Today comic books are considered a legitimate and fine art of storytelling. While they may not necessarily be a force for good, they are certainly a force for good profits if Hollywood can successfully turn them into a series of tent-pole films.
Now, however, comic books may again get a bad name and that bad name is: Foreskin.
One Matt Hess of San Diego, a supporter of efforts to ban circumcision in San Francisco and Santa Monica, equating, absurdly, circumcision with female genital mutilation in Africa, has published two issues of the super-hero comic book, Foreskin Man. FM, as I will call him, is as buff as most super heroes and as blond as some of them, and fights a never ending battle against Monster Mohel to stop him from snipping the foreskins of innocent boy infants. Monster Mohel is clad in the traditional Orthodox Jewish wide brimmed hat and sports a tallis around his neck and comes equipped with all the instruments needed for a brit milah. Monster (obviously not his “Christian” name) Mohel is designed to be so ugly and evil looking that he would make even Batman crap in his tights.
Mark Hess has claimed that he is not being anti-Semitic. I assume he has said that with a straight face. I assume he has had surgery to paralyze the muscles in his face.
(On a side note, it has just occurred to me that if Kryptonian males are exactly like males from Earth, and if it was not taken care of before Krypton blew up — and Jor-el and Lara were a bit preoccupied just before that catastrophe — then Superman is uncircumcised.)
Now I disagree with Mr. Hess that circumcision is the “unkindest cut of all” and if I lived in San Francisco or Santa Monica I would vote against the ban, but I must defend his right to bring the foreskin into literature — for I have done so myself.
I find the male foreskin funny — or at least amusing — as demonstrated below in several excerpts from my novel, Blood is Pretty: The First Fixxer Adventure. The Fixxer is a mysterious character who works in Hollywood and is paid big bucks to fix the dire problems of the Show Biz elite. He does this using various skills he picked up while in the employ, it is hinted, of some secret agency. He also does this by calling on the service of a “crew” of talented individuals, including Petey, who still works for some secret agency. Petey is my homage, twisted though it may be, to James Bond’s Q. Petey is a short, possibly obnoxious, certainly loud man, who also happens to be a genius. If I were to cast the role today I would cast the comedian Gilbert Gottfried.
In this first excerpt the Fixxer is on the phone asking Petey to fly to Los Angeles to help him on a case. Just for fun in our fantasy casting, let’s pair Gilbert Gottfried as Petey with Jon Hamm from Mad Men as the Fixxer.
“Petey?”
“Fixxer! How’d 12-72 do?”
“Just fine, Petey, just fine. Listen, how much vacation time do you have built up?”
“Oh, well, let’s see? Two weeks a year for the last, uh, 22 years, that would be...”
“Forty-four weeks.”
“Yeah, forty-four weeks. Guess I’ll add them onto my retirement.”
“Well, sacrifice some of it and get out here. I need you.”
“When?”
“Catch the next flight.”
“Well, I’ll have to talk to—”
“I’ll deal with your immediate superior. Is it still Duckmeyer?”
“No, Fucky-Ducky’s gone. It’s Heartburn.”
“Really? Hillburn? Even better. Got any new, undetectable body homing devices?”
“Have you been circumcised?”
“Circumcised?”
“Yes, circumcised.”
“Isn’t that a matter between a man and his god?”
“Come on, stop kidding with me. Have you been circumcised?”
“Yes, Petey, the good doctor who brought me into the world took my foreskin out of it.”
“Good, then I have just the thing.”
“Dare we go into the details now?”
“No. It’ll just disturb your sleep. See you soon.”
In this next excerpt the Fixxer has gathered his crew — the beautiful Anne Eisley, an actress, the authoritative Captain, on the payroll of the LAPD as well as Fixxer’s, the Fixxer’s “Watson,” Roee, an Israeli of singular talents in the kitchen as well as with deadly weapons, and, of course, Petey — to discuss the covert action he is going to take against the antagonists of the story, ex-motion picture executive, budding world-conquering villain Andy Rand and his henchman, Batsarov. The Captain addresses the Fixxer:
“So you and Anne get invited to Rand’s secret hideout,” the Captain said, “to get some evidence against Rand.”
“Yes. Evidence. Or a witness willing to testify.”
“York?”
“Yes. He has a vulnerable personality.”
“Well, you better have a homing device on you so we can give you some backup.”
“That’s the plan.”
“And it better be a well hidden one. Batsarov is versed in such things,” Roee added.
“Petey assures me he has a good one.”
“Yeah! I have a great one! You want to see it?”
“Petey, I think that can wait until...”
“No, here, look, I got it right here!” Petey whipped out of his pocket something that was 2 to 3 inches long, wrinkled, flesh colored and floppy. He held it proudly in his hand.
“What the hell is that?” The Captain moved closer for a better look.
“A synthetic male foreskin attachment with a built-in flexible nano-electronic homing device. It’s really great! It has an anti-detection chip built in so no electronic scan can pick it up. And, as you can see, it is totally non-detectable during visual inspection. Of course, it only works with a man who’s been circumcised. But as most men are, thanks to the good, hygienic sense of your people, Roee, we find it applicable to 92.4 % of our agents. You see, you attach it with this special glue—.”
“Yes, well…” I had to stop him. He was unzipping his pants. “You and I can go over this tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay. But I better tell you before I forget, it has one drawback.”
“What’s that?”
“While you’ve got it on you can’t take a bath. It might short out. Sponge-wash the penis only.”
Anne could no longer contain herself and began to laugh. The Captain shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Petey.”
“What?” Petey answered still proudly displaying the foreskin homing device in the palm of his hand.
“You are one sick puppy.”
The next day the time comes for the homing device to be attached to the Fixxer.
About 6 pm, just before I was going to dress for the evening, Petey burst into the library.
“Hey, Fixxer, you know, it’s time to put on the homing device!”
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Do you want me to put it on you!?”
“No, I think I would prefer to put it on myself.”
“You told me you were circumcised when you were an infant!”
“I spoke the truth.”
“So you really have no idea exactly the placement of this fake foreskin!” He held it in his hand, its floppy nature a wonder to behold. “I mean exactly how far it should extend from the tip of the penis!”
“I’ll try to figure it out.”
“That’s funny! You know almost everybody says that! But it’s not like a man knows his penis like the back of his hand! So I prepared this little diagram which shows exactly where to attach the foreskin!”
Handing me the fake foreskin, he held up the diagram, which, in black and white line drawings, showed two penises. One was an uncircumcised penis with a dotted line encircling it about three quarters down from the tip. There was an arrow pointing to the dotted line and which extended from a legend that read: ATTACH FORESKIN HERE. The other penis was obviously an example of what the situation should look like once the attachment was on.
“You can use this!” He held up a little silver tube, the same kind that Formula 12-72 came in. “It’s my special adhesive glue! It spreads on easily, so you should have no problem!”
“Thank you, Petey.”
“See, the beauty of this thing is, if you have to go through a strip search, they may look up your rectum, but nine times out of ten, they won’t play with your penis!”
“I’ll count on those odds.”
“Take the little tube of adhesive glue with you, ‘cause it sometimes comes undone! Which is also why you should wear briefs and not boxers!”
“I’ll be sure to pack it.”
“And remember: No baths! Here!”
He handed me a little plastic bag. “What’s this?”
“Skin tight plastic briefs. Wear them during showers. Then sponge bathe the—.”
“Yes, I—I think I’ll know what to do.”
“Well, if you’ve never lived with a foreskin, you may not know proper—.”
“Petey, please. Can I forego the instructions and just use common sense on this?”
“All right! All right! It’s your penis.” He started to walk out, then stopped and turned with one more point. “Oh yeah! You can only put the foreskin on when you are fully erect! Do you think you can handle that!?”
“Well...“ I wasn’t sure Petey was aware of his double entendre. I decided it was best to assume he wasn’t. “I’ll have to, won’t I?”
“Okay! Well, have a good time tonight!”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Wish I was going with you!” There was now a hint of charming sadness in Petey’s voice. “I’ve never been to a fancy ball before.”
“Well, Petey, that was once the case with Cinderella. And look what happened to her.”
Petey brightened up. “Yeah! Yeah! I suppose there is always hope! Well, thanks, Fixxer, for those kind words.”
There you have it. Possibly not as politically of the moment as Foreskin Man, but hopefully amusing enough to divert your attention from the image of an uncircumcised Superman. Which, by the way, I apologize for.
###
If you would like to read the complete first adventure of the Fixxer, you can download the e-book for $2.99 from Amazon or the audiobook version from Amazon Audio, Audible.com, or at Crossroad Press.
No comments:
Post a Comment