Skip to main content

Autopsy Report - Cause of Death: Toxic Masculinity

Marin County Coroner’s Office
Name of Deceased: McDowell, Trent
Sex: Male
Age: 31
T.O.D: 9:31pm
Body identified by: The woman the deceased was dating (not “his girlfriend.”  She made this distinction - see supplementary notes for details)
Autopsy performed by: Randy “Doc Savage” Russell, M.D.

EXTERNAL EXAMINATION:

The autopsy began at 11:30PM on February 14th.  The victim was wearing a Brooks Brothers blazer over an Oakland Raiders t-shirt.  Upon removal of the deceased’s clothes, I detected an odor of Tom Ford Noir cologne, applied liberally.

Calluses on hands are consistent with lifting free weights and not actual manual labor.  Judging by the proportional strength of quadriceps and gluteus maximus muscles, the deceased rarely skipped leg day.

Victim has two tattoos.  One of the Greek letters “Sigma Chi” across right biceps.  On the left anterior deltoid, the second tattoo reads: “Blood, Sweat and Respect.  The first two you give, the last one you earn.” -Dwayne Johnson.

Right ear lobe demonstrates that it was once pierced, but was allowed to close back up.

Abrasions on knuckles and trace amounts of stucco indicate the deceased had recently punched a wall, that being the only way he knew to demonstrate anger. 


EVIDENCE COLLECTED:

1) The victim’s cell phone.  Recent texts between the deceased and his father read: “Good.”  “Sure.” and “You too.”  Recent Google searches included: “How do I change a tire” and “How to tie a double Windsor knot”
2) One (1) ticket stub for the new X-Men movie (research shows that the same theater was also screening Moonlight and Lion)
3) Forty-five (45) new business cards with job title “Advertising Exec at Hal Riney & Partners” (Silian Rail font)


TOXICOLOGY REPORT:

The following was found in the deceased’s system: Ballast Point IPA, creatine, small batch bourbon, insecurity, medium-rare red meat, ill-advised adoration of Norman Mailer, Bulletproof coffee, self-loathing.


INTERNAL EXAMINATION:

Opening up the deceased, it quickly became clear what we were dealing with.

ENDOCRINE SYSTEM - The Pituitary gland secreted almost exclusively testosterone, which had metastasized (some more cutesy M.E.’s have christened it “metasterone,” but I will forego that silliness) spreading to all parts of the body, invading glands and replacing other hormones.

CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM - The Occipital Lobe of the brain, which controls sensitivity, was underused to the point of atrophy.  Disrupted neural pathways led to a delayed response to affection and a resulting build up of unresolved emotions and malignant bile.

The frontal, lizard brain portion of the cerebellum (known also as the “Hemingway quadrant”), which controls male competition, was disproportionally enlarged.  This bloated region began to weaken the abutting Language Center, rendering it incapable of speaking or processing the words “I love you.”

GASTROINTESTINAL TRACT- Numerous stress-induced ulcers in the deceased’s stomach lining.  The pain receptors had mutated, however, to misinterpret the aching as being a beneficial sign of virility.


SUPPLEMENTARY INTERVIEW:

The woman who brought the body the hospital said that the deceased refused to define their relationship.  They were “keeping it casual,” despite the fact that they were clearly compatible.  She added that the deceased had a competitive streak at sexual intercourse, often furious at himself for not bringing her to climax.


FINAL OPINION/REMARKS:

My observations of the deceased’s symptoms all point to one conclusion: the cause of death was Toxic Masculinity, self-inflicted.  It is my opinion that the fatal event occurred as follows:

While out at the movies with his girlfriend the girl he was seeing, a traumatic event forced the deceased to confront his perceived insecurities.  Presumably it stemmed from a pathological inability to admit that Michael Fassbender is an attractive man.  Most likely, the deceased was adamant that he “just doesn’t see men in that way so why are you even asking me?”

Competing nerve impulses sent contradictory signals to the brain, which led to his punching a wall.  The brain did not know how to properly process either pain or emotion, causing yet another spike of adrenaline that choked and poisoned the central nervous system, sending the body into shock.  The hormonal stress response was to inject more toxic testosterone into the body in an attempt to play through the pain. 

These toxins would normally be disposed of by the liver, but it was working double time to process the bourbon, IPA, and residual pent-up desperation.  The victim’s organs could not sustain that level of masculinity for that long, shutting down, proving fatal.

While the death was self-inflicted, part of the blame could be placed on society for not wiping out this public health epidemic with the requisite therapy, antibiotics and support of the NFL concussion protocol.  The deceased left the condition untreated for years, however, hence the self-inflicted designation.

As of late, this office has seen many instances of this condition.  Far too many.  Even one is one too many.  Makes me sad to see another case of toxic masculinity claim another life.  No.  Wait.  Scratch that.  My professional capacity doesn’t allow me to be sad.  I am angry.  And that anger reaffirms my stoic resolve that we will one day find a cure.  Yes.  That is the proper response.



-30-

*****


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

25 October 2007 - I'm not sure what his appeal is, but he deserves better

Superman has kryptonite. Mike Tyson has Buster Douglas. Vince Young has grammar. We all have our weaknesses. But mine is a little bit more embarassing than any of the aforementioned (apart from VY's hatred of the present tense): dumb romantic comedies. Yes, it's not something that I like to admit and it's a vice probably better suited for the Probie or Sean Garrity , but I just like to sit down for an hour and a half, turn my brain off and watch two people fall in love. And apart from the Hanks/Ryan classics (which were ruined for me after Meg ditched Dennis Quaid for Cinderella Man ), there is one thread that links all of my favorites: Hugh Grant. I mean, just look at the guy. When he's not getting arrested for picking up hookers on Sunset (here's a better shot of the man), he's the epitome of the 90 minute romance. He's got "endearingly befuddled" down to an art form, he's also got perfect comedic timing and if you've ever seen hi

It was labor day weekend, I was 17. I bought a coke and some gasoline.

It's currently day three of my blogging adventure, and David Delgado has still not accepted my challenge to get off of his lazy ass and start writing. This is why a hunger strike may be necessary. If Mr. Delgado does not cave in and post a new entry by the end of this week, then on November 14th, I, Max Davison, will officially pull a Ghandi and abstain from eating for as long as it takes. Homer Simpson also utilized this tactic when the Springfield Isotopes were planning on moving to Albuquerque. It worked then, and it will work now if necessary. Onto the blogging... I had a rather pleasant dinner at the Ath tonight. It was a class dinner for Prof. Busch's GOVT20 class. The highlights included conversations about the Ivory Coast, strange roommates, and (most importantly) they had some great cheesecake. So great, in fact, that we raided the empty tables to ensure ourselves some extra slices. Cheesecake. I love it. Occasionally, I'm not sure if I want cake or a dairy

To forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race

So, I've decided to take a break from my James Joyce paper to talk about my candidate for President in 2008. He is a man of convictions. A man with a stellar record of military service. A man who knows how to get things done. A man who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty in order to set the world straight. A man who also has a talk show on FoxNews and frequents the Sean Hannity radio program. Col. Oliver North Argue with me if you dare. You'll lose. Do you want a strong leader like Colonel North or Hillary? That's right. I'm glad you see it my way. With that being said, I'll go back to my boy Stephen Dedalus. SERENITY NOW!!!!!