dc:title="Builders break out the bats!" Yeah, that s right. I m a pig-hugger.
I m a fellow cow with a machine gun. One may easily wall off oneself from any continuity of spirit with one s fellow creatures. One may also stick hot pokers in one s eye, or vote Republican, or one of any millions of other proud acts which stand for Numbness.
One may even wave a flag with I AM NUMB printed on it, with a paisley border and little green stripes running through the middle of it. Whole groups of humans occasionally do this. Pro-Bush rallies, fr instance.
But the Religion of Numbness also demands that you NOT KNOW. Then, sometimes, when people suddenly KNOW, they go insane. Mostly from sudden SENSATION.
Me, I got the Sensation from mocking a herd of cows while walking to work in Boulder one day. I proclaim to you, Cows, that as your president, I will legislate greener pastures . Ha Ha.
Stupid Cows. They all gathered around to look at me, with their beautifully liquid cow eyes (which I once dissected in Pre-Med), and gave me a great gift. An electric moment, which haunted me for years, until I sought escape from this Sensation through vegetarianism.
I saw that they were People.
A friend of mine had a similar story he was cow-tipping while drunk one night. He tipped one over she woke up and the look of fear and shock in her eyes mortified him into yes bein a crazy Vegan.
Perhaps the unifying thread here is Personal Contact. Shrink-wrapped cow generally does not communicate the emotional content of their moment of death. If we all had to kill our own cows and pigs why, vegetarianism would be Normal.
Now, I ain t one of them crazy Vegans, no sir. I think they re LUNATICS. I m what you call a typical, everday Starboard Vegetarian.
I only eat Right-Wingers. Lots of Barbecue Sauce, cause they taste like crap. But it s hot and it s got calories, and slides right on down into my gullet, where they belong.
Mmmm-mmm. Hope that Stranger-in-a-Strange-Land Grok stuff ain t true. Ewwww.
I have often pondered on the humanity of Broccoli. And, until the Star Trek Food Machine shows up, or even a good Mineral Food Vat, I shall happily remain Numb to their pleas. Cry, Broccoli, Cry.
Now get in my stomach. Wheeler once suggested that all particles are conscious. Crap.
I m numbing out on that one. Nothing crazier than a Vegan, exceptin a crazy Particlarian.
Anyhoodle.
Byronius, sounding off.
dc:title="Track of the week: The Waterboys, The Pan Within" 
Yesterday, I stopped into the Ebb Tide Cafe, a charming little seaside coffeehouse south of San Francisco loaded with books for the customers to read or buy if so inclined. I was on a bike ride, and I just got a small coffee and started reading James Joyce s Dubliners .
I overheard a few people talking about somebody named Nick and I asked if they were referring to the former owner, the guy who had stocked the cafe with all of the wonderful books.
A middle-aged red haired woman, seated with a kindly looking elderly lady and another blondish younger woman, said yes, Nick, the one with disheviled blond hair. I said I d never noticed his hair and she said, women do, whereupon I noted that I was now concerned whether I d remembered to brush my hair that morning- but in any case being a bike rider with helmet hair provided my excuse.
The elderly lady cast a glance at me and said, you know, you look like a Kennedy. The redhead quickly added, no, I think he looks like John Kerry.
I was a little embarassed by their scrutiny, but I mentioned I d occasionally heard such comparisons, but more often to Ted Danson of Cheers- to which they nodded agreement- and sometimes Gary Hart, the former presidential contender.
They all remembered Hart, particularly becuase of his ill fated affair with Donna Rice which ended his second campaign for president in 1987.
He probably would have been our president if it wasn t for that trollop. said the redhead.
I agreed, but noted that I was pretty sure she had turned out to be a decent person who hadn t tried to capitalize on her fame from the affair, unlike other notorious trollops like Jessica Hahn and, of course, Monica Lewinsky.
You know, I once met Gary Hart, I said in an offhand manner. They all perked up at this, so I began my Gary Hart story.
dc:title="Mars and progressive thought, pt.
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