Dear reader, as a penis scientist of some renown I feel it is my duty to hold up the high standards of academic integrity demanded by our discipline, if only to defend ourselves from the unfair maligning our fledgling field is continually subject to. That is why I want to bring to your attention–and the attention of our administrators at PRIC HQ–that large portions my “colleague’s” last post were lifted nearly verbatim from the Preface of Fredrich Nieztsche’s Beyond Good and Evil, and nowhere in the post is there anything close to a citation. Not one footnote, parenthetical, or let alone a clumsy attempt to adhere to CSE citation standards. And thus it should be considered wholesale plagarism.
So congratulations, Brody. Your academic suicide is complete. You’ve finally slipped the noose of intellectual dishonesty around your neck, stepped off the stool of scholarly respectability, and struggled through your last breaths of scientific credibility.
Have you learned nothing from our days at U of M? Your little dissertation debacle, and subsequent expulsion? And to pull a stunt like this on my blog of all places. You had to know I would catch you again, Brody. Was it a cry for help? An admission that penis science is “too hard” and your return to the field was a mistake? Or is it just a reflection of the simple truth that everything you do is a weak facsimile cribbed from something or someone else–your “scientific” research, your building routine, the women you choose to love–how deep does it go? How deep do you go? Can one plagiarize a soul?
Clear out your spray-tan booth from the the office, Brody. The real penis scientists need to get to work.
Dr. Richard Cox, PhD.
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, Brody, you want to play science with the big boys? Then that means you’ll have to submit your research for peer review. Fortunately for you, I used my clout within the penile science community to fast-track your latest article for review at the Annals of Penis Science, and I just got their response back today. Let’s have a look, shall we?
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.
In my post about the lesser water boatman I drew a comparison to nineteenth century piano virtuoso Franz Liszt and my reasons for this must have seemed obscure at the time. With this post I would like to explain myself a little further. I also worry sometimes this blog may get too dry and technical with all the hard science, so I’m sure the reader will welcome a brief digression into cultural history and the arts, namely the life and work of Franz Liszt.
But you may object: Richard, like all scientists you must be a cold, dispassionate, narrow-minded “square” who eats plain bran cereal for breakfast, how could you possibly teach us anything about the fiery artistic life of Franz Liszt, who probably ate exciting things for breakfast, like cocaine pancakes with opium syrup. Well, it may surprise the reader to learn that in addition to the research I do here at PRIC, I am also a renowned Liszt scholar, and an all around “Lisztomaniac”. In fact there is a sizable overlap between the penile science and Liszt fandom communities. Why this is, I hope to now explain.
You’re right Brody: I’m jealous. I’m jealous of how little you must care about your reputation as a scientist to be advocating something as dilettantish as your “bigger is better” absolutist theory, a hypothesis discarded by the scientific community decades ago. But yes, in one regard you’re right: the PBR is not an entirely valid comparative tool, however the fact of the matter is that every known theory of penile valuation is flawed.
Really, you have no inkling of how deep this goes, how since the very beginnings of penile science some of the greatest minds in the field have wasted the prime of their lives on the problem only to come away empty handed. I, myself, spent years, Brody–years–in the backwaters of the Paraná Delta and the malarial jungles of Columbia searching for the missing thread that will tie all the evidence together into one unified theory of penis valuation. But there’s always something missing; none of the models match the data. There is some factor or variable I’m not taking account of, something obvious I’m overlooking. But I know I am close. In fact, I have already been there.
That night in Córdoba will forever haunt me. It came to me in a bolt, mid-coitus: the complete theory in absolute stunning clarity, as elegant and harmonious as I always imagined it to be, like some celestial music box belonging to the gods. But then just as suddenly it was taken from me, as if a capricious deity had changed his mind; that I, Richard, was not to be the vessel for this truth. Or, maybe it was just the lowly distractions of flesh–the nameless Bolivian woman, her cheap perfume, the wine. But all the same: gone, like a dream lost upon waking. Now all I am left with is torment of knowing. Knowing that the truth exists and that I am forbidden to have it. And knowing that for those few fleeting moments I was the happiest I will ever be.
Dr. Richard Cox, PhD.