Friday, January 29, 2016

Quest For Fire



80,000 years ago, man's survival in a vast uncharted land depended on the possession of fire. / For those early humans, fire was an object of great mystery, since no one had mastered its creation. Fire had to be stolen from nature, it had to be kept alive - sheltered from wind and rain, guarded from rival tribes. / Fire was a symbol of power and a means of survival. The tribe who possessed fire, possessed life.


I was finally able to watch Quest for Fire on Netflix…the movie was made in 1981. I was 11. My dad often talked about this movie and I thought about it over the years and came across it the other night and…what a great movie.

I was particularly struck by the scene where a more advance early human shows another man how to create fire. With no dialogue to use the only way to convey the power of what this early man is witnessing is through facial expressions and grunts but with just these, the scene is magic. 

This reminded me of what I read in E.O. Wilson’s book, “The Social Conquest of Earth” about the importance of fire and meat in the evolutionary history of man. Wilson pointed out that our brains are incredible nutrient-sucks; brains require more nutrients than all the other organs and evolutionarily speaking, meat is one of the important nutrients feeding the brain. Wilson pointed out that lighting caused rolling fires over dry grass lands which rolled up animals in the fire, which early humans would then eat.  

In the movie one tribe learns to transport fire (smoldering embers in a tree-trunk like carrier) that can then be used to build larger fires in another location. But, another tribe has learned to CREATE fire.

The great thing about the scene is how the individual mind and the collective mind both explode; the fire would cook the meat that would explode the brain. 

Sublime.

I can’t find that specific scene on youtube but here is the trailer:


Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Orange is the New Trump



It’s time to think about time; time to think about amount of time; namely your amount of time. Black/white…the fallacy of the excluded middle doesn’t exist for time…your time. Your time is either (strong word I know but I insist on using “either” –one or the other, not both) finite or infinite. No ands ifs or butts. Choose carefully. Weigh accordingly. Balance, Daniel son.

You know what, scratch that, I don’t want to talk about time anymore. Let’s talk about ear hair. Specifically the immense joy that comes from removing a short, almost subatomic ear hair with nothing but your fingernails and the kind of gritty perseverance that is usually reserved for describing an Olympic athlete. I always curse at my ear hair immediately after removal. “Yeah motherfucker, you can suck it, ear hair!” You see ear hair is a sign of, gulp, old age, double gulp. And age, old age, is the dying light against which I rage (song). And is there a better symbol of old age than a man’s ear hair? I think not. Ugly, foul, immoral, ear hair popping out horizontally, clad in black from a pasty white ear lobe drawing ALL kinds of attention…to…your age…and when we get deep and all profound about it…your…gulp…double gulp…time. Yes, time or in this particular case, my time…wrapped up in an ear hair or the oncoming onslaught of ear hairs…indicating, intimating, symbolizing, my time and lack thereof. That is why I curse the ear hair(s). Rage I will against time, and ear hair, by living. Furiously, living life the way life ought to be lived…in defiance of ear hair, in defiance of time…without limits, without thought of the end…of ear hair(s)…or life. I won’t brood over death, I’m too busy living, especially when I pluck ear hair(s).

But speaking of brooding…over death. I fear Donald Trump might have a legitimate shot at obtaining the nomination for the grand ole tanning party. The dude is so orange. So very orange. How does one get to be the color of combo cheese? Now, truth be told, Combos are delicious treats but I don’t think Mr. Trump is covered in combo cheese for if he were, there wouldn’t be a need to all this hullabaloo. You are covered in Combo cheese? Great, you get the nomination.

Speaking of nominations, what is going on with the Oscars? Diversity is of value, be it gene health or music, or diet, or sexual partners in especially quick relationships. The Oscars are subjective awards for art. You don’t have to major in philosophy with a concentration in aesthetics to know that determining what is good or bad art is subjective; the same goes for best picture, director, actress, etc. Could it be that railing about the diversity in subjective award nominations is tantamount to treating the symptoms and ignoring the disease? 

Speaking of disease, what the hell is going on with Donald Trump? It’s like he has agent orange from Nam. Didn’t he get out of Nam because of his squash league at the health club? I digress, Combos are a delicious treat.

Friday, January 22, 2016

The Royal You



We asked, The Royal You answered

Mariah Carey got a 35-carat engagement ring.

What is the best thing your man ever got you?


Drunk. -Francy Telluride, Occupational Theraflu



A 35 carrot…crisper. -Jenny Whong, Fat Separater




A secretary job. -Hillary Clinton, Suit Pant Wearer

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

The Royal You




We asked, The Royal You Answered

Actor Jamie Foxx rescued a man from a burning car after an accident took place near his Los Angeles-area home.

What’s the most heroic thing you’ve ever done?



I rescued a sliver of dignity after a public anal oil leakage incident resulting from a chip binge. -Ron Olestra, Futility Impactor




Finished season 2 of Seinfeld without blinking. -Himmel Guvesant, Proctor and Gambler


Gave my body to science. -Roy Burke-Hall, Financial Analyst


Thursday, January 14, 2016

Moving On




2016 is in, full, swing. Could a year be in partial swing? Regardless, I am back to work, on my back, as I’ve decided to become a prostitute. No, seriously, my back has been weak since about a week back. So there’s that. The Golden Globes were last Sunday and Ricky Gervais introduced Mel Gibson and didn’t say anything about Mel looking like an old catcher’s mitt, which I thought was nice of Ricky. Crazy year already huh? The Browns hired a new coach, Hue Jackson. Cleveland Plain Dealer columnist Terry Pluto says there is cause for hope. Terry, Terry, Terry, as long as one can inhale and excrete bodily fluids, there is cause for hope. Call me when there is cause for optimism. In fact text me when the Browns reach 500, I’ll take you out for some objectivity, my treat. The Browns are like an infected scrotum, in dire need of help but too painful to touch. Moving on. Donald Trump remains a headline maker but what slays me is how orange he is and how white his eyes are. It’s like he’s some sort of agent orange even though he skipped Nam. How does the tanning light not hit around his eyes? Some things are better left unknown, like Donald Trump. Moving on. I got an iwatch for xmas. It tells me to stand every hour, which is really annoying in the middle of work; I told you about my new line of work right? Seriously, it does track my runs and exercise and I have lost some weight since the holidays, mostly from my wallet but hey, gotta keep the economy moving right…can’t spend it in hell right…

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In The Static

He had about 4 hours and 30 minutes. He, like Jack London, was going to use his time. What else did a man have…but time? Christians hav...