So we all know I shill a lot of products on here. Frankly, I like to buy shit, and I assume all your other good consumer whores do as well. We’re trained to buy things. It keeps the economy going and makes us feel better because we own stuff… and starving people in African countries don’t. Let’s laugh at them.

 

So what do these elements have in common?

I was looking up resource material for an article on Eugenics (Not the Nazi kind. I’m more of a post-humanist eugenics believer) when I ran across a book titled:

BIRTH CONTROL IS SINFUL IN THE CHRISTIAN MARRIAGES and also ROBBING GOD OF PRIESTHOOD CHILDREN!! (Paperback)

I swear I’m not making this shit up!

So here’s an African American woman, who has obviously self published because no respectable publishing house would allow two exclamation marks next to each other in a title, who’s very against birth control (the most common form of Eugenics, honestly) and she’s trying to sell you shit.

I’ll be brave and admit that not only did I not buy this book, I didn’t even bother attempting to find a pirated copy that I could peruse. I think the title basically tells you everything that’s going to be in it, and this is probably a book that you can indeed judge by the cover.
Never mind the hilarity involved in the price tag alone, if you want a really good laugh, read over some of the comments. Or check out the tags that people have given this.

What’s particularly worrisome, other than the way she looks on the front cover given that this book was published in 2008, and the photo seems to be straight out of the 80s, is that this book manages to go to nearly 650 pages in length. I’m a fan of reading, I’ve gotten through Hamilton’s Night’s Dawn series… But I seriously question precisely how you can get nearly 650 pages worth of this, when the title alone pretty much sums up every argument you can possibly make in this regard.

I’m also thinking given the controversy of the priesthood vis-a-vis children over the last decade that the last thing any one really wants to do is give their children over to said group.

That’s right, I went to see Watchmen tonight.

Now, Alan Moore is apparently really pissed off about this film… Pretty much for the exact same reason that he’s pissed off about the movie adaptions of all this other films. I’m going to be honest here, I haven’t actually read all of Watchmen yet. I started reading it, and half way through book two, heard there was a movie coming out. I thought to myself “Moore always complains about the film adaptions of his books, so this time, I’m going to see the movie first, so what’s a good movie in its own right won’t actually be ruined by the book”. The logic being that if I read the book second, the superior printed form makes me appreciate the movie and the book all the… moore. I will now go out and buy the “absolute edition”. I recommend you do the same. Apparently it contains Moore’s rebuttal to the flick.

Back on topic. What was the big change?

The ending, but other than that… the size of Dr Manhattan’s dick.

See, apparently, in the series, Dr Manhattan has this tiny, inneffctual penis, like Michaelangelo’s David. This is to make some grandiose statement of how amazingly emasculated and ineffectual he is as a human being, even though he’s got all these godlike powers. I don’t know, he managed to pull some tail that looks like Lucy Lawless, only much younger and hotter, and then have a foursome with her entirely on his own. That seems pretty effective as a male to me. But no, apparently the giant dick, circumcised dick, he now sports for the majority of the film undermines all of this, because no he’s fully omnipotent… Which I can’t show you either, because there seems to be some kind of internet conspiracy where not only can I not find his dick in the movie, most of the shots of it from the comic are censored by the bloody Smiley button. This is in juxtaposition to the Nightowl who can’t even get it up unless the chick he’s with has just beaten someone senseless and is wearing latex and CFM high heels.

I actually question how different that is from most guys that watch internet porn in the first place actually.

Either way though, this is what has Moore afroth. Gee man, if you hate Hollywood so much, stop fucking selling them your scripts. You bitched about 300, and complained about how Tarantino was the only person that understood your vision for Sin City. Eisner’s probably glad he’s dead so he doesn’t have to listen you bitching about what they did with his stuff… Not that you’re reading this, but hey.

Seriously, anyone could have told you that this film wasn’t going to be sticking to the original script with 100% faithfulness the moment the advertising team thought it would be a good idea to give out big blue condoms in matchstick packets as a promotion. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that maybe the creation is no longer the sole work of the original creator at this point.

The fact of the matter is that this is a good movie in its own right. Sure, it doesn’t stick 100% to the source material, but you know what? It’s not fucking terrible. It’s actually pretty fucking good. This is nowhere near the kind of textual and theatrical rape that was Michael Bay’s first foray into Transformers (thank the Matrix that the second film is looking half decent).

Fact of the matter is that some films actually are on par with their source material, whilst being radically different. StarShip Troopers comes to mind. The original was Heinlein’s crackpot views on civil service and a citizen’s franchise. The film was an action packed masterpiece on the futility of war with an enemy you refuse to understand. Some movies are even better than their source material, like Blade Runner and Total Recall.

And some movies simply stand up as good movies in their own right, and people would fucking love them if they didn’t say they were based on something, like Super Mario Bros.

Even so, what I believe to be the main point of the novels was still present. That even in heroes, there is no absolute good, and still great capacity for evil. Most of them are amazingly fucked up characters. Rorschach hits the nail on the head when breaking into Dr Manhattan’s joint when he queries why so few of them are mentally balanced and still alive. The greatest hero of them all decides that the best way to save a world is to kill millions, and the only true superhero decides that he has no place and to just leave. Admittedly, if I were suddenly a supreme being, I doubt I’d have enough left in common to sympathise with my fellow man, but the premise thatVoidt brings, that Rorschach can’t deal with, is that what is Just and what is Right can be, and often are, two totally separate things.

Rorschach dies for this because he cannot live in a world that isn’t just. Dr Manhattan leaves (in the film) because he cannot continue to do what is right.

The point is that no adaption will ever be like the source material! The director and D.O.P don’t really know what’s going on in the head of the author, even if they authored a comic that kind of gives a shot for shot run down of how it should go. The film version of Adaptation is proof enough of that.  So long as the core argument or ideology of the original text remains, what does it matter if there are details that are changed? The characters and sequence of events are merely devices for conveying an idea, not the idea itself.

There are some things that it’s not worth getting worked up about when you’re the one that let it happen in the first place by selling away the rights.

A giant blue cock really isn’t one of them.

Yesterday newswires around the world were posting the “strange but true” story of a Russian mechanic who was fucked to death, after two women bet him he couldn’t fuck all day long.

A lot of you may be thinking: “What an awesome way to go!”

Frankly, I think this is somewhat misguided. To follow this rambling post, you may want to go read that article, by the way.

I mean, let’s face it. The goth scene is obsessed with sex. You know things are pretty smutty when off duty stippers go to your clubs because people are wearing less than they are. However, prolonged orgies are not all that uncommon.

I’ve attempted marathon sex before. We got up the 3h42m before it started getting amazingly uncomfortable. For a start, there’s always the potential danger of priapism. For those not in the know, it’s a terrible medical condition where a guy can no longer go flacid. Great if you’re intending to go and find some baby seals, either to beat to death with your gargantuanly engorged manhood or just because they’re soft and furry and still at the suckling stage. Not so great if you’re not an Eskimo. In most cases, without quick medical attention, blood vessels burst and rupture, muscles can be torn, and nerves severely damaged. Gangrene can happen, and quite frankly, guys can die from heart failure as the heart tries harder and harder to pump some new blood through.

That’s just taking the outside factor into account. Let’s not forget that 12 hours of sex… you’re gonna get pretty raw, even with some great lube. The sheer friction alone is going to wear the skin off your throbbing member, like loving rubbing your junk against a soggy strip of 300 grade sandpaper. The smarter folk out there might consider wearing a condom to prevent this, perhaps even a lamb skin condom. This is of no help to the ladies, who are basically being short shafted. For twelve hours. 

Sure girls, it may seem like a great idea because you’re fed up with only getting 183 seconds before you have to deal with extra protein in your hair (you complain about that, but you’ll pay more for “pro-max” shampoo), but it really is just another extreme. Never mind the boredom that’ll set in, there is simply too much of a good thing. There are women out there that can’t stop orgasming… Oddly enough, they’re not enjoying it.

I think that says something.

 

Actually, on second thoughts, this entire post says nothing. I just wanted to let people know some guy in Russia got fucked to death.

A few weeks ago, I posted about the need for a site to anonymously tell someone you just gave them an STD. Well, what if you want to give it to them with love?

Wait, back up a moment. There’s back story here I’m not filling you guys in on.

As it happens, as with most people on the goth scene, I and my partner are people with fairly… eclectic tastes. What constitutes a good time for us does deviate somewhat from societal norms. Our best Valentine’s Day ever included seeing a giant squid, me being given a small robot, and us going to see some live death metal. As we’ve had days like that in the past, apparently I am being remiss by not planning anything as fun, or giving her anything as nice, in return.

So as any good partner should be, I am resolved to solving this problem by giving her some sort of STD… in Plush form.

At first, I was thinking I could take her on a picnic and give her E.Coli, delightfully hidden in the potato salad, but the cleaning would be difficult, and the irony probably lost as we picked bits of felt and rayon fabric off of our tongues. I had also thought of Herpes and Gonorrhea, but as diseases go, they just weren’t cute enough.

Of course, this is all because as a vegan, she won’t permit me to use sensible protection, in the form of a lamb skin condom.

Of course, if you’re considering purchasing for your own loved ones and must go absolutely gawth, what could be a better than Black Death or Necrotizing Fasciitis?