Over the weekend, despite not being particularly active with my blogging duties, I noticed a relatively unusual spike in views:
I recognize that, in the infinite traffic of the interwebs, this level of activity is hardly astounding. At the same time, though, it’s barely not yet noon, and the numbers on on the rise. All because I had to go on a rant a few week’s ago about the full frontal bludity in Watchmen.
Having seen Watchmen, I can safely attest that it’s there. Frequently. Unlike the graphic novel, which largely obscures Dr. Manhattan’s kibbles and bits through selective panel compositions, the movie parades that thing loud and proud. Much to the chagrin of the groaning fanboy sitting next to me, it has a tendency to flop about when Dr. Manhattan walks around, which makes sense. Because he’s not wearing pants. And that’s what happens to your business when you’re not wearing pants.
I must say that I do applaud Zack Snyder for so determinedly keeping the johnson in the picture. I like to imagine long meetings with the animators in which they propose to him various looks for the penis before deciding on the right one; he has to battle with producers who keep wonder why Dr. Manhattan can’t have a Ken-doll crotch or be an ardent supporter of Hanes boxer briefs, and the MPAA is positively having a conniption fit trying to figure out how to rate the movie. I say this not because the thought arouses me, but because I have the sense of humor of grade-school student. I’m terribly mature.
He’s obviously a man that’s comfortable with his own sexuality, and the ample peen screen time ends up being politically charged in that it demands audiences to be comfortable in their own sexuality. The groans and award shifts-in-their-seats elicited from male audience members goes to show that quite a few heterosexual males still have issues with accepting that seeing another man’s penis doesn’t actually turn them gay (although you can easily make the argument that it’s a little bit gay to be searching for pictures of said penis on the internet). I’m certainly appreciative that interest in a blue wang is providing my crazy talk an audience, but, seriously, internet: