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16 thoughts on ““Why do all old statues have such small penises?””

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Close-up of Michelangelo’s David

Reader question: “Why do all old statues have such small penises?”

The reader who sent me this felt that it was a question that was maybe too silly for my blog, but – firstly – there are no questions too silly for this blog, and – secondly – the answer to this question is actually pretty interesting.

By “old statues”, I assume that we’re talking about ancient Greek and Roman statues. We’ll focus ancient Greek statues, as they heavily influenced all other small-penised European sculptures.

Laocoön and His Sons, Greek sculpture, Vatican Museum

Laocoön and His Sons, Greek sculpture, Vatican Museum

There are two main reasons why ancient Greek statues have small penises:

Firstly, they’re flaccid. If you compare their size to most flaccid male penises, they are actually not significantly smaller than real-life penises tend to be.

Secondly, cultural values about male beauty were completely different back then. Today, big penises are seen as valuable and manly, but back then, most evidence points to the fact that small penises were considered better than big ones.

Greek bronze, The Victorious Youth, J. Paul Getty Museum

Greek bronze, The Victorious Youth, J. Paul Getty Museum

One of the reasons historians, such as Kenneth Dover in his landmark book Greek Homosexuality, have suggested that small penises were more culturally valued is that large penises were associated with very specific characteristics: foolishness, lust and ugliness. There are actually quite a few ancient Greek sculptures that have enormous penises. Here’s one:

Greek statue of a satyr, Athens Archeological Museum

Greek statue of a satyr, Athens Archeological Museum

Here’s another:

A Greek Terracotta figure of Priapus

A Greek Terracotta figure of Priapus

The first sculpture is of a satyr, and the second is of the Greek god Priapus. Satyrs were mythological creatures that were followers of Dionysus, the god of pleasure and wine. Priapus was a Greek fertility god cursed with a permanent erection, impotence, ugliness and foul-mindedness by Hera. Priapus was actually so despised by the other gods that he was thrown off Mount Olympus.

All representations of large penises in ancient Greek art and literature are associated with foolish, lustful men, or the animal-like satyrs. Meanwhile, the ideal Greek man was rational, intellectual and authoritative. He may still have had a lot of sex, but this was unrelated to his penis size, and his small penis allowed him to remain coolly logical.

Greek bronze, thought to be Poseidon or Zeus, Athens Archeological Museum.

Greek bronze, thought to be Poseidon or Zeus, Athens Archeological Museum.

The Greek playwright Aristophanes summarises this attitude in one of his plays, Clouds, where he writes:

“If you do these things I tell you, and bend your efforts to them, you will always have a shining breast, a bright skin, big shoulders, a minute tongue, a big rump and a small prick. But if you follow the practices of today, for a start you’ll have a pale skin, small shoulders, a skinny chest, a big tongue, a small rump, a big prick and a long-winded decree.” (Lines 1010 – 1019, emphasis mine)

Ancient Greek sculptures are all about balance and idealism. Therefore, it makes sense that they wouldn’t have large penises, as this would be considered humorous or grotesque.

The ancient Romans might have been more positive towards large penises, but their sculptures continue the trend of small penises. Later, in Renaissance art, sculptors were very specifically influenced by ancient Greek art and their small penis size.

A famous example of a small penis is Michelangelo’s David (1501 – 04), a Renaissance sculpture from Florence, Italy. There’s an interesting theory for why David’s penis is so small, apart from the Greek influence. In 2005, two Florentine doctors published a paper arguing that David’s penis was shriveled by fear. When viewed from the front, David’s face actually looks frightened and concerned, because of his impending fight with the giant Goliath. The doctors argue that Michelangelo sculpted every detail in David’s body to be consistent with symptoms of fear and tension – including his genitals.

Michelangelo’s David in the Galleria dell’Accademia, Italy

Michelangelo’s David in the Galleria dell’Accademia, Italy

Classical Greek sculpture has been hugely influential for all sculptural representations of the male body in European art, so it’s no wonder that small-penised statues have been the norm throughout most of Western art history. It also shows that our obsession with penis size has always been there, it’s just changed slightly.

 Complete Article HERE!

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In Defense of My Small Penis

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By Ant Smith

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A study released this week informs us that the average penis size worldwide is 5.2 inches long when erect. According to the BJUI, the urology journal, which published the findings, this should help to “reassure the large majority of men that the size of their penis is in the normal range.”

I’m sure it does, but that doesn’t mean these results are all good news: My life does not change one bit waking up to find that, today, I am only 1.2 inches below average, as opposed to the whopping 1.8 inch discrepancy of yesterday.

I suppose this whole exercise of laboriously measuring 15,521 penises—both flaccid and hard—demonstrates that, as a society, we do still possess the ability to obsess about size. ( I’m open to that accusation myself.) So, whatever else is said, I’m happy that we’re all talking about penis size in an open, honest, nonjudgmental, serious way. Which we all are, right?

And yes, another positive factor—helpfully pointed out by the folk at BJUI—is that those worried about their average-sized dick being small no longer have cause to worry. Because, at five inches, it’s not small; it’s average. From now on, when someone tells you that your average dick is small, it’s abundantly clear that the problem is in their perception, not your equipment.

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However, I’m unconvinced that second point holds up. For the man with penis size anxiety is a man who takes an enormous amount of convincing. Every time he hears a kindly lady state, “That’s not small,” he gives a blank stare and thinks, Thank you. I wish that were true.’

A penis can’t be measured by inches on a stick—a penis is as small as a man’s confidence betrays it to be, or else as small as the imagination of the partner he is with. We see new research emerging regularly, seemingly always driving down the international standard of “acceptable dick.” But this has never helped—and will never help—a single soul.

At the same time, we find ourselves confronted with language like “average” and “the normal range.” This implies that the rest of us are in the abnormal range, a polarization that doesn’t serve anyone very well. A polarization, in fact, that immediately draws my mind to a solemn story of penis size anxiety leading to teenage suicide. Size is not a mark on a ruler; it really is a state of mind.

There is no doubt in my mind that you know a man of around my stature, or less. Think for a moment who it could be. Your dad? Your brother? Your roommate? Wouldn’t you be angry to see someone point a finger at their penis and shriek, telling them, “Ew, you’re abnormal!” Draw upon the strength of your familial and social bonds and recognize this thinking as the trouble that it is.

When a man suffers size anxiety there is only one solution. Enlargement methods (pills, devices, surgeries) will never yield a result that ends in happiness—though bankruptcy, anguish, and physical deformation are definitely in the cards, if that sounds like your vibe. Likewise, comparison to others will never ease a troubled mind; you’ll go mad questioning the veracity of the data or the quality of the interpretations.

The only answer is to accept who you are.

While these surveys may seem to be devised to help that, they simply do not. Nobody quite believes them. At the rate they crop up, saying different things each time, they don’t even seem to believe themselves. They polarize society into those who are normal, and those who are abnormal. Even if they don’t quite encourage an obsession with size, they certainly endorse the idea that size is a necessary concern.

“But I have to feel something,” a lady recently said to me in an interview on the topic. And I quite agree. But I believe technique and imagination can excite a greater response from a greater expanse of flesh than any dick, of any size, could ever hope to.

Complete Article HERE!

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It’s a small world after all

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Name: ali
Gender:
Age: 25
Location: canada
my girlfriend dont waana get maried to me beacuse she is afraid of sex , she hates sex because she think its a disguesting thing like sucking fingering n etc what am i suppose to do i love her how i satisfy her dat we have to marry???

Why would you want to marry a chick that doesn’t like sex as much as you do? That just seems crazy to me. If you think you’re gonna win her over and change her mind about sex by marrying her, that’s even crazier. Loving someone is not enough to overcome this kind of sex aversion. If she’s unwilling to see a therapist to help her through her distaste of sex, then I’d say it was time for you to find another potential bride.

misunderstanding

 

Name: Randy
Gender:
Age: 24
Location: Florida
Is it possible that anal sex can result in increased flatulence?

Ahhh yeah! Think of your ass as a cylinder and your partner’s cock as a piston. All this slamming in and out forces air up your bum. And what happens to that trapped air after (and sometimes even during) the fuck fest? You got it…farts for days. It’s no big thing, all bottoms get fuck-farts. The same is true for women — her pussy is the cylinder and her partner’s cock is the piston. All this slamming in and out forces air into her cooch, producing the very familiar pussy-fart.

Name: Jonathan
Gender: Male
Age:
Location: UK
Hello, please could you tell me if there is a way to increase the size of my testicles permanently, I do shoot a good amount of cum but they are small in the hand and look small in underwear and swim trunks, have you any advice on what I could try,

Hold on there, big fella. What are you tellin’ me? Do you want to increase the size of your balls (testicles), or the size of your sack (scrotum)? You can do the later, but not the former. If you are past puberty, your balls are the size they are gonna be, there’s no increasing them. Your sack, on the other hand can be stretched to increase its size. Will that satisfy you? If so, read this: …don’t let me get too deep. If not, you’re out of luck, darlin’!

Oh, and by the way, the “good amount of cum” you mention, most of that, 70% of it, is not sperm, the reproductive cells produced in your balls. Most of your semen is a mixture of fluids produced in your seminal vesicles, prostate, and bulbourethral glands.

Good luck.

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‘Being a bottom does not mean being bottom of the pile’

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Gay men still face shame and stigma because of their preferred sexual roles, writes comedian Dom Top.

By Dom Top

Hello there, my name is Dom Top. I am a comedian and, more importantly, a bottom. Ironic, eh? You might now be wondering why I’d give myself this moniker. Well, aside from it being kind of a “LOL” name, I also wanted to challenge people’s ideas of masculinity, specifically why the role of “Total Top” is considered manlier by so many gay men.

Physically, I don’t fit the traditional idea of a masculine, powerful male; I am small in frame and light in weight. I have a beard but not a ton of body hair, slim arms but a sizeable rump. I have a strong London accent, but a soft tone. However, I consider myself to be powerful, strong and authoritative, so I don’t fit the wilting, weak popular image of the “pussyboy” passive that many men ask me to be as I bottom for them.

Personally, I’m fine with this contrast. I am an anomaly to many and I play heavily off that in my writing and performances. Hell, it basically pays my bills! But sometimes, when people find my stage name funny, it reminds me to examine exactly why that is.

First off, let’s have a quick look at some of the popular terminology to describe active vs passive sexual preferences. Top: dominant, aggressive, hung. Bottom: sloppy, dirty, messy, hungry, greedy, bucket, cum-dump.

The receptive person basically sounds like a desperate hole for dumping bio-waste in, while the active party resembles Jean-Claude van Damme after a round of testosterone injections. While I’d argue that it takes more strength and bravery to allow someone to put part of their body inside yours than it does to stick it in, it shows me that there is a clear problem with bottom-shaming in the gay community. And it could stem from a perceived lack of masculinity.

A friend pointed out to me recently that you very seldom hear bottoms engaging in dirty talk that puts us in the, ahem, driving seat. Saying things such as: “Did I break your dick with my huge, tight arse?” or “does your eager cock want my strong, firm hole to smother it?” sounds almost alien to our ears. Instead we encourage the violence of the top’s actions toward the bottom; a huge, monstrous cock forced inside a helpless body, ravaging a small sacred place it has invaded, plundering and vandalising it, yet with the victim still desperately craving it. “Yeah you love it, don’t you? You fucking slutty bottom, you want my big, hard cock splitting your little hole apart?” In this mindset, the top is in the position of power. You are weak, he is strong. You wanted it, he gave it to you. Gifted you it, even. You should be grateful for this. You cannot survive without what he has.

Of course, arousal is subjective and if that gets you off, then so be it. Power dynamics can be hot in the right sexual setting. But I’ve found this to be the default setting of many top guys, and it commonly comes accompanied by an attitude of near revulsion at the fact that our arse actually serves a completely different, but equally natural, function: defecation.

God forbid you remind a total top that you also poop out of that hole. Instead we must also go to great lengths to hide this fact and it is, pardon the pun, really quite shit. Douching is already an embarrassing enough exercise, no matter what method you use.

But years of stress and childish responses from sexual partners have, for some, created a mental obstacle so that often they can’t have sex unless given advance notice to clear out their colons an hour or so before, then pop an Imodium Instant for added peace of mind. All to ensure they can throw their legs in the air and not have to worry about a hint of that smell reaching their top’s nostrils mid-coitus, accompanied by a mildly repulsed “I think you’ve had an accident.” A statement which, aside from making you feel like an incontinent granny or helpless toddler, insinuates that you are solely responsible for the “mess.” Well no actually, my sphincter holds up fine when it’s not having the equivalent of a courgette jammed in and out of it at varying speeds.

While probably not originally coined in reference to bum sex, the term “take it like a man” is certainly representative of some of the mentality regarding bottom-shaming. The most “shameful” element of bottoming seems to come from it being associated with the sexual position of heterosexual females during intercourse: the receptacle. The hole. The bitch. The one being entered and invaded.

But there’s a distinct whiff of misogyny here. To the mind of the misogynist, nothing could be as low or undignified as allowing another person to do that to your body. And sadly this mindset seems to pervade many areas of the gay community.

In a world where machismo and muscles are fetishised, embodying a traditionally female role equates you with being lesser, but you’re still expected by many to conform to masculine aesthetic ideals if you want to be desired. In fact, being a skinny slender bottom can, in some places, render you persona non grata. If you don’t believe me, see Circuit Festival.

Of course, I don’t want to generalise. Not all active guys are, for lack of a better term, total arseholes. There are plenty of great guys out there who understand what it takes to bottom and also know how to be a considerate top. They’re called versatile! Seriously though, as I mentioned before, arousal is subjective. And some people will never be comfortable with putting a boy’s banana up their booty hole. But wouldn’t it be great if that didn’t mean they had a total and utter disregard for those of us who actually do enjoy it?

I love to take it in the rear till I’m blue in the face. I’m not ashamed of that fact and I’m not going to let someone else make me feel as if I’m any lesser a person because of it. Plus, in 2017 gendered roles are so passé. Take it like a man? No, thanks. I’ll take it like the proud power bottom I am.

Complete Article HERE!

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Male sexuality isn’t brutal by default. It’s dangerous to suggest it is

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If we start to believe that sexual harassment and rape is a result of the way men are we cede something crucial: the belief that things can be better

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One of the many myths about feminists is that we believe all men are potential rapists – that men are inherently dangerous, their sexuality naturally predatory. It’s an absurd stereotype that runs counter to decades of feminist activism. After all, if you believe men’s natural instinct is to harass or rape, what you are really arguing is that harassment and rape are normal.

It’s true that the seemingly never-ending snowball of accusations against powerful men can feel as if there is an abuser around every corner. It’s also true that sexual harassment and assault are systemic and pervasive. But if we start to believe that this is just the way men are – that this kind of behavior is simply to be expected – we cede something crucial: the belief that things can be better.

That’s what makes Stephen Marche’s New York Times op-ed this past weekend so dangerous. Marche writes that male sexuality is “inherently brutal” and that properly reckoning with sexual assault includes admitting as such. “Pretending to be something else, some fiction you would prefer to be, cannot help,” he wrote.

Marche has a history of sexist writing, from pieces claiming that men won’t share equally in housework because “millions of women are deeply attracted to the gloomy vice of domestic labor,” to articles bemoaning “the whining of girls”. But the real issue – in addition to how offensive it is to suggest that men are naturally predatory – is how this line of thinking normalizes assault and encourages resignation over action. If we believe a particular behavior is innate, it’s easier to dismiss as immovable.

And despite the bum rap given to feminists, it’s actually conservatives who’ve long bolstered “boys will be boys” nonsense that insults men and puts women in danger.

Abstinence-only education, for example, teaches girls that they need to prevent physical affection from escalating because boys can’t help themselves. The right-led protest against women in combat, too, is based on the idea that having men and women in close quarters will lead to sexual assault. Donald Trump himself believes this, tweeting in 2013 about rape in the military: “What did these geniuses expect when they put men and women together?”

And there was no mistaking the Republican defense of Trump’s Access Hollywood tape as “locker room talk”. The explicit message was that men, by default, are horrid, brutal, sexists.

And it’s feminists who are the manhaters?

The truth is that while the vast majority of rapists and abusers are male, they are an extremely small percentage of the male population. So when feminists talk about rape culture, we’re not saying that our country is filled with rapists – but that we make it too easy for them to flourish.

When newspaper headlines call rapist Brock Turner a “swim star”, when victims are blamed for what they wore, or when Nancy Pelosi calls her colleague accused of sexual harassment an “icon”, we are providing refuge to those that abuse others.

All these things are preventable; we can shift how the culture responds to sexual abuse and the way we treat victims. Feminism is built on a foundation of optimism in this way – its work assumes that we can change.

Marche ends his piece in the Times by writing that the only thing that can save us from sexual harassment and assault – “if anything can” – is for men to accept their “monstrosity”. I don’t believe in monsters, but I do believe that we can do better than this. Better than thinking so little of men, better than resigning ourselves to a world where rape and harassment are considered inevitable rather than aberrant.

First, though, we need to believe that change is possible.

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