You know that smell when something goes bad in your refrigerator…?

Have you ever browsed a sperm bank catalog? It’s a real meat market. You get lists of men by height, weight, profession, ethnic background, etc., and if you like that 6’1″ red-haired Lithuanian stockbroker, click, and he’s in your shopping cart. They ship direct to your doctor (residential delivery costs extra), and they even have a return policy.

Of course, if you’re anything like me, you look at the list and can’t help but think, “What a bunch of wankers.”

Still, it’s a tragedy when you learn that they’ve been wiped out in a tragic refrigerator accident. Oh, my dear Scots-Irish ski instructor with type A+ blood! Alas, poor Asian medical intern with a fondness for reading! Say it isn’t so, O+ African American lawyer and theater fan! So much potential life lost…when’s the memorial service?

P.S. There is a real tragedy here: men undergoing cancer treatments with risk of infertility also lost deposits. That part isn’t funny at all, and I imagine there is some emotional trauma involved.

That settles it. I’m changing my lifestyle.

Now this is a headline: Man lived to 112 on sausage-and-waffles diet. In addition to living that long, I have another dream:

“All of his organs were extremely youthful. They could have been the organs of someone who was 50 or 60, not 112. Clearly his genes had some secrets,” Coles said.

“Everything in his body that we looked at was clean as a whistle, except for his lungs with the pneumonia,” Coles said. “He had no heart disease, he had no cancer, no diabetes and no Alzheimer’s.

When I’m dead, I want someone to discuss my internal organs on the internet. Photos would be even better. I don’t anticipate that they will get quite the glowing report this fellow’s did, but still, the idea that my guts could be the topic of morning breakfast conversation appeals to me.

(via Byzantium’s Shores)

The apostate kidney

What a strange story: a woman donates one of her kidneys to another woman in need. Later, the recipient leaves the Christian faith. Now the donor wants her organ back.

Smith was aghast when she heard of the conversion, and she quickly wrote a letter asking Felks to re-convert to Christianity or return the organ, saying it was donated under false pretenses.

“I feel helpless,” she says. “Part of my body, my DNA, is stuck inside a person who’s going to hell.”

There’s some freaking weird theology going on here. Does she think her DNA is going to be assumed into the afterlife? Do spirits have DNA? Do you need a kidney as an angel?

She also has some strange anxieties, since the recipient is a pagan.

Smith suffers nightmares of her former organ filtering “strange Asian teas, pig blood and witch doctor brews in Africa,” she says. She wonders if the Lord really wanted her to donate the kidney, or if she acted on a “triple-espresso high” she had that morning. She is also concerned that when her body is resurrected, it might be incomplete.

That’s tragic. The kidney is also missing the opportunity to filter the body and blood of Christ, transforming Jesus’ protein into urine. Oh, to never again deaminate the amino acids of the God of Abraham, to never again extract Jesus’ sodium ions, and to have to settle for filtering the ichor of little animist gods…what a sad fate.

I don’t know about this bodily resurrection thing. I would think that running a little lapsang souchong through the ol’ nephric ducts is small potatoes compared to being perfused with embalming fluid and later rotting into a putrid film of bacterial goo. Apparently, the Holy Ghost can reanimate that, but foreign tea is going to have It scratching It’s immaterial and invisible Head.

The theological absurdity goes on.

“I’m all for spiritual curiosity,” she says, “but you’ve got to settle these things beforehand. My kidney belongs to Christ. It will never be Pagan.

Hmm. Yes. Various organs in your body all make intellectual and emotional decisions about what religion they should follow. Personally, I’ve had my organs all committed to different and appropriate philosophies: my colon is a good disciplined Calvinist, my lungs are Breatharians, my right forefinger is an acolyte of the cult of Macintosh (*click*, praise Jobs!), and my penis is observant of some hysterically hedonistic faith which doesn’t require much in the way of intellectual expression. My brain, however, is godless.

Smith’s brain is definitely fundamentalist Christian: inert, uninformed, and irrational.

(via God is for Suckers)

P.S. Some people aren’t getting it. The article is satire, although if you do think about it, there is some weird stuff going on with this whole idea of an afterlife.

Minnesota misogynists: vote!

The BIG fair, the Minnesota state fair, is going on right now, and Karina Hill is letting people vote on exactly which repellent Midwestern grease lump on a stick she should eat. Here’s the menu:

  1. Fried cheese puffs
  2. Cajun Season Alligator Sausage on-a-stick
  3. Deep Fried Cheese on a stick
  4. Jerk pork chop drummy
  5. Pancake wrapped around sausage on-a-stick
  6. Uffda Treat
  7. Belgium waffle on-a-stick
  8. Australian Battered Potatoes
  9. Cheese-burger calzones on-a-stick
  10. Wild Rice corndogs
  11. Key Lime Pie on-a-stick
  12. Dogzilla
  13. Egg-roll on-a-stick
  14. Fried-Egg Bagel Sandwich
  15. Pizza on-a-stick
  16. Political pop
  17. Deep-fried twinkies
  18. Chicken-chops
  19. Frozen Coffee on-a-stick
  20. Deep fried cheese curds
  21. Tater-tot hotdish on-a-stick
  22. Spaghetti and Meatball on-a-stick
  23. Deep-fried candy bar on-a-stick
  24. Deep fried oreos
  25. Deep-fried spudsters on-a-stick
  26. Spicy buffalo chicken filled wonton
  27. Blackened Cajun steak on-a-stick
  28. Bug juice
  29. Scotch Meatball on-a-stick
  30. Puff-daddy on-a-stick
  31. Pizza burgers
  32. Ice-cream on-a-stick
  33. Fresh chocolate dipped marshmallows on-a-stick
  34. Wall-Eye on-a-stick
  35. Mac-n-cheese on-a-stick
  36. Batter-dipped deep-fried chocolate chip cookies on-a-stick
  37. Fried ravioli garlic bread

If you’re the kind of wretched humanity-hating bastard who’d inflict any of those things on this poor woman’s digestive tract, circulatory system, kidneys, and brain, go ahead—vote at Minnesota Stories.

Warning: Tater-tot hotdish on-a-stick is disturbingly phallic.

New York has everything

I’m sorry to say that on our last trip to New York, we missed this museum.

Peruse an 1814 sketchbook by the Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai and eventually you’ll come across a bashful, wide-eyed octopus. You’d never guess that the innocent creature leads a secret life of debauchery. But a few years later, there he is on a woodblock print, still wide-eyed, now presented by Hokusai in a moment of infamous passion—his bulbous head pushed between the legs of a young woman, delivering a rather well-received session of cunnilingis. Hilarious and startling, it’s just one example of the explicit shunga, or “pictures of spring,” in an exhibition at the Museum of Sex surveying four centuries of Japan’s cartoonish pornography.

Next time!

(via 3quarksdaily and Jennifer Ouellette)