Suddenly, a lot of things become much clearer. (OR: This is "Hate on Marvel" week, isn't it?)
(Originally found on This page.)
And no, before anyone asks, I don't have a real problem with strippers; it's just not my cup of tea. As I'm fond of saying when the discussion comes up (and when four or more guys are together for more than 30 minutes, the likeliness of the discussion taking place increases by 50% every 5 minutes), why would I go to the buffet when I can't eat a thing on the menu1?
I've just noticed that there's a certain mentality among people that like strippers quite a lot. I almost hesitate to call it sexism because it doesn't register on their radars; they'd not ever want to see a woman they knew doing the pole-pump-and-grind routine. However, they'll never, ever say "No," if the possibility arises to watch a nameless female shape writhe in simulated ecstasy, especially after three or four drinks. That's not somebody they know, so they're able to not be bothered by the atmosphere of failure and desperation that looms when $12 buys you a lapdance.
And if they can reduce it all down to tits-and-ass there's an actual flesh-and-blood female in front of them, what about when they're at the office, sober, but it's just a comics character?
1This is, of course, setting aside the nutritional value of spray-on tan, silicone, and hair extensions.
