Conjugal Caniness Comes

In December I dreamt.
White sky on frost field,
Shadowtree on slumberspot,
dusk over lakota savannah. 

Watched and waited
under oak tree
on hunger hill -
Wanted bloodtooth. 
Then a great black wolf, a she-wolf, brought me food. 
Piece by piece, she fed me.
Loping, she-lupus came and went. 
Tossle-maned, raven-fell, tangle-thick, she lay near me. 
Side by side, we tore and ate.
She sought me, warmed me, braved me, outloped me. 
In night-dark, she shifted, stood up, wolf woman.
Thick black hair on whitesky skin.
Do not know her.
Never saw her.
I hope we share more carcasses.

Wombsea

When i was a little, i had a name for the faucet and flood which filled a hot bathtub while i sat in it: Birth Dreaming Death. What did i feel? A birth, a dream, a death. I'd taken the words from a George MacDonald fairy story. Today, September Twelfth, the breath of autumn blew me under a hot showerhead where I stood in a dreaming daze, almost hypnosis. What did i feel? Hypnotised by WHAT? No hypnotist ever encircled me. But this hot water swarms and wraps me. Waves of hot collide with the chill of Death, and whispers of comfort and stings of pleasure. I stand and sway, racked by surges of sating vulnerability, the nakedness of a newborn with skin exposed to February frost. What did i feel? My mother once folded me in the warmth of her feminine flesh. I was lost in love. I knew no other wind nor heat save her breath and skin. Once more, my body bleeds the truth, and Death and Birth kiss at the Chasm Lip. My blood is taken undersea, or through ice-air, or into fire. Clothless i slip into slicksea as age grows sage over my flesh. Hot chills and cool heat ride me to the brink. Gooseskin shivers in ancient conviction, vindicated by numinous awe. All my body is bare to the breadth and bulge of Wombsea.

Cogitations from the Hibernacle

DAILY TO-DO AND BRAINDEW

24 May 2005

Greasing the Slobgob

Slobgobbery does not stem from any innate antiloquence. Doddering dopewords like “the tabled agenda item from last week which we’re not interested in re-investing bio-fuel for the QTX430 anyway was you know um the research of myself and Jane as far as my update shows which we can wrap it up this way since it’s best if we just go ahead and just go get ahead on tonight’s agenda on what’s on the table” stem NOT from oral training but from an aurally/vocally a-verbal, creak-jawed society. The above quote lacks the assertive force of orally and communally habituated language. It stems from disjointed specialists with slobgob mouths mumbling what their brains supposedly surpass their tongues in. The discursive isolationists stumble and grope with something which has became unnatural to them – SPOKEN LANGUAGE. Pseudo-educated, media-gawking, text-goggling, fadhead ninnies drown in the slime of aphasia as their synapses spark them to make smarter commericial transactions than living relationships. Our own President spins in his own elliptical fits of verbal epilepsy.

Nor do such words have the honey of the nimble tongued illiterate; one well-greased mouth from Alabama asserted: “We’re gonna be shittin in high cotton.”


Ere Christmas, 2006

Yeast Yammers

Bipolar metabolism: Metabolic lull, then diabolic surge. Sheepwalk by Day. Wolfsleep ere Evenhunt. Drake-ire at Dusk-fire. Glare-stare at Gloaming. Effect compounded by fungal imps, yammering yeasts. Cheeky chitlings in the bowels.
Intox
Ethenol Ethers
Sillyhead
Slumberskull
Yeast yammer
Jimjammer.
Skipped lecture. Must sleep. To work at 3pm. Supervisor CH on me like a fruitbat. Fruity fruit-muncher. Batty batty in dee head, bonkers in dee bitty brain. I was nogginnoddin at work inbetween. Noddin a heavy noggin. Captioning inbetween. Iffy unspiffy Voice Recognizance.

}}}OR{{{

Bipolar metabolism: Metabolic lull, then diabolic surge.
Sheepwalk by Day. Wolfsleep ere Evenhunt.
Drake-ire at Dusk-fire. Glare-stare at Gloaming.
Effect compounded by intestinal tykes,
Fungal imps, yammering yeasts,
Cheeky chitlings in the bowels.
Intox.
Ethenol Ethers.
Sillyhead
Slumberskull
Yeast yammer
Jimjammer.
Slothspeed and Slugspeed,
Snailswift and Grubslow.
My quickneed impeded.
My walking unipeded.
Skipped lecture for sleep,
Headslaking slumber.
Wended to work at Three.
Supervisor on me like a fruitbat. Fruity fruit-muncher.
Batty batty in duh head all teeny,
bonkers in duh bitty brain.
I was nogginnodding at work inbetween.
Nodding a heavy noggin,
Captioning inbetween.
Decapitating call-floor coppers.
Incompetent computators –
Iffy unspiffy Voice Recognizance.


1 January 2007

Feast of Foreskin-Flaying

I’m not making that up that bit about foreskins. A Holy Circumcision [of Christ] is/was commemorated by Catholics on this day. It concludes the Feast of Fools, so far I know. I’m glad I’m already missing mine and needn’t reenact the ceremony.


3 January 2007

LS’s Brave New Brain

I praise LS’s and YG’s reductioninst feminism, their tendency to dismiss femininity and masculinity as nonbiological categories; their proclivity for dismissing works of art purely on the basis of the sexual orientation of the authors, or a single character’s standpoint within authors’ works. LS and YG are not the first to have done so, but their arguments penetrate with new sting.

So C. S. Lewis is a racist, as are Lewis’ horses, his Horse’s Boy, and all Narnians! In fact, the people Narnians most hate are Ottoman Turks!

‘Turkish’ Tashkent, for the geo-illiterate, lies southeast of Narnia in an evil Orient. Tashshshshshkent! Rolls off Attila’s tongue! Strange, then, to report that Narnians follow a ‘Turkish’ god (Turk. aslan = ‘lion’). As all educated, brainsexed readers know, all Narnians and Tashkentians relate to one another *only* on the basis of gender, race and language! Quite so. Bravo LS. A Brave New Brain you have.

We also know that Narnians abhor African monkeys (esp deified apes), and extend this loathing to any degenerate human faintly formed in apelikeness.

By way of contrast, Centaurs bleed pure Greek blood and oppose local women in leadership. However, White English Planet-Earth females, divinely favoured, may rule over Narnia as queens. Susan, Clives Staples, African Lions, Turkish Monkeys – Fagh! Those ree ree ree ree ree ree ... RACISTS! Those s s s s s s s s ... SEXISTS!

LS and YG well advise you not to read any works by C. S. Lewis, lest the central vein of his plots and messages wangle you to possess a subconsciously prejudiced mind, and tempt you toward...eugenics?

Could it be that Lewis’ fondness for Jewish women created in him a conflicting and latent anti-semitism?? Such a query could unlock Narnia’s most profound subtext.

LS and YG, having dodged all hyper-focus on nonfundamentals, and placed Power Hierarchies at the manipulative core of all human belief, society, art, and behaviour, are, in the flower of their polysexual youth, best suited to provide you the best possible guidance in the literary lands of Lewis. They vow to steer the reader clear from interpretations based on biodeterminism, malicious stereotypes, and dysfunctional victimization, mapping out (for the first time) Narnia’s transcultural, metaphysical topography.


March marches away, 2007

A Devil's Day

Cloud and mist stick. A smothery smeeth hangs thick on the world. False Spring. Devil’s Dew. I went out in the brew, sickle cycling my swath to work. Sweet and short – pulled a one-hour shift. That shifty devil’s hour had the moil and mishap of an entire day. My headphone set turned up missing (I borrowed my locker mate’s), then I sat stuck to a forty-minute call (Big Apple bawling) under cataracts of blatherspitten neuro-blab. Bombastic blubbering. Within ten minutes to quit, Call Takeover duty beckoned; I’d the fortune to decline and wait on the luck of my own headwires. A call caught me within a minute to punch-out, later relieved by a fellow Call Takeover victim. After clearing up a schedule request’s cross-fired instructions, I fled the building under pelting rain inside a black garbage sack I’d pinched from a break-room can. S. drove me to the Co-op where a Matterhorn of dishes met my duty, skyhigh during a Co-op party. The culprits did their damndest to serve only cheapest hard liquors, mixed in mut-bowls beyond recognition. Not a drop of goodly ale, wine, mead, cidre, or brackitt! I balk at the sweet bile hungrily swilled by boys and girls. LMacDonald’s devilled eggs mended much – gave S. a needed snack. The devil’s a chef among lesser fiends. After scullery slavery and ovarious bites, S. and I nestled in for _Michael Collins_ and mutually gnawed a lamb shank. She’s the first woman I’ve sunk teeth into one bone with! Mouth-millers mutually munching mutton. Meet teeth tearing the meat.

2 April 2007

A Break from Debauchville

After workday waned and went, my cycle hit a silent downtown. I pedalled in glee, not knowing why my haunts had been evacuated. Ah hah! Vernal Recess, the supposed repose. Eh, if none for them, then some for me! The noisy brats had blown town – their dustcloud at long last settled. I threw a party for myself. Cooked sardines in pure coconut fat with pablanos, garlic, pepper, basil, salt and limejuice squeezed from pulp and rind. Kale and arugula lay laced in tomato, avocado, peppers, vidalias, flax, sunflower seed, kelp, sageleaf and heavy cream cayenne dressing. An entrancing Transylvanian wine, Vampire, volubly enveloped my throttle; I canted out with Irish crack _P Stands for Paddy_ and _Follow Me Up to Carlow_. Cinediscs of Gothic film had arrived post haste. A gem sat waiting my viewing – _Two Faces of Dr Jekyll_ with Paul Massie, Dawn Addams and Christopher Lee.

Outside whined the winter winds, sixty degrees fallen from the former high. A blight to the buds. Food production plummets by the year. Droughts and floods increase. Dearth and death are rife. Rich ones rifle the poor. The money piles buy less and less. Capital’s decapitated. Starving hands clutch to currency’s ashes. Dollars to squalor. Members to embers. Nickels to pickles. Quarters to Morte ore. Dimes dust of time. Bills paper pills.

Ineffectual symbols to dull the symptoms of counterfeit health.

Malefactured capital manufactures everything but sustenance.


On Sarapatra’s Birthday, 2007

Thoughts on Gender Discord

I managed to unravel (unleash) a drama of female rage (x 3 ) for several weeks after entering the House via a firedoor when my keys were lost and nobody was around to let me in. Had then to sledgehammer open me own door and fix it after. A few people later (two weeks later) mistook and misreported the incidence as that of an intruder! All is now well, but my faith in feminine ‘equanimity’ (read sanity) weakens by the year. I believe my boyhood belief that “all women are angels” has at last with test of time been mostly disproven. I’m no longer certain that primarily men drive the eccentric (hyperbolic) wars, violence and punishments of world history. A fellow female co-oper at Ambrosia explained to me that the greatest hindrance to Woman, to her tranquility, is not Man ... but Woman. The polemic polarity of the sexes exacerbated by feminists only exists when the sexes abandon the best attributes of Masculinity and Femininity (complete in the godhead). Thus, the Woman takes on the hitherto checked-and-balanced ‘negative’ attributes of the Masculine – aggression, self-containment, assertiveness, competitiveness – while the Man seeks to find his denied serenity or domestic bliss through his passive Feminine withdrawal and recluse quietude, mixed with male mysogeny and irresponsibility. Feminine tenderness, empathy, trust, domesticity, compassion are less regarded, even scorned, by the feminist, while the better of the Masculine attributes (loyalty, equanimity, magnanimity, generative ambition) are equally neglected by the new, sexually amorphic Woman. People’s diets (low in animal fats and raw nutrition) further confound the harmony, disturbing sexual development and proper hormonal balance. Modern humans are much more likely to be too masculine or too feminine, and that regardless of biological gender. Homosexuality and ambisexuality, sound when subject to relational accountability in a society of sexual balance, may disproportionately increase under myriad dys-sexual influences and imperatives, further blurring the beauty of distinctions, and weakening the gender balance obtained by single individuals. The best blends of Masculinity and Femininity, whether in a mutally beneficent relationship or within a well-balanced individual, go extinct in the present polarity! Gender discord serves to promote the fiction that Masculine-Feminine are invented categories, and that biological trends are infinite, controllable, prerogatival, and individual. In such a world, neither Sex nor Gender have any use or reality, either as Myth, or as Body. If a Man (like myself) can possess and enjoy within himself a dose of feminine attributes, that’s only because his Maleness lives without shame, without ambivalence, and without margerine.

Ravencare

March Fifth, I dreamt. A raven reeled in front of me. Wore a neck-chain, blinked blue eyes. Startled, I started to swat. "Stop. She wants to feed you", says a voice. My arms sank. I opened my mouth. Quickfood sure-aimed shot from her beak. She fluttered and fanned, her wings fell feather warm on my naked neck.

The New Hypocrite

From G. K. Chesterton, What's Wrong with the World

"The old hypocrite . . . was a [person] whose aims were really worldly and practical, while he pretended that they were religious. The new hypocrite is one whose aims are really religious, while he pretends that they are worldly and practical. .... It is a fight of creeds masquerading as policies."


"The old tyrants invoked the past; the new tyrants will invoke the future. Evolution has produced the snail and the owl; evolution can produce a workman who wants no more space than a snail, and no more light than an owl."

"The modern mind is forced towards the future by a certain sense of fatigue, not unmixed with terror, with which it regards the past. .... The goad which drives it on thus eagerly is not an affectation for futurity. Futurity does not exist, because it is still future. Rather it is a fear of the past; a fear not merely of the evil in the past, but of the good in the past also. The brain breaks down under the unbearable virtue of [human]kind. There have been so many flaming faiths that we cannot hold; so many harsh heroisms that we cannot imitate; so many great efforts of monumental building or of military glory which seem to us at once sublime and pathetic. The future is a refuge from the fierce competition of our fore[bears]. The older generation, not the younger, is knocking at our door. The future is a blank wall on which [I] can write [my] name as large as [I] like. .... I can make the future as narrow as myself; the past is obliged to be as broad and turbulent as humanity."

"These colossal ruins are to the modern only enormous eyesores. He looks back along the valley of the past and sees a perspective of splendid but unfinished cities. They are unfinished, not always through enmity or accident, but often through fickleness, mental fatigue, and the lust for alien philosophies. We have not only left undone those things we ought to have done, but we have even left undone those things that we wanted to do."

"It is very currently suggested that the modern ... is the heir of all the ages, that he has got the good out of these successive human experiments. .... Is it really true that you and I are two starry towers built up of all the most towering visions of the past? Have we really fulfilled all the great historic ideals one after the other, from our naked ancestor who was brave enough to kill a mammoth with a stone knife, through the Greek citizen and the Christian saint to our own grandfather or great-grandfather, who may have been sabred by the Manchester Yeomanry or shot in the '48? Are we strong enough to spear mammoths, but now tender enough to spare them? Does the cosmos contain any mammoth that we have either speared or spared?"

"This is, first and foremost, what I mean by the narrowness of the new ideas, the limiting effect of the future. Our modern prophetic idealism is narrow because it has undergone a persistent process of elimination. .... The need here is a need of complete freedom for restoration as well as revolution."

"We often read nowadays of the valor or audacity with which some rebel attacks a hoary tyranny or an antiquated superstition. .... The really courageous [person] is he who defies tyrannies young as the morning and superstitions fresh as the first flowers. The only true free-thinker is he whose intellect is as much free from the future as from the past. He cares as little for what will be as for what has been; he cares only for what ought to be."

"There is one metaphor of which the moderns are very fond; they are always saying, 'You can't put the clock back.' The simple and obvious answer is 'You can.' A clock, being a piece of human construction, can be restored by the human finger to any figure or hour. In the same way society, being a piece of human construction, can be reconstructed upon any plan that has ever existed."

Cherish the Choice, Sanctify the Supper

The Anxiety to Act - the Fear of the Iroquois

In preface, I will say that my posts (and Woof-Log) are not prepped to advise vegans and vegetarians, nor are meant to lure such people into bison cook-outs over prairie bonfires (i dream of them). Nor have I yet examined the ethics behind not eating things that move (faster) versus things that don't. Or things that feel (we think) more pain, and those that feel less.

I do feel free to say this, however. ANYONE could change the way i eat now, depending on what came out of their mouth, and how the application of that wisdom (not necessarily their own) countered or complemented my own dining experiences. I will also say this: I think that's the only healthy, self-charitable attitude to have.

This mode of conviction I strive for - a belief with foundations broad enough to allow me to ALTER the non-essential elements of that belief. I think nutrition and eating are, in the bigger scheme of things, fairly petty concerns (i've modified my own diet by degree for years). They must be altered, even as life must be altered. Yet how cannily do comestion's misapprehended nuances mirror the same nuances we encounter in real life. Simplicity is gain, but only following experience's painful complexities.

To point out a general trend among people who conclusively rule out other diets (or beliefs) based on individual, relative, or esoteric experience: They've rarely tried more than a couple of things (in unvaried combination). They have not experimented with enough variously weighted synthesizing (or non-compatible) factors in order to isolate out the causes of their bliss or mal-reactions. I hear many people point-blank refuse to eat raw vegetables because this 'upsets their digestion' (well, lifting weights makes you sore...) Eating raw vegetables, eating meat, eating oatmeal (where, how often, how much, why, what type, with what) can only lead us to unknowables if we do not attempt to formulate any beliefs in the matter, and do not remain flexible in our experimentation. We must not, in helpless defeat, fall under the delusion that each lifestyle and each diet is relative -- all equally worthy and equally healthy. Activate your will. Employ your freedom. Learn, and live.

Do not settle on freewill/freedom at the expense of that which freewill/freedom strives for: Wellbeing beyond our own devices and knowledge. Such wellbeing may well be beyond our ability - that's no reason to discount the truth of such wellbeing. We must strive to ADAPT to what will lead to greater optimum health, find the willingness to so adapt, and alter diet proportion and content in such a way which allows us to adapt. In this case, ancient humans, forboding like the Iroquois, are not our enemies. They are our very selves which we have misread, misjudged, and perversely subverted. We must not, as G. K. Chesteron warns for modern minds, be "forced towards the future by a certain sense of fatigue, not unmixed with terror, with which [we] regard the past." [What Is Wrong with the World ]

A similar esotericism, one with no focus on potentially achievable IDEALS, influences people's reactions to beliefs AND foods of all sorts. We are afraid of death, but we do not know how to die. We are afraid to kill, but we do it daily. We fear disease, but we have lost the art of ease. We mistake our existential journey for pain and pleasure. But we still cannot muster the courage to eat.

To draw your attentions back to meat: Regardless of one's ethics about eating meat, and barring unfavourable medical maladaptations, very few peoples worldwide have any innate biological aversions to meat ingestion and utilization. The opposite pattern holds: It is the one food the human body most readily recognizes and uses. Sushi passes from lips to anus with much greater ease than peanut butter. Sushi and peanut butter TOGETHER, however, synthesize about as well as Nihilism and Christianity. Strangely, solemnly, sacrificially, it seems that by some past mischance or misdeed, our 'herbivorous planet' grew into a carnivore - and we still reel under the weight of that legacy. Another solemnity seizes me - that life must die in order for life to live. That is the one lesson, no matter what we eat, which fewest learn. It is the most important thing to learn about food.

More mundanely, people will NOT feel good eating meat if (1) it is combined with too many starches, particularly hybrid or refined ones (2) it is a small element in a diet in which the bulk of the calories come from carbohydrates or from a fairly high dose of them (40-80%) (and this regardless of what kind of carbohydrates they are) (3) if raw veggs do not complement their diet (4) if their digestive systems and metabolisms have been given no chance to adapt to the change; create new enzymes and different proportions of enzymes, etc. (though animal dairy is not basic or ancient to human health, the body can learn to make lactase to deal with unruly lactose. I advise mother's milk.) (5) if blood sugar regulation and insulin production have been given no time to re-normalize (6) if they do not feel at peace about the IDEA of eating meat, or feel psychological loathing during the process.

To persuade or dissuade, that is no art without a contents for persuasion or dissuasion.
-Paleo-Nate

Fatless and Sapless - the Desaturated Saps

The following taken from Chris Gupta's informed webpages at http://www.newmediaexplorer.org/chris/2006/03/27/the_benefits_
of_saturated_fats.htm

which, in this case, derive from Mary Enig's and Sally Fallon's book The Skinny on Fats http://www.westonaprice.org/knowyourfats/skinny.html#benefits

The Benefits of Saturated Fats

The much-maligned saturated fats ­which Americans are trying to avoid ­are not the cause of our modern diseases. In fact, they play many important roles in the body chemistry:

* Saturated fatty acids constitute at least 50% of the cell membranes. They are what gives our cells necessary stiffness and integrity.
* They play a vital role in the health of our bones. For calcium to be effectively incorporated into the skeletal structure, at least 50% of the dietary fats should be saturated. (38)
* They lower Lp(a), a substance in the blood that indicates proneness to heart disease. (39) They protect the liver from alcohol and other toxins, such as Tylenol. (40)
* They enhance the immune system. (41)
* They are needed for the proper utilization of essential fatty acids.
* Elongated omega-3 fatty acids are better retained in the tissues when the diet is rich in saturated fats. (42)
* Saturated 18-carbon stearic acid and 16-carbon palmitic acid are the preferred foods for the heart, which is why the fat around the heart muscle is highly saturated. (43) The heart draws on this reserve of fat in times of stress.
* Short- and medium-chain saturated fatty acids have important antimicrobial properties. They protect us against harmful microorganisms in the digestive tract.

The scientific evidence, honestly evaluated, does not support the assertion that "artery-clogging" saturated fats cause heart disease. (44) Actually, evaluation of the fat in artery clogs reveals that only about 26% is saturated. The rest is unsaturated, of which more than half is polyunsaturated. (45)

Baaahs from Bustlehead Bourgeoisie

Quoting an affluent:

"Yeah but she said, yeah but she says she, No, said that next week, or she, that she has got, she has got doctors' appointments all week that week, she says" (average acceleration, with outbursts)

By way of contrast, hear a Madison, WI street bum:

"It had a sort of relish taste, rather like pesto relish." (recorded 12 December 2006 at Williamson and Baldwin)

Conjugal Caniness Comes

December 2nd, I dreamt. whitesky on northern fields. dusking over lakota savannah. sunlight to greylight. waited and watched under oak tree on hill. hungry. a great black wolf, a she-wolf, brought me food. piece by piece, she fed me. loping, she-lupus came and went. tossle-maned, raven-fell, tangle-thick, she lay near me. side by side, we shared and ate. she sought me, warmed me, braved me, outloped me. in dark of night, she turned to woman with thick black hair and whitesky skin. do not know her. never saw her in waking life. hope we will share more carcasses. jehovah jireh.