Men of brains and brawns of women

Men of brains! Let us not be led astray by our low-hanging grapes.

Women of fruit, we can’t say by how much.

When, as so-and-so is said to have said, the abomination stands in the holy place, and all the decimation points of consumer capitalism no longer fit the human concussion, then keep calm and carrion.

When the psychopath of the cycle path sets his sights on the city on the hill, then shoulder the salt, and pass the pepper.

And dos be donny, my furry friend, just this once and for all.

Snidely and the forty whiplashes

Woman in skimpy dress rescued by Phlash Gordon.

Woman in skimpy dress rescued by Phlash Gordon.


Gravity refused to be quantized, thereby creating 4-dimensional space. It’s in its nature.

So mused the monkey who modeled the collapse of a pair of neutron stars after measuring their gravitational waves, oscillating less than the diameter of a proton. It’s all in the book.

From the collapse comes gold. And the other heavy elements. We praise the gods for heavy elements, for without the heavy elements, we wouldn’t have rocks. The parts warehouse would be barren as bottom’s baby, as old Hubbard is said to have reported to the dean of ineptitudes.

I’m trying to kick the habit, whispered the cardinal to the priest. Well within earshot of Mother Superior.

So an Embryo being freed

So an Embryo, being freed from that vegetable life which it enjoyed in the mother’s womb, obtains another more perfect life, by its birth and coming into the light of the world.

They wasn’t sure what to make of themselves. They’d been inflated with self esteem but no overflow valve.

Any idiot could see they were living in a fantasy world of their own makings.

But they had seminal endearing properties. Two bits on the barrelhead. Time for cheese and crackers.

If there were to be a god

If there were to be a god would we need a pope or flocks of doctors of divinities to plead their cases? Set any number of your finest theologians on that riddle and see what they come up with.

Down in the gutter you’ve got to wonder, if something was pulling the strings of the universe, would it be making a distinction between tribes of mammals.

How long can you be in two places at once before you collapse? Only a few watershed moments.

I was there at the beginning

I was there at the beginning, when the first corpuscle came ashore, heaving. I was there when they said many a mouthful, more than enough for a month of sundays.

The word was, she would bend over backwards to do you a big favor. He was a unitarian from the get-go, they said, and a pleuralist for the tobacco lobby. She was declared queen of the countdown at T minus 10.

He never knew his place, but they always set him a spot at the table. That shit-eating grin was as plain as the nose on his face.

She could smell a rat, as the snake was her mascot. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she’d know it when she seed it. The rest is history.

I was there at the end, when the last act of legerdemain petered out. I raise my glass to the good old days, and pray to google that my very words might be immemoralized. Or at least kept in the cache at the national security agency, until the clouds begin to gather.

Head cheese

Head cheese or brawn is a cold cut that originated in Europe. A version pickled with vinegar is known as souse. Head cheese is not a cheese but a terrine or meat jelly made with flesh from the head of a calf or pig (sometimes a sheep or cow), and often set in aspic. The parts of the head used varies, but the brain, eyes, and ears are usually removed. The tongue, and sometimes even the feet and heart, may be included.

Last smoke


Jean d’Arc of the covenant. It had the hallmark of the perfect crime, like the haymarket rackets and the october revolution; beauty is in the eye of the beast. The giant behemoth is the apple of the bride’s eye though he was fond of talking to himself under a bushel of leavings from the hayday of our culture.

In the days that are forgotten.

Strum und Drang

 

And if any man hunger, let him eat at home.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face.

The homes of the natives are the woods and groves; they worship the gods severally and in congregations; all discord and all sorrow is unknown. Death comes to them only when, owing to satiety of life, after holding a banquet and anointing their old age with luxury, they leap from a certain rock into the sea: this mode of burial is the most blissful. More profound than Oscar Wilde. More wild than Johnny Profumo.

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