communication in any language.) Does this mean that this is achievable now? Probably not. It would require a person that is universally respected and trusted and sadly, even Jesus didn't/doesn't measure up to this requirement. People are just too culturally diverse, competitive and even antagonistic. Maybe someday this will change. The Internet and the Global Village are supposed to be helpful toward this end.
How many of you have wished you were bigger? You know what I mean. Down there. Just a wee bit.
"Let's go, Jeannie, pump me up!"
"All right you filthy leprechaun, super size me!"
"Cosmo, Wanda, you crazy faeries -- I mean, my one and only, loving Fairly OddParents -- let me fill them all to the quim, I mean brim!"
Purveyors of phony growth pills, pumps, stretchers, exercises, etc. do global business in the billions. That's right. 100% criminal as it's 100% scam. The only thing that actually works is fairly disgusting and should only be attempted by those who have a legitimate medical need to do so. Cutting the tendons/ligaments (I never remember what the difference is) that anchor the penis to the pelvis effectively increases the (usable) length of the shaft. Unfortunately, you now have to use razors/depilatories on your dick due to the fact that the extra length is made up of the pubic hair skin region. I'm not even sure depilatories are safe for dicks! Also, you'll never twitch again as you groin muscles no longer have anything to pull/push against. Even worse, you'll never again wake up looking Mr Happy in the face, because your new and only direction is dangle down.
Still wanna claim you never thought about it?
Come on! You know you have! There probably isn't a guy out there that hasn't at least once wished for the problem of needing to flip his dick over his shoulder to keep it from dragging on the ground. Practical? Men can live without practical. Functional? Who cares? It's awesomely impressive! For the male ego, it's (almost) all about the first reaction to seeing it that matters. That's right, you gaze upon the one and only, divine Priapus -- worship me! Squeal in delight and let it take your breath away. The fact that many, if not most, women would gasp and flee in terror never occurs to them.
Biology tends not to occur to them either. Scenario 1. First of all, there is only so much that a vaginal canal can take. There is a tipping point where things go from 'filling' to painful as the cervix takes a beating. In terms of width things are a bit more forgiving but there are still limits to what is comfortable and what isn't. No woman wants to have to go through extensive vaginal dilation in order to accommodate you without painful stretching or tearing. Second of all, and more critical, is you only have so much blood in your body. Blood used to congest the erectile tissues of the penis is essentially removed from the blood volume available for the rest of your body. Your body can handle this one of two ways. Scenario 2. Your body will protect your vital organs, especially your brain, and will retain blood volume that your penis desperately wants. End result, you can't get it up. That can mean complete impotence or a seriously limp and close-to-unusable dick. You may have seen this in some of the very biggest adult performers (like Tony Duncan, self-proclaimed "Mr. 18 inches", who in actual fact is most likely only 12-14 inches in length). Scenario 3. Your body lacks a sense of self-preservation and gives your dick what it wants. You have a massive erection, hard enough to drive through armor plating. There is just one problem. You've induced artificial hypotension -- dangerously low blood pressure. At best, you can still have sex, you just won't enjoy or remember it due to dizziness, fainting and blackouts. Prolonged hypotension can result in brain and organ damage and even death. But what a way to go! Right?
There are three possible solutions for the hypotension problem and Viagra isn't one of them (in fact, Viagra would make it worse, ensuring more blood stayed in the penile shaft, and for a longer period of time maximizing your shot at death).
First, you can drink vast quantities of water to increase your blood pressure. The problem with this approach is that you are 99% more likely to drown internally than boost your blood by any meaningful amount. Second, you can increase the volume of your body, thereby increasing your blood volume. This is impracticable at best and unhealthy at worst. You can work out like crazy and maximize your lean mass, but even with steroids (which introduce sexual problems of their own) it is unlikely that you could increase your mass enough to make much of a difference. You could also eat like there's no tomorrow, maximizing your weight that way. Fat doesn't carry as much vascularity as muscle but it still increases blood volume. Unfortunately, by the time you've increased your blood volume enough to support your tent pole you've gotten so fat, read hyper-morbidly obese, that you aren't healthy enough to engage in sex without serious cardiac risk, that is if you can move at all. If you can find Jeannie, Cosmo, Wanda or a willing leprechaun you could always wish for the physique of Superman, or better yet, the Hulk. Perhaps a better wish would be to be two to four feet taller with slightly beefier physical proportions. The proportions part is important because you don't want to be like Manute Bol, you want to be like Shaq, only bigger. That would put you back into proportion with your ridiculous dick and you could go back to using it, providing of course you find a place big enough to put it.
The third and final solution is blood doping. This bypasses the body size increase and instead directly increases the volume of blood. Unfortunately, this would be tricky at best. Injecting the blood before you 'need' it in your prick would elevate your normal blood pressure to hypertension levels and that in and of itself could kill you. Timing it just right, in other words giving yourself wood while you're having significant quantities of your own blood injected into you, well, suffice it to say that the sensation just might kill the mood, fluffer or not. If at this point you are seriously thinking that this might be a viable solution then God help you. You've missed the point. You should be laughing your ass off, not thinking, yeah that might work!
Somewhere down the line, the idea that it might be more important to be the best at using the damned thing enters the dim bulb known as the human male brain, but it pales in comparison to the concept of being a flag pole or Washington Monument. Why? Well, the whole "bigger is better" thing is pretty deeply ingrained in our society. Also, being the biggest is an absolute and can be definitely measured, whereas being the best is entirely subjective. Furthermore, being physically impressive or imposing is just that, being. Being the best lover isn't automatic like being, it's about doing. Being is infinitely easier than doing, and men are nothing if not lazy at heart (no matter how hard they actually work -- those that work do so to satisfy urges that happen to be stronger for them than the urge for inertia, e.g. greed or lust for power). I suppose I shouldn't pile on the men -- there are plenty of lazy women out there, but while it is generally a human trait, I think it is more typically associated with masculinity than femininity. You may choose to differ in your opinion. As an example, who (stereotypically) tends to ask whom for a sammich after sex? If you aren't lazy, instead of asking for one, why don't you go make your own sammich, or better yet, offer to make two?
In general, there are three, and only three, categories of responses to the question, "Have you wished you were bigger?"
- "God yes!"
- "Are you kidding? I need to be smaller! Too many problems! I'm too big for my woman now!"
- Lies. Flat out lies, or lies to yourself.
Come on, there has to be at least one man on the planet that is satisfied! Maybe. Maybe he's a myth. However, it has been my experience that people who have what they need always want more. So, I tend to believe that even well-paid, top-tier, hard-working porn stars wish they were bigger, if for no other reason than for a competitive advantage over other actors vying for the same roles. And pretty much as a continuum, they go on thinking that until they've crossed over, gone too far, seen the grass on the other side of the fence up close and wish they could go back.
What else is new? Satisfaction is an elusive state for humanity. We set goals, achieve them, and then instead of being satisfied, set new goals. We call this many things. Continuous improvement. Bettering yourself. Striving. Achievement. Progress. Aspiration. Seeking status. What do we call it when people don't upwardly adjust their goals and expectations? Settling. Underachievement. I believe God designed us for happiness but somewhere down the line we screwed it up and don't quite know how to get it back. But that gets us into politics and this is a decidedly apolitical post.
Have I wished I was bigger? You bet! But not quite the same way.
First, I wasn't into an increase in size as much as I was into an increase in flow. I wanted to be able to produce enough spunk to wallpaper a mansion, and I expected to be able to do this as many times a day as I could ever desire. Not only should there be massive flow, but each orgasm should paste the walls (no matter how far away) in preparation for that wallpapering. And let's not leave out the ceiling, gotta give it some love. If I could fill an Olympic-sized swimming pool daily, that would be cool.
Is this practical? Hell no! Just consider the cleaning bills! The sheer number of times that people would slip and fall on slippery pools of ejaculate would make liability insurance impossible to afford. An ambulance chasing shyster would set up a new branch office next door. Condoms would be no help, rather they'd be completely pointless -- they just wouldn't be able to contain either of the volume or the pressure. Further, this would lead to a very lonely existence. Why? On a poor health day, or say the 100th orgasm of the day, a blowjob would only result in drowning. Anything more than that would completely explode her head. Internal jacking would likely do the same thing. If every partner is a 'wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am-see-you-at-your-funeral' then there's no chance for afterglow snuggling or pillow talk, and I'd say that's lonely. Also, if you want kids, your only option would be in vitro. (I suppose you could just collect choad from the floor, walls & ceilings and shove in home manually, but that sounds both really unsanitary and possibly the most unromantic thing ever.)
So why wish it? Bigger is better, plain and simple. The greater the flow and the farther it's launched the better the orgasm. Why not take it beyond the bounds of reason? It's selfish as all hell but that's humanity in a nutshell. It's what we do best. Thankfully, that's not going to happen no matter how many times I thought about it.
The second way I've thought about being bigger starts where it does for most men, but I'm a creative fucker and a nerd/geek too. I didn't just want to be bigger, I wanted to be Reed Richards, Mr. Fantastic! You know, the Marvel superhero that can stretch himself into virtually any shape and size. (The Marvel analog to DC's Plastic-Man.)
First, I wasn't into an increase in size as much as I was into an increase in flow. I wanted to be able to produce enough spunk to wallpaper a mansion, and I expected to be able to do this as many times a day as I could ever desire. Not only should there be massive flow, but each orgasm should paste the walls (no matter how far away) in preparation for that wallpapering. And let's not leave out the ceiling, gotta give it some love. If I could fill an Olympic-sized swimming pool daily, that would be cool.
Is this practical? Hell no! Just consider the cleaning bills! The sheer number of times that people would slip and fall on slippery pools of ejaculate would make liability insurance impossible to afford. An ambulance chasing shyster would set up a new branch office next door. Condoms would be no help, rather they'd be completely pointless -- they just wouldn't be able to contain either of the volume or the pressure. Further, this would lead to a very lonely existence. Why? On a poor health day, or say the 100th orgasm of the day, a blowjob would only result in drowning. Anything more than that would completely explode her head. Internal jacking would likely do the same thing. If every partner is a 'wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am-see-you-at-your-funeral' then there's no chance for afterglow snuggling or pillow talk, and I'd say that's lonely. Also, if you want kids, your only option would be in vitro. (I suppose you could just collect choad from the floor, walls & ceilings and shove in home manually, but that sounds both really unsanitary and possibly the most unromantic thing ever.)
So why wish it? Bigger is better, plain and simple. The greater the flow and the farther it's launched the better the orgasm. Why not take it beyond the bounds of reason? It's selfish as all hell but that's humanity in a nutshell. It's what we do best. Thankfully, that's not going to happen no matter how many times I thought about it.
The second way I've thought about being bigger starts where it does for most men, but I'm a creative fucker and a nerd/geek too. I didn't just want to be bigger, I wanted to be Reed Richards, Mr. Fantastic! You know, the Marvel superhero that can stretch himself into virtually any shape and size. (The Marvel analog to DC's Plastic-Man.)
So, what's so special about Mr. F? He's got to be the perfect lover! (That is, assuming he cares to be. He and Susan Storm have celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary and are still going strong, so I'm going to assume he cares.) (R.I.P. Johnny Storm, 2011) If he wants to look impressive, say in the courting phase, he could fashion himself into a tripod with his middle leg being the thickest of the three (yes, I'm exaggerating). If/when the evening progresses to the 'after nightcaps at her apartment' phase, he can be anything. He can start of huger than huge for the impressive visual treat. In fact, he never has to worry about not matching her aesthetic preference: circumcised or uncircumcised. From there he can adjust things so that no matter who he's with, he'll be the perfect length, perfect girth and even perfect shape/curvature to maximize her pleasure. Are his balls not tickling her clitoris quite right? Add a third and maybe they'll hang just right for her optimum experience. Even better, if he's getting too close to busting his nut but doesn't want to stop just yet, perhaps because she's not ready to pop, he can shrink the girth of his glans to reduce friction, effectively and momentarily taking the heat off himself while still giving her all the stimulation she can handle. (That far down the vaginal canal there aren't nearly as many nerve endings, so it's entirely possible she wouldn't even notice the difference nor appreciate what he's doing for her.) While he's at it, he can be the perfect height for kissing, dancing, holding, snuggling, spooning and any sexual position you can imagine. And then there's his tongue... (I fully expect that there's going to be a huge up-tick in naughty dreams about Mr. Fantastic due to this post, from both gender perspectives.)
Tangent time!
I live in my head a lot, so I've found I'm not satisfied wishing I was Mr. F. I've wished I had every superpower anyone ever thought of, and will ever think of! I suppose that at this point some people would focus on amassing a gigantic financial empire (probably at the expense of others, though they may not realize it), bedding as many [insert plural gender noun of choice here] as possible (gotta stroke that ego), achieving every impressive athletic exploit imaginable (more ego), and amassing enormous political power, if not all of it (still more ego), and then might finally be satisfied. (Stop the presses, a human is satisfied...er, does this person count as human anymore?) Not only do they firmly rule the Earth, effectively they are a god.
I live in my head a lot, so I've found I'm not satisfied wishing I was Mr. F. I've wished I had every superpower anyone ever thought of, and will ever think of! I suppose that at this point some people would focus on amassing a gigantic financial empire (probably at the expense of others, though they may not realize it), bedding as many [insert plural gender noun of choice here] as possible (gotta stroke that ego), achieving every impressive athletic exploit imaginable (more ego), and amassing enormous political power, if not all of it (still more ego), and then might finally be satisfied. (Stop the presses, a human is satisfied...er, does this person count as human anymore?) Not only do they firmly rule the Earth, effectively they are a god.
Me? Not a chance. As I contemplate just what a person could do with all that power, it hits me like a ton of bricks: can you imagine the responsibility such a being would be forced (or at least asked/pressured) to accept? Even if they weren't asked to accept it, the knowledge would weigh down his/her conscience enormously. Personally, I'd be a basket case! What do I do with all this power? I could change the outcome of virtually any event that may ever occur, so what do I do, and equally important, what don't I do.
Eliminating Al Qaeda? That might take an afternoon.
Ending the genocides in Africa? A week, at most.
Ending North Korea's and Iran's nuclear threats? A day.
Cleaning up the nuclear mess in Japan? An hour.
Hell, why not fly every single nuclear warhead into the Sun? The only reason we haven't done this already is the possibility of an in-atmosphere explosion, as occurred with the Space Shuttle Challenger. That much nuclear material being vaporized and distributed at an atmospheric level could conceivably end life on the planet! We really don't know. No such risk when you're using superpowers (that don't necessarily obey the laws of physics) to get them off-planet. Technically, and relatively speaking to the Sun's nuclear payload, that should be a mere drop in the bucket. Still worried that might hurt the Sun? OK, fly out to intergalactic, or even inter-cluster space (as deep as it gets) and detonate them. Just for shits and giggles you could absorb all that energy into your body for later use, like an infinite battery or capacitor. Maybe you have the ability to manipulate the mass-energy equation, E = mc²,.and turn all that energy into a mass of any substance(s) you need. Being able to see in all spectra and automatically detect or prevent lies (either with super-senses or Wonder Woman's magic lasso) would pretty much prevent any rogue nation from holding out and keeping a few nukes in reserve. (I'd hesitate before tossing them into a black hole because we really don't know what that would do, be it immediately or down the line.)
And for the next trip, take all, and I mean all, the toxic and nuclear waste that has been dumped worldwide and relocate it to, say, Pluto? An extra-solar body would be another good choice for 'host'. This would take a while.
Doing the same for all the other types of pollution would take way more time. I will acknowledge that the ethics of dumping our problems off-world, even on completely lifeless orbs, is questionable.
Doing the same for all the other types of pollution would take way more time. I will acknowledge that the ethics of dumping our problems off-world, even on completely lifeless orbs, is questionable.
Finding a way to use superpowers to both increase food crop yields and widely distribute the food to the most globally needy would be a nice touch. This would help end hunger, and would be a step toward ending poverty as well.
We'd still need to do something to slow population growth. Population is becoming the arsenal of the next war, a war of ideologies. Ethical use of superpowers wouldn't help much here.
Combating climate change would be another good use for superpowers. Actually, it can be stated more broadly than this by using superpowers to mitigate all effects of climate, weather, environment and vulcano-tectonic phenomena.
So far, all of the mentioned hero assistance uses brawny superpowers. There's virtually no limit to the things that could be added to the list by using super-intellect, or as Wile E. Coyote likes to say, soopa geeeenius! Eradication of diseases is probably at the top of the heap, but any advances or innovations that extend life would exacerbate the population issue. Immortality is the ultimate example of putting the needs of the one ahead of the needs of the many and should probably be avoided.
Finally (or perhaps not, problems have a way of cropping up when you least expect them) teaching tolerance and love to every single person on the planet in every language known to man? Likely a lifelong project. This might be the most important boon of all, and it doesn't really require use any traditional superpowers, just heart and soul. (Maybe using telepathy to facilitate communication in any language.) Does this mean that this is achievable now? Probably not. It would require a person that is universally respected and trusted and sadly, even Jesus didn't/doesn't measure up to this requirement. People are just too culturally diverse, competitive and even antagonistic. Maybe someday this will change. The Internet and the Global Village are supposed to be helpful toward this end.
Yeah, I'm all about the responsibilities. You might wonder if under those circumstances I'd leave myself any time for fun, or a personal life of any kind! Would I maintain my old identity as a secret or completely abandon it? Would I even have time to sleep? (I'm assuming I would no longer have any physical requirement to sleep.) I don't have an answer for these questions. It's one of those 'cross that bridge when I come to it' things, only I'm pretty sure I'm never going to have to cross that bridge. Keepin' it real, yo!
For what it's worth, I really do dream this crap. In fact, about a week (I think it was three days, but I'm not sure) before Navy Seals found and killed Osama bin Laden in Pakistan, I killed him in a dream. Trust me, it was much messier and more satisfying in my dream than in reality. While I'm on the topic (i.e. another tangent) you really don't want me dreaming of your death. It tends to happen in short order. Fortunately (?) this only seems to apply to 'strangers' to me. Some names that come to mind (besides Osama) are John Lennon, Samuel Barber and the Ayatollah/Imam Khomeini. I'm sure there have been others, I just don't remember them, and I'm glad I don't -- I don't want these deaths on my conscience, even for those men who could be described as evil.
And then I wake up, or shake myself out of my daydream, I sigh, and realize that this is almost a complete waste of time. (How many trillions of dollars of lost productivity have accumulated over the course of human history due to idle thinking like this? Is trillions even big enough in scope to describe the actual number?) So, I go back to thinking about solving, or at least lessening, these problems from my couch & keyboard. So even then, it's still about responsibility.
Here's to hoping we'll all get over the need to be 'BIG', in every sense of the word, and to finding those elusive solutions. Keep watching this space -- maybe one will turn up.
Here's to hoping we'll all get over the need to be 'BIG', in every sense of the word, and to finding those elusive solutions. Keep watching this space -- maybe one will turn up.
Self Improvement Gone Horribly Wrong
I was bored not too long ago and I followed some random links, and perhaps I never should have. One of them disgusted me so much I need to talk about it. Or more specifically, at it. It was a video and I'm NOT going to provide the title or link, but suffice it to say that any of you could find it with the search engine of your choice and the keywords "penis silicon injection".
The groan I just heard tells me I am not alone in my disgust. I can't get my head around the fundamental questions of "why?" and "why did you keep going?" I also have to ask how this happens to a person! Is there some tragic event involving massive brain trauma? A chemical imbalance due to environmental toxins? Or is it like Lady Gaga says and for damage like this you have to be Born This Way? (Live on CBS version)
I can sort of wrap my mind around the kind of thinking that would lead someone to attempt some kind of 'self improvement'. "Bigger is better" is a nearly ubiquitous mantra in our society. However, nearly all the people I know would have conducted some amount of research and abandoned the project before it began. Well, that's not quite true. Nearly all the people I know would never have let things even get that far! This man may or may not have conducted research, but if he did, it didn't discourage him. He committed himself to a regimen of injecting silicon into his naughty bits on a regular basis, for six years. My first reaction to this is that he should have been committed all right! That didn't happen, so he was free to proceed.
I'm not privy to the process or the progress, only the end result. In the video he is being interviewed and is happy as a clam to pull out his business and show the camera. I'll point out that at this point there are no (human) clams that could accommodate him -- that's if he could get it stiff enough to try and put it anywhere, which I sincerely doubt. His business looks like nothing if not a dead fish (see 'photo' below) lying on top of an undrilled bowling ball. 'Dead fish' is probably an apt description for reasons other than appearance. With that much inert silicon in his member, no amount of spongiform tissue and no amount of displaced blood could ever perk this sucker up -- it is forever a cold fish, hot steel nevermore. It's not just big, lolling and lifeless, it's deformed. Anyone so inclined, and that should be an extremely exclusive community, could stick two chubby fingers down its pee-hole without touching the sides. ::shiver::
I suppose one could grudgingly, and with a healthy dose of doubt, say that his massive scrotum was in some way "Mission Accomplished". Congratulations dude! You have the biggest package on the planet! You've earned the right to hang up massive "Mission Accomplished" banners, strike up the band and pat yourself on the back for a job well done. And just like that other guy almost 10 years ago people will look at you like you're out of your gourd, which you've just demonstrated you clearly are.
Why am I deriding your 'achievement'? Let me cite some of the ways. First, you've now got giant inert nuts. Were you trying to attract prehistoric squirrels? (Somebody call John Leguizamo!) Only one percent of your nads by weight (or volume) is functional so, in the unlikely event that you can actually still climax, your 'blast radius' is going to be zero. Worse, with the extra distance that your spunk has to travel, through hideously widened channels, it'll be a wonder if any fluid escapes at all (without extensive and strenuous manual massage). Second, you have sized your way out of ever experiencing the sensation of having your nuts gently nibbled or sucked on...unless you find a radically larger species with which to copulate and good luck finding any docile enough to suck rather than 'bite, chew and swallow'. On the bright side, should that happen, all that silicon filling in your Twinkie should be sufficient poison to exact your revenge.
Back to trying to understand the abnormal psychology at work here. Thinking about undergoing a change I can see. Proceeding is where I start to get lost. After than I'm in deep space, completely lost. I think we can agree that life isn't always black and white, in fact it's usually countless shades of grey. Taken another way, life isn't about the start point and end point, it's the journey that matters. In this case, the question is, "At any point along the six year duration of the project did you even once consider the nature of progress so far and reevaluate the merits of continuing?" Did you do that and consistently conclude everything was hunky dory and full steam ahead? Or, did you look at this as though jumping off a cliff, where you intended to just keep on falling until you hit bottom and went splat?
It is cases like these that make me wonder about the long term viability of the human species. This is a hop, skip and a jump away from lemming hysteria. It's a short leap of logic from here to complete and total nuclear annihilation because someone wanted a quick tan and it was cloudy that day. Oh yeah, and their microwave was on the fritz -- that was their first proposed solution. How could it not be? "Weird" Al Yankovic himself suggests, "stick your head in the microwave and get yourself a tan", in Dare To Be Stupid (here).
The bottom line as I see it, people this brain dead, or insane if you prefer, never take themselves out without a whole lotta collateral damage. A generation or two ago this could never have happened. After seventeen of the 10,000 steps toward this mad goal the poor sot would have been institutionalized. That would be preferable to the way things work today. Of course, the so called treatment options back then left much to be desired. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. With gentlemen like the one examined here, along with murderers and sexual criminals, especially pedophiles, I just wonder if the Cult of Independence has spread too far, making it too easy for predators and ticking time bombs to operate free of constraints and in relative anonymity.
Yet another thing to think about.
P.S. For you haters who are completely missing the point and are walking away with an impression of "he's just jealous," read my next post.
The groan I just heard tells me I am not alone in my disgust. I can't get my head around the fundamental questions of "why?" and "why did you keep going?" I also have to ask how this happens to a person! Is there some tragic event involving massive brain trauma? A chemical imbalance due to environmental toxins? Or is it like Lady Gaga says and for damage like this you have to be Born This Way? (Live on CBS version)
I can sort of wrap my mind around the kind of thinking that would lead someone to attempt some kind of 'self improvement'. "Bigger is better" is a nearly ubiquitous mantra in our society. However, nearly all the people I know would have conducted some amount of research and abandoned the project before it began. Well, that's not quite true. Nearly all the people I know would never have let things even get that far! This man may or may not have conducted research, but if he did, it didn't discourage him. He committed himself to a regimen of injecting silicon into his naughty bits on a regular basis, for six years. My first reaction to this is that he should have been committed all right! That didn't happen, so he was free to proceed.
I'm not privy to the process or the progress, only the end result. In the video he is being interviewed and is happy as a clam to pull out his business and show the camera. I'll point out that at this point there are no (human) clams that could accommodate him -- that's if he could get it stiff enough to try and put it anywhere, which I sincerely doubt. His business looks like nothing if not a dead fish (see 'photo' below) lying on top of an undrilled bowling ball. 'Dead fish' is probably an apt description for reasons other than appearance. With that much inert silicon in his member, no amount of spongiform tissue and no amount of displaced blood could ever perk this sucker up -- it is forever a cold fish, hot steel nevermore. It's not just big, lolling and lifeless, it's deformed. Anyone so inclined, and that should be an extremely exclusive community, could stick two chubby fingers down its pee-hole without touching the sides. ::shiver::
I suppose one could grudgingly, and with a healthy dose of doubt, say that his massive scrotum was in some way "Mission Accomplished". Congratulations dude! You have the biggest package on the planet! You've earned the right to hang up massive "Mission Accomplished" banners, strike up the band and pat yourself on the back for a job well done. And just like that other guy almost 10 years ago people will look at you like you're out of your gourd, which you've just demonstrated you clearly are.
Why am I deriding your 'achievement'? Let me cite some of the ways. First, you've now got giant inert nuts. Were you trying to attract prehistoric squirrels? (Somebody call John Leguizamo!) Only one percent of your nads by weight (or volume) is functional so, in the unlikely event that you can actually still climax, your 'blast radius' is going to be zero. Worse, with the extra distance that your spunk has to travel, through hideously widened channels, it'll be a wonder if any fluid escapes at all (without extensive and strenuous manual massage). Second, you have sized your way out of ever experiencing the sensation of having your nuts gently nibbled or sucked on...unless you find a radically larger species with which to copulate and good luck finding any docile enough to suck rather than 'bite, chew and swallow'. On the bright side, should that happen, all that silicon filling in your Twinkie should be sufficient poison to exact your revenge.
Back to trying to understand the abnormal psychology at work here. Thinking about undergoing a change I can see. Proceeding is where I start to get lost. After than I'm in deep space, completely lost. I think we can agree that life isn't always black and white, in fact it's usually countless shades of grey. Taken another way, life isn't about the start point and end point, it's the journey that matters. In this case, the question is, "At any point along the six year duration of the project did you even once consider the nature of progress so far and reevaluate the merits of continuing?" Did you do that and consistently conclude everything was hunky dory and full steam ahead? Or, did you look at this as though jumping off a cliff, where you intended to just keep on falling until you hit bottom and went splat?
It is cases like these that make me wonder about the long term viability of the human species. This is a hop, skip and a jump away from lemming hysteria. It's a short leap of logic from here to complete and total nuclear annihilation because someone wanted a quick tan and it was cloudy that day. Oh yeah, and their microwave was on the fritz -- that was their first proposed solution. How could it not be? "Weird" Al Yankovic himself suggests, "stick your head in the microwave and get yourself a tan", in Dare To Be Stupid (here).
The bottom line as I see it, people this brain dead, or insane if you prefer, never take themselves out without a whole lotta collateral damage. A generation or two ago this could never have happened. After seventeen of the 10,000 steps toward this mad goal the poor sot would have been institutionalized. That would be preferable to the way things work today. Of course, the so called treatment options back then left much to be desired. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. With gentlemen like the one examined here, along with murderers and sexual criminals, especially pedophiles, I just wonder if the Cult of Independence has spread too far, making it too easy for predators and ticking time bombs to operate free of constraints and in relative anonymity.
Yet another thing to think about.
P.S. For you haters who are completely missing the point and are walking away with an impression of "he's just jealous," read my next post.
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