*ahem* A preemptive ayo for those lacking the maturity to read further.  

A few weeks ago, I had a day off after several weeks hellish workdays which including the sacrifice if weekend. Since I was finally free, and it was 80 degrees, I said a mental fuck you to my northern fam (sorry y’all, you know, deep down, I love you) and took my happy ass to the beach. Packed a book, some lotion and planned to relax.  The book I packed was called Hung, by Scott Paulson Bryant; I had picked up months ago, just never got around to reading it. That day it happened to be on the top of stacks, so it got lucky and got grabbed.

The book was positioned as a study of the Black man’s penis throughout the years, the political, social and personal ramifications (no pun on ram) and historical baggage that have always accompanied it.  As a fan of penises, and with a moderate interest on history, I thought it would be an interesting read. Plus it wasn’t a terribly lengthy opus, so I figured as long as it wasn’t desperately boring; I could knock it out in an afternoon.  I settled down in to the warm sand, listened to waves crashing (get my seagulls in the back) and read about penis.

Or rather, I read what was more one man’s personal history of his own penis, a bit of literary masturbation, to cleanse and explore his personal penis issues rather than a thorough exploration about what a penis, specifically a back one, even more specifically a big black one means both in historical and contemporary America. Quite possibly, this lacking I found was due more to the swift hands of a rather cut happy editor than the writer himself. Perhaps the rather white world if publishing isn’t truly open to supporting a black penis, either as a topic of a book or as an appendage of a writer. Perhaps, as the writer himself says in his discussion of photographer Robert Mapplethorpe’s seminal Black Book, the black penis would be more accepted studied and explored by a white person, a dispassionate view of the mechanics of the penis,  rather than a firsthand journey of life with one.

Ultimately the book seemed to want to say that the world still isn’t ready to openly embrace a black man, or his penis, unless it’s on their terms-not his. As a Black man get closer to attaining the title of President, as more and more Black male entrepreneurs take names and kick ass in ever industry, perhaps this is switching. Only time will tell.

As piece of literature, I found Hung lacking, (no pun intended, really); however in support of the Black penis, cop it and decode for yourself.