Best Form of Torture?

Lowbrow Answer: Waterboarding
Waterboarding sounds like something douchbags do behind a speed boat on a lake in New Hampshire: "Hey bro, grab some PBR and your Volcom shorts - we're going Waterboarding." Couldn't you give it a cooler name, like "Land-Swimming" or "H2-Oh-No" or "The Aquaman Surprise."

The idea here is that you make the victim feel like he is drowning. The problem is that every account I've ever read of drowning says that it's actually quite a euphoric feeling. So you've got a bad guy and you want him to tell you about all his bad guy plans and you're going to do that by making him feel euphoric over and over and over again? No wonder we can't find Osama Bin Laden.


Middlebrow Answer: The Judas Cradle
Now THAT is how you name a torture device. I'm terrified of this thing just based on the title alone. The deal is, they chain your neck to the wall and then make you sit on a little pyramid until the thing slides up inside you and splits you open. Brutal. It's slow, it's jagged, and it's a real pain in the ass. Literally. Imagine getting an enema with a bowling pin.

Although I can't help but feel that there are few people who would enjoy being chained to the wall and having a small pyramid rammed into their asshole. Like those guys that are turned on by a girl throwing up onto a balloon, or those woman who think it's hot when a dude puts a hamster into the end of his dong. It ain't torture if Kinky McGee is getting off on it.


Highbrow Answer: The Head Crusher
This one is pretty straightforward. No bells, no whistles. Just your eyeballs squeezed out of their sockets as your head is crushed in a vice. Apparently the first thing that happens is your teeth are pressed up into your jaw. Then your forehead collapses and your brain begins leaking out of the cracks in your skull. So. Just to recap. Teeth into jaw. Forehead collapse. Leaky brain. You could draw a picture of this device in red crayon and I'd still tell you everything I know. Jesus.

The Head Crusher was primarily used in that delightful little period of Iberian history known as The Spanish Inquisition. Some priest in a dress would stick your head into the device and ask you if you believed in Jesus. You say no, they turn the crank. You say yes, they burn you alive. Man. Kinda makes all that child molesting look pale in comparison. (too soon?)

I think Gay People are...

Lowbrow Answer: "Punching Bags."
Hey. Homophobic dickheads of America. Can we stop with all the I'm-going-to-make-this-gay-kid's-life-so-miserable-that-he-kills-himself bullshit? What are you, five? Newsflash. This isn't 1169. The world is round. The Earth isn't the center of the universe. Fire is a chemical reaction, not a mystical punishment from God for touching yourself. This is the modern era. We have a black president. Women vote. I can film myself masturbating and then watch it back in less than ten seconds. Get with the times. Homophobia is out of style, along with public lynching and liking Weezer.

I don't understand homophobia in the first place. What the hell is so scary about gay people? I'd get it if you were afraid of sharks or spiders or Mike Tyson. But gays? They smell nice, they drink good wine, and they're great at figure skating. What the hell is so scary about that? Although, to be fair, that Russian figure skater from the Olympics was terrifying. That guy looked like he could strangle a grizzly bear. With his hands. On ice. In a purple and gold leotard.


Middlebrow Answer: "Funny on 'Modern Family.'"
Yes, Cameron and Mitchell are hilarious. Yes, so are Will and Jack. Yes, so are all five of those nice ladies from 'Queer Eye.' I'll even admit that Rosie O'Donnell made me giggle a few times. But only when she wasn't ranting about Cutie Patooties or inviting some fourth-grader to build her desk out of blue marshmallows. But here's the real question about all these people: Are we laughing with them or at them?

The problem with gays in the media is that they're never just people; they're always gay people. I want a baddass firefighter character to join the cast of "Rescue Me," and only after he has saved like 12 people from a burning building and rescued three Iranian babies from a flaming car does he mention that he's gay. And when he does, the other dudes pass him a PBR and respond with, "So?"


Highbrow Answer: "Just as uninteresting as the rest of us."
So you like ballet. And Broadway musicals. And penises in your butt. Who cares. I have more important things to worry about than who's tying you to the bed and covering you with KY jelly at night. I have Marx to read. I have Adorno to critique. I can't be bothered with the trivialities of your sex life. I don't care whether you're fucking a man or a woman; either way, the sex you're having is way less amazing than the sex I'm having. Trust me.

Here's an idea. Let's just all stay out of each other's personal lives, okay? You want to have sex with a dude? Go for it. You want to make play-doh replicas of the Teletubbies and throw them at old people? Great. You want to dress like a 3rd century sod farmer and lip sync to Tina Turner in your bathroom? Awesome. Good luck. I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine. 123 Go.