In the eternally waged war of the sexes, there is but ONE true equalizer.
I had a spectacularly productive day yesterday. I spent a good fifteen minutes gazing out my kitchen window because two squirrels were engaging in gladitorial combat on a telephone pole across the street, replete with feinting, ducking, weaving, and parrying. Then one of the squirrels decided to make a thrilling leap from the telephone pole to the four-story apartment building a few feet away, and I spent another fifteen minutes watching him vertically scale the wood shingle exterior walls and leap onto people's balconies in search of high adventure and/or leftover holiday walnuts.
Then I tried to make further progress in Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel series, and man oh MAN is it slow going. I simultaneously am entirely sick of Phèdre's Joscelin angst while at the same time enjoying the larger plots in each book of the series. I want Melisande to die already, and no, if you're a reader that thinks you look like Melisande Shahrizai, you don't. Really, you don't. Size down your egos, sweeties, because you're not that beautiful. No one is.
There are too many Stregazza for me to care about, Carey shamelessly others any part of the world filled with brown people and OH NOES THE JEWS ARE TAKING PHEDRE'S BOYFRIEND AWAY FROM HER, and Terre d'Ange is a country full of superficial popinjays, with a goodly amount of Sues and Stus numbering amongst the populace.
Yet I find myself loving the supporting characters and loving the world building that Carey does in these books; I find myself taken with the tolerance and beauty of the spirituality and religion in Terre d'Ange (if only America lived by the precepts of "love as thou wilt" - think of the all the pain and suffering that would be alleviated if people's sexuality were celebrated and accepted rather than judged and hated), and I love that Carey writes about a fictionalized version of Venice that simultaneously is paternalistic yet deeply worshipful of Asherat-of-the-Sea. Carey's clearly done her research, so the books are an enjoyable melange of bits and pieces of real life history put together in a macadam and topped with a generous dollop of mysticism and occasional bouts of high fantasy and goddess worship.
Yet Phèdre still annoys me.
Which brings me to Part the Second of this post.
I have found through firsthand experience that sometimes the anecdote to literary irritation is a virtual swift kick to the nerts.
I was very surprised on Friday to find out in a thread on scans_daily that there still exist some people in the world unware of the divinely inspirational Nad Shot. (I thought EVERYONE knew about NadShot.com!)
Nad Shot, for those not in the know, is a website that features nothing but the rich and diverse array of nad damage to be found in comics and television. It's quality nad damage 24/7. (It does feature Frank Castle heavily, though, which only makes sense, given that Frank's a ruthlessly practical fighter.)
There's something deeply just and supremely cathartic about watching a man get kicked in the nuts, particularly if said kick is rendered by a woman. Nut vulnerability is the Great Equalizer of the physical power imbalance between men and women; if evolution has seen fit to make men scream falsetto in agony after a judicious roundhouse kick to the balls, well, women would be remiss not to take advantage of this upwardly located Achilles heel when men are acting like pricks, right? Of course I'm right. This is a Fundamental Axiom of the Universe and no logic can be credibly applied against this principle.
To further demonstrate this Fundamental Axiom, I've purloined some blissful moments from NadShot.com for your enjoyment. Comics, as many of you know, don't skimp on testicular violence. (Particularly if you're CrossGen, Wildstorm, Vertigo, Marvel Knights, any issue of Hellblazer, and every 1.87 issues of any Punisher comic.)
As an introduction, let me first state this: as many of you are aware, there is a Gold Standard™ in the universe for getting kicked in the balls, examples of nad shottery that so far outpace more plebian nad shots that everything else should be rightfully characterized as bush league in comparison.
-
The current Gold Standard for nadshottery is, of course, Eros of Titan getting a full strength kick to the nads from She-Hulk:
For those of you not in the know, getting kicked like that by She-Hulk is the equivalent of getting slammed between the legs by a fifty-ton sledgehammer at light speed. If Eros wasn't an Eternal, that kick would not only have unmanned him, it would have split him in half and sent his head into planetary orbit.
Shulkie regulating on Eros is closely followed by Elijah Snow of Planetary kicking someone in the nads so hard that his ass breaks:
Gentle reader, lest you think that testicular trauma is only caused by hands, feets, and bullets, I have below provided some examples of more esoteric yet deeply gratifying ball damage.
There is the Radioactive Nad Shot, as delivered by Chen Lu of the Thunderbolts:
There is the psychedelic Double Crowbar Whammy as delivered by Jack Knight:
There is the Eminently Civilized Ballwhack delivered by Alfred:
NadShot.com even gave a shout out to one of my very favorite nad shots ever, that being the swift Shao-Lom kick to the nuts that Moondragon once delivered unto Rick Jones:
Rick's crystalline tears of torment are just beautiful.
Let us now enjoy the survey part of the course, shall we?
Not to be outdone by Elijah Snow, Jakita Wagner of Planetary shows a notable lack of inhibition when it comes to fighting dirty.
A most elaborately costumed nadshot from the pages of GrimJack:
Tarantula fucks up Nightwing something *terrible.* Ah, Oracle, I'd be pissed, too.
Balls ground to a red paste from the pages of All Star Batman & Robin.
OUCH. Frank Castle shoots off Logan's face, then takes a baseball bat to his family jewels.
There is the surgically cockblocked nad shot...
...and the smart shopper-blocked nadshot.
There is the Piratical Plundering of Manpain nadshot...
...and the Pump It Full of Lead nadshot:
John Constantine gets philosophical:
While Bane wields a lead pipe for GREAT JUSTICE:
A Kryptonian nadshot from Supergirl should, by all rights, be followed by nothing but screaming for the next twenty pages:
She kneed him so hard between the legs that it made pink lightning.
While a good one-two nadshot is better with sound effects, particularly with Garth Ennis' proclivity for lovingly chronicling every nuance of agony, sometimes strong and silent from Frank Castle will do the trick.
Let us not forget Spider Jerusalem and his self-administered pain.
Now we turn to the Time Traveling Nadshot, Nazi Edition.
For who in her or his right mind hasn't wanted to kick Hitler in the balls? Midnighter steps up to the plate:
Last but not least, there is the Very, Very Tiny Nadshot that is the unavoidable consquence of the physical environment - let's file this one under the Perils of Superheroing:
It's the "My little gentleman!" that makes that last panel precious to me.
Now, I do not claim that this is an authoritative or comprehensive survey of nadshottery, but I do so hope that you've enjoyed this brief field guide to masculine pain. Do feel free to post your own examples!
I know I feel better after looking at all of that. How about you?
Then I tried to make further progress in Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel series, and man oh MAN is it slow going. I simultaneously am entirely sick of Phèdre's Joscelin angst while at the same time enjoying the larger plots in each book of the series. I want Melisande to die already, and no, if you're a reader that thinks you look like Melisande Shahrizai, you don't. Really, you don't. Size down your egos, sweeties, because you're not that beautiful. No one is.
There are too many Stregazza for me to care about, Carey shamelessly others any part of the world filled with brown people and OH NOES THE JEWS ARE TAKING PHEDRE'S BOYFRIEND AWAY FROM HER, and Terre d'Ange is a country full of superficial popinjays, with a goodly amount of Sues and Stus numbering amongst the populace.
Yet I find myself loving the supporting characters and loving the world building that Carey does in these books; I find myself taken with the tolerance and beauty of the spirituality and religion in Terre d'Ange (if only America lived by the precepts of "love as thou wilt" - think of the all the pain and suffering that would be alleviated if people's sexuality were celebrated and accepted rather than judged and hated), and I love that Carey writes about a fictionalized version of Venice that simultaneously is paternalistic yet deeply worshipful of Asherat-of-the-Sea. Carey's clearly done her research, so the books are an enjoyable melange of bits and pieces of real life history put together in a macadam and topped with a generous dollop of mysticism and occasional bouts of high fantasy and goddess worship.
Yet Phèdre still annoys me.
Which brings me to Part the Second of this post.
I have found through firsthand experience that sometimes the anecdote to literary irritation is a virtual swift kick to the nerts.
I was very surprised on Friday to find out in a thread on scans_daily that there still exist some people in the world unware of the divinely inspirational Nad Shot. (I thought EVERYONE knew about NadShot.com!)
Nad Shot, for those not in the know, is a website that features nothing but the rich and diverse array of nad damage to be found in comics and television. It's quality nad damage 24/7. (It does feature Frank Castle heavily, though, which only makes sense, given that Frank's a ruthlessly practical fighter.)
There's something deeply just and supremely cathartic about watching a man get kicked in the nuts, particularly if said kick is rendered by a woman. Nut vulnerability is the Great Equalizer of the physical power imbalance between men and women; if evolution has seen fit to make men scream falsetto in agony after a judicious roundhouse kick to the balls, well, women would be remiss not to take advantage of this upwardly located Achilles heel when men are acting like pricks, right? Of course I'm right. This is a Fundamental Axiom of the Universe and no logic can be credibly applied against this principle.
To further demonstrate this Fundamental Axiom, I've purloined some blissful moments from NadShot.com for your enjoyment. Comics, as many of you know, don't skimp on testicular violence. (Particularly if you're CrossGen, Wildstorm, Vertigo, Marvel Knights, any issue of Hellblazer, and every 1.87 issues of any Punisher comic.)
As an introduction, let me first state this: as many of you are aware, there is a Gold Standard™ in the universe for getting kicked in the balls, examples of nad shottery that so far outpace more plebian nad shots that everything else should be rightfully characterized as bush league in comparison.
-
The current Gold Standard for nadshottery is, of course, Eros of Titan getting a full strength kick to the nads from She-Hulk:
For those of you not in the know, getting kicked like that by She-Hulk is the equivalent of getting slammed between the legs by a fifty-ton sledgehammer at light speed. If Eros wasn't an Eternal, that kick would not only have unmanned him, it would have split him in half and sent his head into planetary orbit.
Shulkie regulating on Eros is closely followed by Elijah Snow of Planetary kicking someone in the nads so hard that his ass breaks:
Gentle reader, lest you think that testicular trauma is only caused by hands, feets, and bullets, I have below provided some examples of more esoteric yet deeply gratifying ball damage.
There is the Radioactive Nad Shot, as delivered by Chen Lu of the Thunderbolts:
There is the psychedelic Double Crowbar Whammy as delivered by Jack Knight:
There is the Eminently Civilized Ballwhack delivered by Alfred:
NadShot.com even gave a shout out to one of my very favorite nad shots ever, that being the swift Shao-Lom kick to the nuts that Moondragon once delivered unto Rick Jones:
Rick's crystalline tears of torment are just beautiful.
Let us now enjoy the survey part of the course, shall we?
Not to be outdone by Elijah Snow, Jakita Wagner of Planetary shows a notable lack of inhibition when it comes to fighting dirty.
A most elaborately costumed nadshot from the pages of GrimJack:
Tarantula fucks up Nightwing something *terrible.* Ah, Oracle, I'd be pissed, too.
Balls ground to a red paste from the pages of All Star Batman & Robin.
OUCH. Frank Castle shoots off Logan's face, then takes a baseball bat to his family jewels.
There is the surgically cockblocked nad shot...
...and the smart shopper-blocked nadshot.
There is the Piratical Plundering of Manpain nadshot...
...and the Pump It Full of Lead nadshot:
John Constantine gets philosophical:
While Bane wields a lead pipe for GREAT JUSTICE:
A Kryptonian nadshot from Supergirl should, by all rights, be followed by nothing but screaming for the next twenty pages:
She kneed him so hard between the legs that it made pink lightning.
While a good one-two nadshot is better with sound effects, particularly with Garth Ennis' proclivity for lovingly chronicling every nuance of agony, sometimes strong and silent from Frank Castle will do the trick.
Let us not forget Spider Jerusalem and his self-administered pain.
Now we turn to the Time Traveling Nadshot, Nazi Edition.
For who in her or his right mind hasn't wanted to kick Hitler in the balls? Midnighter steps up to the plate:
Last but not least, there is the Very, Very Tiny Nadshot that is the unavoidable consquence of the physical environment - let's file this one under the Perils of Superheroing:
It's the "My little gentleman!" that makes that last panel precious to me.
Now, I do not claim that this is an authoritative or comprehensive survey of nadshottery, but I do so hope that you've enjoyed this brief field guide to masculine pain. Do feel free to post your own examples!
I know I feel better after looking at all of that. How about you?