Infinitely Retarded: The Icelandic Phallological Museum

Why's he touching it? Why not?

Iceland has got a dick house, and its got a new member. By dick house, I mean not a restaurant specializing in variations on the dessert spotted dick, nor a shack home to a bunch of rude individuals, nor even an office with a plate glass window that says PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, what I mean it really is a house of dick; of schlongs, of johnsons, of tallywackers. Yes, a dick house, or Phallological Museum, established in Husavik Iceland in 1997.

Husavik is a small town along the north coast of Iceland, with rolling hills and gingerbread houses taken straight from a model train hobbyist's diorama of some quaint little town of picturesque stagnancy. The bulk of its buildings lay along its bay, which attracts many species of whale, and as such attracts many nature freaks looking to do some whale watching. In years passed, the town had been an export harbor for silica, though now they have nothing but fishing and the tourist trade. But alas dear lads, under the quaint fog of this sleepy little town (Population 2,296) lies perhaps one of the strangest museums around the world. Its founder, and current director Sigurour Hygartarson, is a former teacher of history who gave up filling the heads of children with facts and tarnished history for the filling of thick, greased jars with penises and formaldehyde. How did the change from history professor to museum curator come about? Well in his own words it was like this:

"The foundation was laid in 1974, when I got a pizzle or bull's penis. As a child I was sent into the countryside during summer vacations and there I was given a pizzle as a whip for the animals."

Wait. . . what?

"At that time in 1974, I was living in the town of Akranes on the south-west coast [of Iceland], working as a headmaster in a secondary school. Some of my [colleagues] used to work the summer in a nearby whaling station and after the first specimen [the pizzle] they started bringing me whale penises, supposedly to tease me. Then the idea came up gradually that it might be interesting collecting specimens from more mammalian species."

Yeah. . . interesting.

"Collecting these organs progressed slowly in the beginning and in 1980 I had 13 specimens, four from whales and nine from land mammals. In 1990, there were 34 specimens, and when the museum opened in Reykjavik in August 1997, the specimens were 62 in number.

In the spring of 2004, the museum moved to the small fishing village of Husavik, the whale watching capital of Europe."

You can poke an eye out with that thing... thats what she said.

Yeah, because moving a dick house there makes total sense.

I say he just likes dick. Like really, all I gotta say is 'pizzle whip.' I'm certain that pizzle whips hardly if ever come up in normal conversation, and as such I must assume that Mr. Hygartarson wanted to divulge such information, and apparently his colleagues were willing to humor him to the point of actually bringing him specimens.

As such, the museum grew...

and grew...

and grew..

and now houses over 276 baby makers (most in formaldehyde, few dried/nailed to the wall), all housed in 7 different sections, the most absurd of which would have to be the Folklore section, which features such headliners as: the penis of a merman, the shriveled nuts of The Corpse-Eating Cat of Thingmuli, the penis bone of an elf, a petrified troll wang, and the bits and bobs of many other Icelandic mythical (imaginary) creatures. The majority of all specimens at the museum have been donated, the donors all in a long list reading like a who's who of dick collectors.

And now, on April 12th, after 15 long years of waiting its got its newest donation (ha, see how I did that?).

A human specimen, the first of its kind at the Phallological Museum maintained in its own jar of formaldehyde.

And its donor? Well, he is now dead, having offered up his ninety-five-year old hose to the curator, and long time friend posthumously; but in life people called him Pall Arason. Now thats true friendship. He wasn't the only one offering up his junk either, over the years many applicants tossed their names and manhood into the hat, though Pall's was the first one to be 'submitted successfully.' Direct quote, I shit you not... first one to be 'submitted successfully' . . . Apparently a chap in England sent his penis to the wrong house, and terrified an Icelandic woman expecting word from her son in America, and another, well his penis got mixed up in shipping and got sent back to him, the jar in which it was contained cracked, smelling of death at sea.

Hygartarson finds no problem in having his friends old wang up on display, stating that many people donate organs after their death, and there should be no difference between "penises and kidneys."

So pack your bags kiddies, and head up to Iceland for a jolly good time! Don't worry, you can't miss the place, its the place with the huge carved wooden dick out front!

Iceland is a weird place. There's no ice, yet its called Iceland. And we all remember D2 right?

Only in Iceland would they teach kids to do a triple deke only to stop at the blue line, making the whole 'triple deke' pointless to begin with. Thats like if Kobe Bryant worked the crossover, lost his man and then proceeded to jump stop, waiting for the defender to catch up, get in his face, and then, when guarded tried to attempt the shot. Of course the shot is gonna get blocked, of course the puck aint goin' in the net. . . But thats backward ass Icelandic thinking for yah. Its why they didn't win that junior hockey championship, and why they've got a penis museum.

Its latest addition I would hope to be horrifying to children and grotesque to anyone with a penis. I'm not trying to disregard the 'scientific' purposes behind such a museum, but really? a mangled penis in a jar? Who the hell wants to see that?

And it is for these reasons, that iR declares The Icelandic Phallological Museum to be irreparably retarded.