Supposing the penis to be a woman–what then? Is the suspicion not well founded that all penis scientists, with their focus on size, shape, and physical functioning, have had little understanding of women? That the gruesome seriousness, the clumsy obtrusiveness with which they have usually approached the penis have been inept and improper means for winning a woman? Certainly she–the penis–has not let herself be won, and today every kind of penis science stands sad and discouraged. If it remains erect at all! For there are scoffers who claim that it has fallen limp, that penis science has grown hopelessly soft, more, that penis science has blown its final load.
To speak seriously, there are good grounds for hoping that all size-dogmatizing in penis science, the utter enormity of my own cock notwithstanding, may nonetheless have been no more than a noble childishness and tyronism; and the time is perhaps very close at hand when it will be grasped in case after case what has been sufficient to furnish the foundation-stone for such sublime orgasms as, for example, I have had inside of countless women.
Whence the penis scientists’ obsession with size? Certainly it does not originate in women, from whom is ever to be heard only benign talk of boats and oceans. Nor does nature give it any stamp of nobility–to the contrary, a large, elaborate penis is precisely the mark of a species of rapists and cuckolds!
To we of clear vision and free penises, has there ever been a more damaging superstition than this “size matters”? Does not the obsession with size, for all its apparent glorification of our gargantuan penises and by extension the man who possesses it, simultaneously amount to a seductive denial of our worth as men, and indeed even our massive penises as penises? In this claim, “size matters,” is not the penis in fact made into the subordinate of the vagina, its object of pleasure, its slave? Just how many venomous snakes has this “size matters” smuggled in under its silken outer cloak? Enough! The twilight of this idol has come, and we of the free penis have come to preach nightfall. And then? Perhaps the dawn and the rising of a new penis, glistening and golden–one that kisses us as it bites. Yes! We preach the coming of the Überpenis.
The penis scientist of tomorrow will create new values for the penis, hence new interpretations, hence, a new measure of “size”–no! A measure beyond size. But it behooves the penis scientist to remember that he who fights large penises should look to it that he himself does not become a large penis. And when you gaze long at the penis sometimes it gets hard and looks like it is gazing back at you.
I have little doubt that most of the readers of this blog are disturbed by the recent output of Dr. Cox, and for good reason. So it appears as though “Big Daddy” Dickworth must restore this blog to respectability yet again.
To begin with, do not listen to the hacks that refereed my unassailable article on Cox’s homosexuality. As little Richard himself demonstrates on a weekly basis, the world of penis science is full of petty, backbiting cowards for whom peer review is merely a weapon to be wielded against those few of us who are capable of true innovation.
But of course, such unsupported and unwarranted attacks on my merits as a scientist have persisted throughout my career, always in one dubious form or another, whether it be claims of plagiarism, arrogance, or “clownish stupidity.” I was at first puzzled by this inexplicable and apparently inexhaustible hatred for me and my work as a penis scientist until Dr. Cox’s most recent article “The Man with the Small Castle: The Gorilla Penis.” Then it all came together: They are all jealous of my huge penis.
So as everyone can see, Dr. Cox has been very busy filling this supposedly scientific blog with personal attacks against my character and scientific ability. Rather than lower myself to his level, I wish to elevate myself with my own original, high quality scientific research, the likes of which has not yet appeared on this blog.
Perhaps the first question that pops into the mind of the unscientific reader of this blog is, “Why do these guys care so much about penises? Are they gay?” Luckily, this question need not be relegated to the realm of whispers and rumor, but can be given a definitive scientific answer.
It is clear that my readers have sorely missed me in my absence, and for that I apologize–my duties in the world of professional body building kept me away. I don’t build for a living anymore, but I remain a much sought after judge on the pro circuit. I love judging but there’s nothing like the forty-five minutes you spend stripping down and greasing up before getting up on that stage, ready to throw down a crushing sequence of poses that intimidates the whole room, leaving the judges in awe and the competition despondent.
I always varied my routine to keep the competition off guard, I was notoriously unpredictable. For example, in my 1997 performance which won me the Canadian national championship I started with an understated Front Abdominal-Thigh Isolation, which I deliberately held just slightly too long before transitioning slowly, almost imperceptibly into a coy Side Triceps Display, and then oozed myself into a classic Back Lat Spread and let them soak it in, nice and easy. I held that Back Lat Spread for a full thirty seconds until I could hear the spectators start to murmur nervously behind me; everyone except me was on pins and needles and so, sensing weakness, I spun decisively into the most brutal Front Double Biceps of my career. The audience gasped and I roared and started grinning like Zeus in the midst of a thunder bolt orgy. The room was mine now and I was fearless like a child in his own backyard. I decided it was time they had another Front Abdominal-Thigh Isolation, this time with gusto, so I thrust my pelvis at them forcefully again and again like a free man, and it was as though the energy of a thousand suns was rushing out of my body and washing over the entire room…
The rest is a blur. The audience had submitted to my will entirely, absorbing pose after pose after pose until, towards the end, everyone in the room was panting with exhaustion and close to tears, most of all myself. Finally I summoned the last of my strength for one last Back Lat Spread and walked firmly off the stage without even giving the crowd one final look goodbye. I collapsed as soon as I got back stage. Never have I felt a happiness so deep and complete before in my life as I did when I was lying on that floor listening to the standing ovation I was receiving outside…
I still feel a slight twinge of loss at the beginning of every competetion I judge, but it is nice seeing the next generation of great athletes go to work. This year’s victory came to the highly gifted Frank Jackinbeans. Athletes like him are truly a pleasure to watch. Indeed I hear they are starting to call him “The Bodman” now, though not when I’m around, of course.
Alas, those days are largely behind me, and it’s time to embrace this new phase of my life at PRIC. I see that Cox has kept himself busy filling the blog with personal attacks against my character and scientific ability, as well as making libelous posts questioning the authority and good judgment of PRIC. Doubtless there will be consequences for this kind of behavior, but I don’t plan on wasting another second thinking about it. No, I think it’s time to start doing science again, and I already have a very important project in mind.
Erudite and scientific though his language may be, it does unfortunately appear that Dr. Cox’s analysis of the barnacle penis has, like so many other things in his life, come up short. So that the rest of this article can maintain an appropriate level of scientific objectivity, there is one matter I should clear up now: My brain has chewed your “food for thought” Richard, but it tasted too much like bitter jealousy to swallow.
I primarily take issue with Dr. Cox’s dogmatic assertion that the greatness of an animal’s penis, as far as size goes, ought to be measured by the PBR (this is the penis to body size ratio, for the non-specialists out there). For example, until a few years ago I was a world class body builder (“The Bodman”) and indeed my physique remains outstanding. It would be uncouth to reveal its length publicly, but however long my penis may be, could the fact that I have packed on so much muscle make it any less impressive?
Thus I believe we must drop any claim that penile greatness is simply a matter of having a high PBR. I am more inclined to think that it is absolute size alone by which penises should be judged, and in this case we must indeed cede penile superiority to whales, elephants, horses, and men with penises larger than ten inches.
I concur largely with Dr. Cox’s analysis of the hectocotyli of argonauts, especially in relation to the effect that detachable penises would have on human society. I would like to add only the following observation: There are some human males with extremely large penises. I’m talking penises slightly longer than ten and a quarter inches long measured from the top, and with plenty of girth. If one takes into account not only the mass of such a penis, but the undoubtedly greater power such a penis would have to propel itself through the air, one sees that the sheer momentum generated by such penises could cause bodily harm to the females at which they were launched.
Such a situation would be very detrimental to well endowed males because society, motivated both by concern for women’s well being and outright jealousy, would surely impose harsh laws against the launching of large penises. It would also be detrimental to all women, who would now find their love of large penises conflicting with concerns for their physical safety. As it stands now, any woman would love to be married to a normal human being with a ten inch penis for obvious reasons. However, what if that penis had the tendancy to fly in the kitchen while she is washing the dishes, and bash her in the head?
Eventually, selective forces would drive the human penis to get ever smaller, until women would only laugh cruelly at most of the small penises launched at them. Of course they would only laugh for a moment, and then regain their composure and try to be complimentary, but the damage would be done. The females would have no pleasure, and the males would be shamed and emasculated. Let us be content, then, with our large non-detachable penises.