Just finished watching a highly phallocentric documentary called Unhung Hero about one man’s journey to answer the whole “Does size matter?” question and to find, for himself, a method of male enhancement that really, really works.

This guy, poor Patrick Moote, got a very rough start on this journey when not only did he get turned down for marriage by a woman he truly loved, it happened on the “kiss cam” of a major sporting event for all of the fans to see, then got posted to YouTube for the entire world to see.

So yeah. He’s this poor guy. TRIGGER WARNING : Rejection.

Afterwards, she broke up with him, and one of the reasons she listed was his inadequate wang. Being a somewhat narcissistic and neurotic dude, that’s what he seized upon as the reason for all his problems.

Personally, I think she just freaked out at suddenly being put on the spot in an extremely emotionally manipulative way, possibly in a way that resonated with other attempts to manipulate her, and she lashed out with whatever she thought would hurt him the most. And obviously, she scored big time.

I mean, look at it from her point of view. Not only did he pull this big manipulative stunt on her, but in the fallout, people all over the world (the video got 10 million hits in four days) thought she was the coldest bitch in the world.

In her position, I would be super fucking pissed off too.

Anyhow, so this sends him on his journey all over the world to find out how other cultures view size and male enhancement. (It says something about the male mind that all you need to say is ‘male enhancement’ and we all know exactly what is being enhanced, and how. )

And he visits remote tribes in Papua New Guinea and sophisticated clinics in Korea and everywhere in between. All in search of a bigger fuckstick, even though early on, a noted urologist tells him his is “low average”.

A less neurotic person would take that as a sign that they were doing fine… not great, but fine. But of course, to the neurotic mind, “low average” means the same as “below average”, and “below average” equals “inadequate”.

I can relate. Not about dick size, because I could honestly not care less. That’s such a hopelessly superficial and unimportant aspect of a person that I can’t even take it seriously. To me, an obsession with dick size is just like an obsession with boob size. Constantly pursuing that which gives the strongest visual impression is the very definition of mindless decadence in my books.

It’s futile and it’s crass and it’s unbelievably gauche.

Then again, nobody has ever complained about mine. I am adequately equipped. Others have remarked about my girth being above average, and I assume they are right because I have trouble getting condoms that fit.

But I still can’t imagine caring very much about it. I am way more interested in what is going on between your ears than I am in what you have going on between your legs.

Size queens bore me.

Luckily, after a lot of travel, Patrick Moote ends up back in the USA, talking to the person most qualified to help him in the world : internationally famous advice columnist and universal force of awesomeness, Dan Savage.

And Dan, of course, tells him, in very polite and positive language, to get the heck over himself.

What I would have told him is “Look, this obsession with your equipment is clearly about a lot more than your penis. You feel inadequate in other ways, and you have focused on this one thing because it is something that seems fixable to you and has nothing to do with changing who you are as a person, which is a lot harder than just getting an operation. ”

That’s the sort of thing that fuels ninety percent of the cosmetic surgery industry, in my opinion. People deciding that this one superficial thing is the cause of all their problems, and that if only they could fix that, everything would be wonderful.

I have nothing against people getting their bodies modified to better please them. I just worry that, with the best of intentions, the cosmetic surgery industry is participating in a psychologically unhealthy process which will inevitably leave the person just as unhappy as before because they have not solved the real problem.

If your real problem is a bullet lodged near your heart, making the scar disappear won’t solve it.

Anyhow, I would tell Patrick that he has convinced himself that he is completely inadequate in the wedding tackle department. That no woman in the entire world would find his junk sufficient. That every single woman in the world will take one look at his penis and, regardless of any and all other compatibility factors, instantly and brutally reject him.

And of course, that is completely absurd. Women are not that shallow, except in the neurotic echo chambers of the minds of men. What matter is finding someone you like spending your time with. Everything else is complete and total bullshit.

I think both women and men get obsessed with the superficial things and imagine their preferred gender to be hopelessly shallow because it gives them an excuse to not even bother trying to meet other people and thus avoid all emotional risk.

I call that the “all grapes are sour” fallacy, or the pre-rejection bias. Convince yourself that absolutely everyone you desire would reject you, and you never have to face actual rejection.

It’s a close cousin to the “if you never try, you never fail” pathology. Convince yourself that all your efforts are destined to fail, and you never have to try. Problem solved!

As far as I can tell, there is only one piece of dating advice worth a damn, and that is “meet more people”.

That’s it. Every person you meet is a ticket for the merry monogamy lottery, and the more people you meet, the higher your odds of meeting someone you really, really like, and who likes you right back.

Everything else is secondary. Obviously, being well groomed and odor free and such counts, and learning to treat other human beings as equals helps a whole lot too, but the main thing is : meet lots of people.

But that’s the one thing that people (myself included) are unwilling to do.