I Ate This Thing!

It was this: shrimp, stuffed with I don’t know what, which was succulent and spicy, wrapped in bacon, dripping with butter.  You put it in your mouth and your mouth said “Eat this every day.”  Which was alarming, because your mouth normally does not talk to you like that.

Living around the corner from a Louisiana-style restaurant is going to be so damn awesome.

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The Malleus Palinficarum

Courtesy of Katie Allison Granju, we learn that Sarah Palin was blessed by a man whose works include terrorizing a woman with a pet snake into leaving her home.  The comments over at Gawker are pretty hilarious.

In keeping with the theme for the evening, I would point out that, in the actual Malleus Maleficarum, you can read a long discussion on whether witches can actually make a man’s penis disappear or if they can only make it seem as if a man’s penis has disappeared.  Actual quote:

Peter’s member has been taken off, and he does not know whether it is by witchcraft or in some other way by the devil’s power, with the permission of God. Are there any ways of determining or distinguishing between these?

And you thought your day was difficult.

Two Random Observations

1.  Did you ever know someone who just seemed like the kind of person who would end up half way down the block in the middle of the pouring rain without realizing that he needed his umbrella?

Not that it’s raining, mind you.  This is a metaphor.

The question is not “Do you know someone who goes out without an umbrella?” but “Do you know someone who seems to be the type of person who would be constantly caught up in his own thoughts so much that he would regularly go outside when it rained without his umbrella?”

Can you imagine his wife calling him up, “John (not that John is his name, I’m just saying), dear, did you remember your umbrella?” to which he would answer “Yes,” though in a grumbly way because he’s soaked to the bone because, though he remembered his umbrella between the house and the car, he was so distracted by something on NPR, he did not remember it from the car to the office?

And if you know someone like that, my question for you is–is it then the least surprising thing in the world to learn that he went to the University of Chicago?

I say, “No.”  Or is it “yes”?  No, it is not surprising. Yes, it is the least surprising. Yes, I think yes, is it and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

Ha, I’m such a nerd.

Did I ever tell you that the license plates on my first car were PLDY 616 in honor of that?

2.  One of you sent me this lovely description of Walt Whitman’s blow job technique and I’m sharing it with you because it made me so happy this afternoon

“Edward Carpenter said that he had had sex with Walt Whitman and that the poet “thought that people should ‘know’ each other on the physical and emotional planes as well as the mental.” Carpenter in 1923 demonstrated to the young Gavin Arthur just how Walt Whitman gave a blow job. “He snuggled up to me and kissed my ear. His beard tickled my neck. He smelled like the leaves and ferns and soil of autumn woods… . I just lay there in the moonlight that poured in at the window and gave myself up to the loving man’s marvelous petting… . At last his hand was moving between my legs and his tongue was in my belly-button. And then when he was tickling my fundament just behind the balls and I could not hold it any longer, his mouth closed just over the head of my penis and I could feel my young vitality flowing into his old age. (Gay Sunshine Interviews, l:l26-28). Carpenter ~ like Sidney Morse ~ had first met Whitman in 1876 and felt he was carrying on the older man’s religion by communing in this way with the bodies of young boys.”

(I feel I should point out that Arthur was 20.)

I am so in love with the phrase “tickling my fundament” that I want to work it into some conversation today, and yet, how?

Hmm.

And also!  Also, don’t you know that smell?  “Leaves and ferns and soil of autumn woods.”  That’s one of my favorite man-smells.

The World is a Handkerchief

A Spaniard I know just emailed me saying “The World is a Handkerchief,” since she and I know each other (obviously) and have come to discover that we have a mutial aquaintance we didn’t know we had.

She said it’s a saying in Spain.

It put me in mind of Uncle Walt, of course, who compared the grass to God’s handkerchief.  Though today I can’t tell you even remotely about what it means.  Poems are like rituals.  Sometimes the words are full of meaning.  Other times, they just give you something to do with yourself while you wait for meaning to come again.

*****************

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more
than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green
stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we may see
and remark, and say Whose?

Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the
vegetation.

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I
receive them the same.

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out
of their mothers’ laps,
And here you are the mothers’ laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for
nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and
women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken
soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the
end to arrest it,
And ceas’d the moment life appear’d.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

Is Obama a Baby Killer?

In spite of the fact that they’re running a vice-presidential candidate who believes in abortion only if the life of the mother is threatened by continuing the pregnancy…

And let’s stop and think about what this means, just a second.  Not only does it mean that, if you’re raped, you’re expected to carry any resulting pregnancy to term; not only does it mean if you’re some 12 year old girl being molested by an uncle, you’re supposed to carry any resulting pregnancy to term; it means that is no room for nuance.  What if it’s merely your health that’s threatened?  Tough shit.  What if you’re pregnant with triplets and the doctor says you must reduce the number of fetuses in order to give any of them a chance?  Too bad for you.

And now Republicans in our state are pushing “Define Obama as an abortion extremist” as a winning strategy.  (I know.  You’d think “We think making little girls carry their rapists’ babies to term is swell” would be the extremist position, but there you go.)

Let us offer up some facts.  Two facts.  Just two.

1.  The partial-birth abortion ban does not outlaw late term abortions.  It does nothing to reduce the number of late term abortions.  All it does is legislate that doctors cannot perform the procedures safest for the mother or other fetuses in the womb.  It is the hollowist and most cynical of recent anti-abortion victories because it doesn’t do anything to reduce abortions, puts women and other babies at greater risk, and relies on a belief that anti-abortion activists must be, in general, too stupid to see they’ve been sold only a pyrrhic victory.

2.  While we here in Tennessee like to outlaw things twice–such as gay marriage–just to be sure that everyone gets that we really, really mean it, people in other states just need something to be illegal once for it to stick.

So, you ask, why did Obama vote against the Born Alive Infant Protection Act?

Here’s what the Illinois state law is and already was–“physicians must protect the life of a fetus when there is ‘a reasonable likelihood of sustained survival of the fetus outside the womb, with or without artificial support.'” (see here.)

In other words, you already couldn’t legally kill a baby that was born during a failed abortion attempt.

Why, then, would anti-abortion folks be pushing for yet another law that would make it super-dooper illegal to kill a baby born during a failed abortion?

Frankly speaking, because that’s been their winning strategy–to pass legislation that doesn’t actually have any effect, but gives them a mark in the win column.

And I guess it’s effective so there’s that.  Hell, this will probably be an effective rallying cry for them.  But I just thought someone should point out the truth.