Fahrt zu Holle....
i've finally gotten 4 straight hours of sleep and can semifunction again. however i do believe that pregnancy/breast feeding is a direct one way microglial draining conduit. i have no more wit or memory. and apparently i have lost all good sense, because i did actually go to a "mommys group" gathering. now i'm sure these would be fairly hideous anywhere, akin to my disasterly experience with the prenatal yoga ohm-earthmommaness, but of course there's nothing quite like the first hand report. ok ok. beyond crunchy, beyond estrogen. what was i thinking. that doesn't even need a question mark, rhetorical doesn't cover it.well i had best go, as my 17 pound smiley doth quake...i did want to write about the term "boggy" but that will have to wait.

"may i have a splash of hopelessly flawed humanity with that mint julep?"
liz and kate purveying the stinky innards of human nature. avarice and greed as incarnations of big daddy power. what else could grow in that garden but large sunflowers of evility and tragedy? ripening in the rays of debris and more debris...dynamic succubi. i guess liz is more an observer or innocente, while kathryn is in her scuda outfit (self constructed unabashadly in denial apparatus). i just love women with southern accents delivering these killjoys.

yes, catacombs and cremation
living in the u.s., it is hard to get the mind around the fact that a major city would be sitting on top of (amongst other more logically predictable things like sewers, old city structures, untertrains) a matrix of tunnels of organized human remains. moreover that random everyday people can wander these tunnels and that some actually hang out/do guerilla art/etc in said tunnels is genuinely astounding. the parisian catacombs. huh. and we haven't even gotten to how macabre and surreal bone filled floor to ceiling tunnels are. someone(s) has also organized the remains by bone type, with a slight aesthetic flair using the skulls to break up the monotony of the long bones. and these are the remains of the relatively privileged. i could spend days in those dank old tunnels. however, i would hope to fall short of the catophiles or whatever those people totally obsessed with catacombs are labeled.
which brings us to cremation and the creation of a hapless human clone race. if you needed a new class of worker bees, guinea pig space colonists for gaia xii, a high school science project to secure that harvard admission, enter remainor reanimator...you could salvage dna from most human remains and clone up tons of peeps from the past or not so past. the exception would be the cremated ones, though not impossible, i would think highly unlikely to get enough viable dna for the remaino-clonometer. if the mormons can claim the souls of the departed as converts to mormonism...add water and evil genius. funny that the later day saints, lds, is just a frame inversion from lsd, which you would need to be on to actually believe the book of mormon. but to each his own.

when i was a girl

i actually did not realize there was a difference between a caftan and a mumu (muu'muu technically)- one being of turkish/ottoman or sometimes russian derivation for men and the other of hawaiian descent for womens. homer sports the mumu. and this really epitomizes my current genderbender identity crisis with the ongoing gestation situation. once a veritable pillar of calm, hyperlogical, finely polished orbital steel, i now stumble through a very foreign, earthly land of unexplained and exponential emotion. i feel (where did that word come from?) suspended in some sort of gender torpor. isn't the quickening some sci-fi thing/stephen king novel? i must record all the pertinent data to take back to my titanium satellite, it explains so much of our observations over the years.

the good news is that in my line of work, one of my business partners is the county medical examiner. this serves as an immense suicide deterrent as i simply cannot fathom him viewing my body (dead or otherwise). so i have extra motivation to suffer through the pain of increased (nice...) migraines that have come with pregnancy.

i do believe i deserve some sort of exulted decoration for my service of living in the styx.
a white badge of courage or displaced urbanite award of the year or something of the like.
someday i might figure out how to title these.
ambassador of the hood travels to remote village with idiots...

hmmm.issues with rock paper scissors. first of all dynamite is the way to go with all of them. it blows all of them up. even you cut the fuse with scissors, it's still explosive, though you might die with it with no lead fuse time. after that scissors and rock are pretty much a draw with maybe a scissors advantage. it would take quite a rock to truly pulverize metal unless you're talking about crapo kindergarten plastic scissors. and then there's pummice etc. paper is a dead loser every time in my book.a rock can pulverize paper. scissors-rock sword in stone.
i'll have to market this new game, more of a new personality mmpi type test. who would choose paper? why rock not dynamite? lawbreakers all.

ok, ok, call me a kgb buzz kill but...
man if you're going to get all hela specialized in super secret international espionage poisons and then use them in the western world for assasinations, would you really want to use something radioactive with a half life of well over 4 months? that's called extremely unusual and inherently traceable with a geiger counter off the back of the cereal box. i can see the appeal of a tasteless, odorless, colorless poison with horrific potential. and maybe the symptoms would be missed in many situations- written off as bad gi with sepsis yada yada. but people's hair falls out for christsakes. it's bad bad bad. bad to use it. and bad to have thought it'd be all clandestine superspy in the first place.