Evolution, it’s happening right now, right under our stupid little noses, which will naturally one day evolve the ability to smell color so that the blind can understand rainbows.
But yesterday, Science thought it would share what it had found out about evolution happening a little farther under our noses. Around the area that I’ve often refered to as the “nose of the pelvis”. Ask anyone, that’s what I call it.
Genitals and Science: two of our favorite topics here at Van Full of Candy converging in one handy study. If only alcohol had somehow been involved in these findings it would have been a perfect storm of topicry. But really, when ever there’s a story of the study of the evolution of beetle genitalia, it’s pretty likely that alcohol was in there at some point, and more likely at the genesis of the idea. And not surprisingly when it’s nerds examining groin importance, the first finding is that size doesn’t matter. Predictable nerds. Shape, these minisculely hung lab hermits at Indiana University say, is what matters more in genitalogical evolution.
Now, many of us have seen more than our own particular configuration. Whether it be at he gym, in the pelvic inspection office you work in or at your weekly orgy pot luck get togethers, we’re seen several other varieties of our own style of bits. In those instances when you have seen someone else’s unmentionables, either by unfortunate chance, or by very careful observation finally bearing fruit… crotch fruit… You have likely seen something that both horrified and intrigued you and then horrified you again.
A penis bent at an impossible angle, boggling your mind at what positions this unfortunate might have to maintain in order to accomplish what could charitably be called “humpin'”. Or perhaps labia so out of control you can’t be certain it’s not growing toward you every time you take your eye off of it, leaving you in a horrible position of not wanting to look away, while at the same time wanting nothing more in the world than to look away and burn your top layers of eye off.
Those, are apparently evolved genitalia.
Now, no where in this study or article does it SAY that. The research and findings are based entirely on “data from scarab beetle populations”, but I like to think that I’m merely extrapolating the next obvious conclusion based on my general lack of knowledge and daring leaps in logic that is truly the basis for all advancements in the understanding of our world around us. Only I seem to have the bravery to call these knotted, floppy bits of confusing flesh what they seem to be, a great leap forward in future boning.
According to these findings in beetles, which, as we all know, share over 99% of the genetic markers of humans*, genital divergence between species is noticable in at little as 50 years of “genital evolution”. Which naturally got me to thinking, which generally speaking is never any good for anyone.
The X-Man; follow me on this one. Mutants in the X-Men line of comicy books as produced by the Marvel company, are often refered to as the “next step in human evolution”. These X mans first appeared in the Marvel brand comiced book “The X-Men #1” in 1963, NEARLY 50 years ago. So in addition to the strange and unusual powers that these mutant threats possess, you can add strange and unusual junks in the worn on the outside of their pants, trunks! Just extrapolating from the powers that we know these mutants possess I can probably fairly accurately imagine the horrible mutant penis powers they have concealed from the public. Wolverine and his three metal dongs, springing from his hips on command being just the tip of the penisberg!
It all used to be so easy. We all knew that when the pants came off, everything would work itself out just fine. But now, science tells us that even that is no guarantee anymore. Way to go science, just because you weren’t getting any was no reason for you to go and make me wary of potential interconnectivity issues I may have with the lady friend I bring home after a night of plying her with “get ta know ya” juice at my local alcohol room. How I miss the good old days when my only worry was whether or not she was going to pass out before she threw up on me, or throw up on me before she passes out… Simpler times…
* Likely not true, but don’t quote me one way or the other. But if you do want to quote me, feel free to use this one: “You won’t be enslaving the beautiful Nymphomians TODAY, Evil General Gross! Prepare to be pummeled about the face and neck by the Amazing POWER ROD!”
Just in time for Christmas: the holy celebration of the birth of the one true lord who shall judge us all at the right hand of the father as we pass from this mortal realm to the infinite of our judgement, the folks at American Atheist have introduced America’s new favorite super team:
(Mentoring Youths Trough Heroics Super!)
(From right to left: President Chupacabra, Secret Beard, Power Heart and of course, Aquaman.)
On Earth 7, Doug Parks was just your normal, every day, run of the mill live stock de-boner. He had come from a long line of live stock de-boners and expected he would live the rest of his life, going through the motions of the work a day world, removing the skeletal structure from farm animals for $9.50 an hour before someday retiring to a little place that a life time of de-boning and careful savings had bought him. That is until the day that his entire family was kidnapped by a squishy bag of goat meat that called itself “Vengepuddle”. Leaving the rescue of his family to the proper authorities Doug would go on to receive pieces of his loved ones in the mail for the next seven years.
Seeing that there was something wrong with the system Doug Parks launched a successful Presidential campaign on the back of his blue collar, rags to riches roots. Then, one day while touring an alternative energy facility President Doug Parks was sucked into an interdimensional vortex and deposited here on Mega Earth 1A, where he fights to protect a world that fears and distrusts him.
Dwight T. Eiffeltower was a sickly young lad who was rejected by the Army Corps of Engineers when his patchy, speckled facial hair caused a decorated war hero to commit suicide at a recruiting table that Dwight was simply walking past. Encouraged by a sense of responsibility for the Nine Star Admiral’s death Dwight volunteered for a secret government program that he’d read about on a public rest room wall. Eiffeltower was injected with a top secret serum consisting of Racist Honey Bee Pollen and Haunted Low Fat Milk and bombarded with Gramma Rays. The experiment seemed to be an embarrassing failure as Dwight was immediately killed to death and stayed dead for twenty-eight years.
But finally, after clawing his way out of his own grave Dwight T. Eiffeltower emerged again with strange powers beyond reason and a voice in his head that was not his own. Upon returning to life Dwight found that he had been possessed by the spirit of Nine Star Admiral Beauregard Tinwhistle. Dwight knew that he and Beauregard must use their new found powers to fight injustice where ever they found it, and so was born “Secret Beard”.
Secret Beard has the power to make anyone, anywhere forget facial hair.
While rummaging through a cardboard box full of donations behind an abandoned thrift store one Flag Day, Carlos Arriba discovered a heart shaped amulet glowing with energy. When no one would buy it from him Carlos decided to keep the stupid thing anyway then. Then, one afternoon, while taking a break from urinating on his possessions and screaming at invisible cookie people that he was certain were trying to kill him in the back of the alley he called home, Carlos took a moment to examine the back of the amulet where he found writing in a language that he had never seen before. Suddenly, as if possessed by the invisible cookie people themselves Carlos slipped into a trance, recited the words on the amulet and was transformed into the being known as “Power Heart”.
Able to seek out and destroy bad cholesterol where ever it dwells, Power Heart is the scourge of the Buttery Under World of New Oldly: The City of Whenever. Now, when Carlos speaks his magical oath “No fatties!” he becomes POWER HEART!
And Aquaman punches people with fish.
Together they visit inner city youth shelters, teaching children how to fill out job applications and the importance of adequate tipping while occasionally saving the world from the ruthless machinations of The Orange Bucket and his Legion of Fuck Offs.
So where ever there is three for one wing nights, when ever someone drops their keys into a stripper, how ever somebody forgets what they just came in for, there is just one force to scream for like a lost child in a lost child factory:
A couple years ago, 2008 to be exact (the year 2008, not 2008 years ago, I really don’t want to talk about that time… it still hurts.), I set about on a quest. But before we get there, I guess I should recap it all from the beginning, if’n I’m’a gonna.
In April 2006 I needed a creative outlet. I had wanted to do a 24 Hour Comics Day, but those officially took place in October. Not one to be dictated to by ancient chrono regulators, I decided I would do myself an unofficial mid-year 24 Hour. The result was Happy Valley #1, the horrible mis-adventures of Lloyd the Bear, the unhappiest anthropomorphic bear in the land of Happy Valley, where all the happy things lived. In 2008 Happy Valley #1 made its world debut at Wonder Con, selling literally DOZENS of copies!
In subsequent 24 Hour Comics Days I made issues #2-5 (which I still plan on re-drawing and publishing). Over those stories Happy Valley became less a world where all the happy things lived and more a place where things horrible and wrong seemed to happen every day.
Which more or less brings us back to 2008. In 2008 I decided to give myself a challenge. For the next year my challenge was to write and draw a one page comic every day for the entire year, posting them to my ComicSpace page every day. Many times that led me to staying up to the wee hours of the night/morning to get the task done, but I stuck with it and I made it through, all 366 pages worth (2008 was naturally, a leap year, giving me just that much more work to do.)
I was quite proud of the work I’d done and hoped to some day clean all these pages up and make a book out of it. Unfortunately, not too long after that, ComicSpace went through a big change and I seemingly lost all of my posted pages. Also in that time, the laptop that I’d scanned all of those pages into had died and now all I had was the hard copy originals. I simply didn’t have the will to scan and repost all of those again so that was pretty much that.
Until this morning.
I got a seemingly random, unsolicited e-mail which accidentally informed me that all of my Happy Valley pages did in fact still exist on the internet wwws. So I set out to put my Happy house back in order and spent the entire day re-assembling things in as presentable a package as possible to share with all of your fresh new eyeballs. I think there’s a lot of good stuff there and while some days were more torturous than others, I enjoyed doing it and am proud to have done it.
So check out Happy Valley, take it in in small bite sized morsels, or gorge yourself with 366 pages of goodly goodness. How ever you choose to take it, I hope you enjoy, I’m glad to see it back.
First: I’m the bloody Batgent, guv’na!
Then: Spider-Lad, Spider-Lad, does what ever is not unbecoming of a Spider-Lad to do!
Look, up in the air, it’s a parrot! It’s a sky lorry! No, it’s — Superbloke!
What in the name of god’s three color butt hole is going on here!?
Batman, Superman, Spider-Man. Three fictional AMERICAN super heroes and champions of Gotham City, Metropolis and New York, three fictional AMERICAN cities! So why then I ask you, true believers, are they all now being portrayed in our cineplexes and flicker show houses by a bunch of freedom hating, beef boiling, soggy english twats!?
Just announced yesterday, old world imperialist actor Henry Cavill has been cast to play Superman in the franchise re-boot “Man of Steel” set to debut December 2012. This pasty muncher, best known for his roles in “The Tudors” and the upcoming Greed god epic “Immortals”, meaning unknown to most right thinking Americans, apparently specializes in the portrayal of fictionalized European demigods. And now HE is who will be standing up for all to see as a beacon of “Truth, Justice and the AMERICAN way”?! It is for SHAME!
Now, I realize that I am the only one who is going to be brave enough to stand up to this injustice (league) and call it out for what it is. But I’m used to taking unpopular stands for those who are afraid to speak up against the (masters of) evil of this world. And I say to you, here and now, that this, British actors, with their extra vowels and distracting distortion of god’s American English language, playing the roles of iconic American folk heroes, is nothing short of socially acceptable, twenty-first century black face! That’s right! I said it, and no, I do not believe that I am at all over stating the severity of this slight in even the tiniest little bit. It’s like seeing Spider-Man played in black face! (Not to be confused with black Spider-Man which was played by a white man, but an AMERICAN white man.)
So today, we have boat loads of swarthy British actors, washing up on our shores, carrying with them all of their filth and disease and acting trophies. They smear on a little American accent and toss about “y’all”s and “ain’t”s with the insensitivity of a watermelon grin. These despicable opportunists pause but for only a moment from their usual dabbing of their cheeks with fine cream filled puffed pastry or the swatting away at the unwashed peasantry just long enough to dirty their fine porcelain hands in the art of stealing money from starving American actors like George Clooney, Tobey Maguire and Brandon Routh! They put on the old soft shoe and play act as “Americans” and it’s all forgiven, their grotesque little minstrel show is all accepted as good-natured and all in good fun, when in reality it is a direct insult to all Americans and our very ancient and proud way of life!
If this is all just payback for Robert Downey Jr.’s terrible British accent in the new Sherlock Holmes, fine, we get it, fair is fair, but enough is enough!
And all of this comes, not co-incidentally, as America faces harrowing economic hardship. Unemployment is at a staggering 114% and one in seven American actors is forcibly fed to the other six to ensure the very survival of the species! Yet now in our most dire of need, elitist, effeminate, atheist Hollywood directors and producers, rather than make a stand and support the fine country that has given them every opportunity in the world to destroy the very moral fabric of our society, instead take the liberty to yank down the emaciated Uncle Sam’s be-striped trousers and point and laugh at his once strong and turgid, but now limp and flaccid economy. They are shipping away the last of our entertainment industry jobs to their art house, mayo dipped fry chomping, tea swilling British bastard co-conspirators!
I for one will not stand idly by as the greatest of our uniquely American heroes are swallowed up, one by one, by the gaping maw of the so called “mother land”. I will be protesting each and every one of these abominations until the roles are relinquished from the squishy pale hands of these usurpers and returned to the squishy artificially tanned hands of America’s finest acting forces.
Unless of course they turn out to be really good. Then what can I do?