Interestingly enough, Spider-Man's origin story does not specifically mention any changes to his genitals. We do know that he grew much stronger overall (possibly relevant) and that he can stick to things (definitely relevant). It's not only his hands and feet that can stick to walls, it's his entire body (we've seen Spidey prevent his mask from being pulled off by making his face sticky). Essentially, this means he can lift large objects, like a briefcase or some lumber, with his super-strong penis. This has rarely come up in the comic.
As seen in the recent film The Wolverine, old James Howlett (aka Logan, aka Wolverine) can regenerate any part of his body, including his bones, and including his boners. Much like his claws, were his phallus to be chopped off, he would quickly grow a new one. Wolverine should consider himself lucky that the Weapon X project didn't simply use him as a factory for creating infinite transplant dicks to sell to victims of unfortunate accidents.
This mutant stands 9'5" and 1900 pounds. Either his penis is proportional to his body, and thus hilariously too large to be sexually practical, or it is an average human penis size, and thus hilariously too small for his giant body. In either case, it's hilarious, which explains why he's so pissed off all the time.
The Destroyer of Planets, Lord Galactus, is not actually a Caucasian man in armor who stands taller than the planet Earth. The way he appears is subjective to the observer, and most comics writers are White men. Skrulls would see him as a giant Skrull in armor. His junk is as large as you imagine it, and the answer will reveal things you never knew about yourself.
It's purple, right?
M.O.D.O.K.'s proportions lend themselves to a strange naked body under all that armor, so one might wonder what his M.O.D.I.K. looks like. But do not Google "MODOK without armor" or you will see a fan-made comic in which a naked M.O.D.O.K. smooches women in a hot tub. You will not un-see this image.
Where is his dick?
Compared to the Thing's probably-rocky Little Thing and the Human Torch's likely-to-ignite-upon-excitement...lower torch, Mr. Fantastic got the best deal when it comes to cosmic radiation penis mutation. In addition to being able to stretch his member to any size, Reed Richards can most likely contort it in a variety of shapes and directions, as he does with his weird neck and arms. Plus, he could easily have sex in the bedroom and work in the lab at the same time. Efficient!
You thought you were worried about shrinkage!
The superhero penis question begins and ends with the Hulk. The initial thought process goes like this:
"How come Bruce Banner's shorts turn purple when he transforms? Wait, why don't his pants tear off like the rest of his clothes? Oh, so you don't see his- WAIT, WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE?"
Common sense would dictate that the Hulk's dong is green; we can all agree on that. But if it's proportional, shouldn't there be a huge bulge in those shorts that are straining to keep from tearing? With that level of adrenaline, shouldn't he be erect upon transformation? How come the Hulk doesn't run around trying to fuck volcanoes?
"I wanted my Hulk to be naked..." said Ang Lee, director of the 2003 film Hulk, in an interview later that year, "...The Hulk's pants stay on because they want a PG-13 rating."
A grandmother is giving directions to her grown grandson who is coming to visit with his wife.
"You come to the front door of the apartments. I am in apartment 301 . There is a big panel at the front door. With your elbow, push button 301. I will buzz you in. Come inside and the elevator is on the right. Get in, and with your elbow, push 3rd Floor. When you get out, I'm on the left. With your elbow, hit my doorbell. OK?"
"Grandma, that sounds easy, but, why am I hitting all these buttons with my elbow?
What? You're coming empty handed?"
Study: Infantry Battalions Commanded By Females More Likely To Stop For Directions, Arrive Late
JACKSONVILLE, NC — Marine Corps officials released the results of a month-long wargame earlier today, claiming that the study has proven women are capable of serving in combat positions.
The wargame, dubbed Operation Irrational Rage, was planned days after Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta opened combat roles to women. Lt. Col. Jordan O’Neil commanded 3rd Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, tasked with finding and destroying an enemy outpost hidden somewhere in the countryside. O’Neil was chosen for combat command after distinguishing herself by replacing physical training with Zumba classes, outfitting her Marines with different uniforms so no one could argue who wore theirs better, and replacing MRE’s with salads and pints of yogurt.
O’Neil organized a long distance recon, during which she made her Executive Officer, Maj. Brad Gramble, carry her rucksack and open jars. Unconfirmed sources say she also refused to wear camouflage face paint, claiming it didn’t match her eyes.
“She also said her feet were hurting,” said Gramble, “so she commandeered a Humvee but ended up driving it into a ditch.”
Still, there were setbacks.
That night three Marines were killed in a freak bear attack. Only a day later, Private First Class John Metz awoke to find he had been demoted in the night. When he asked why, LtCol O’Neil only responded, “You know what you did.” The battalion was ordered not to speak to PFC Metz until he apologized.
The next day, O’Neil screamed at Maj. Gramble for leaving the seat up on the ammo box used as a toilet.
Finding the objective, O’Neil and Gramble developed a plan of attack. The battalion prepared to attack at midnight but had to wait three hours for O’Neil to get ready.
O’Neil led the assault and won a crushing victory, demonstrating that women are just as capable in combat as men.
To celebrate the operation’s success, O’Neil organized a mandatory shopping trip where everyone was ordered to buy several sets of boots they would never wear. While her Marines shopped, O’Neil sulked and complained nobody noticed her new haircut.
I never understood why they call it "getting lucky" when it has nothing to do with luck…
and everything to do with 3 crisp new $100 bills
These are metaphors from actual school essays - who said the Literacy Hour's not paying off.
McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag filled with vegetable soup.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the full stop after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.
The plan was simple, like my brother Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a landmine or something.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature British beef.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
Issue of the Times;
Why The U.S. Should Rethink Its Ebola Aid Policy In Africa by Oscar O'Reilly
A lot more Africans are going to die from infection with Ebola. At least tens of thousands, maybe even millions, before the virus burns through the most susceptible parts of the West African population.
Do you really care?
I didn’t think so.
The do-gooders out there sense that lack of empathy. That’s why the op-ed pages are filling up with their dramatic depictions of the oncoming disaster, and demands that we—we rich white people, maybe behind the fig-leaf of the UN or something--just do something about Ebola, right now, before it’s too late…like this guy in the NYT the other day:
What is not getting said publicly, despite briefings and discussions in the inner circles of the world’s public health agencies, is that we are in totally uncharted waters and that Mother Nature is the only force in charge of the crisis at this time . . . .
If we wait for vaccines and new drugs to arrive to end the Ebola epidemic, instead of taking major action now, we risk the disease’s reaching from West Africa to our own backyards.
What—you didn’t find that convincing?
I admit, though, that I paused to sort of ponder and admire the boldness of that stupid claim, “Mother Nature is the only force in charge of the crisis at this time.” As if Africans were just passive savages—and as if their culture were irrelevant to all this.
What really is not getting said publicly, even though it is really true—because saying it would seem insensitive—is that the Ebola epidemic is preying upon the particular vulnerabilities of certain African populations. Those vulnerabilities include a relative lack of hygiene in burials and medical settings, overcrowding, superstitions that impede sensible policies, inability to manage quarantines, lack of strong civil infrastructure, and so on.
The Obama Administration, sagging in the polls, is leaning on the CDC to look like they’re taking Ebola seriously—a big banner about it screams from the top of the agency’s home page. But click onto the CDC’s main info article and you read almost immediately that: “The outbreak does not pose a significant risk to the United States.”
I agree that the virus might mutate significantly as it grows in all those human hosts. Conceivably strains could emerge that infect via respiratory droplets. But that jump in transmissibility is widely considered unlikely, and in any case, as the virus passes through more and more human hosts it is likely to become less virulent—because natural selection tends to favor strains that stay in their hosts and keep them ambulatory (i.e., not very sick) and infectious for longer. If African hospital and burial practices were not such strong enablers of transmission, the virus would have far less evolutionary “incentive” to sicken and kill its hosts.
Another thing that is not getting said publicly—and probably will never be said by anyone in the MSM—is that the vulnerabilities of Africans to epidemics like these owes something to the short-sighted “compassion” lavished upon them by the West over the past several decades.
There has been a huge amount of aid to Africa, including medical aid—remember those American hospital workers in Liberia that almost died of Ebola a month or so ago? And yet what has all that aid achieved, other than to stunt Africa’s growth? Paul Theroux once wrote a great essay on that subject, among other things remarking of Malawi where he had been a teacher with the Peace Corps:
If Malawi is worse educated, more plagued by illness and bad services, poorer than it was when I lived and worked there in the early 60′s, it is not for lack of outside help or donor money. Malawi has been the beneficiary of many thousands of foreign teachers, doctors and nurses, and large amounts of financial aid, and yet it has declined from a country with promise to a failed state.
How has aid hurt Africa rather than helped? Among other things it has probably given an artificial boost to the population without improving the culture that, in the long run, must sustain that population—thus making it vulnerable to shocks like the Ebola epidemic. But perhaps the worst impact of all the busy Western do-gooders has been on Africans’ belief that they can grow and manage their societies on their own. “The patronizing attention of donors has done violence to Africa’s belief in itself,” Theroux wrote in his piece.
In this sense Ebola is the West’s responsibility. But if the West were to learn its lesson, it wouldn’t go charging in to try to save the day—it would stay away, now and for the foreseeable future, and let Africa develop on its own, or at least without continued Western meddling. It may be hard for people to think in this coldly logical way now, but—as was the case for the Black Plague in medieval Europe—Ebola could end up being a hugely important motivator for African self-improvement.
Quote of the Times;
“No problem can withstand the assault of sustained thinking.” – Voltaire
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