Wednesday, November 19, 2003
Feline Exploitation Curiosa (aka: "catblogging")
I'd like to speak to all of you about an alarming developing trend that has been bothering me for some time. Namely the contagion of kitty cat pornography (aka: "catblogging") coursing its way through the circulatory system of our nation's cultural body politic.
First of all let me just say that I have nothing against kitty cats. I like kitty cats too. I too struggle with a bakers dozen, at least, of fond and giddy memories of cherished kitty cat cavorts and cuddly capers. I myself subscribed to Kitty Cat Figurine magazine for nearly twenty five years. I am a survivor myself. Whats more, one of my own favorite kitty cats, beloved and doted on as only a favorite kitty cat can be, recently croaked...I mean passed beyond!...earlier this Spring. It was very sad, perhaps even tragic depending on how much you'd had to drink.
Anyway, I buried her beneath a carpet of flowering forget-me-nots aside a shady woodlot while a small volunteer unit of the local Order of Hibernians played a sad fiddle keen and Saint Anthony himself hovered above a Forsythia bush singing Abide with me; fast falls the eventide.
She was a fine specimen and lived to the ripe old age of 19 or 37, I believe. At least it seemed like 37. Anyhow, she was intelligent too, you betcha, the smartest kitty cat I've ever known. And highly agile. She could leap in an instant from a otherwise motionless stance and deposit herself squarley, razor honed nippers flexed, upon the waiting breastbone of her chosen affection. Which could be a fairly jarring experience, to say the least, especially if one were unprepared for such displays of demonstrative grace. Respected she was.
Respected also for her ability to master complex phonetic relationships and patiently perform intricate outdoor autopsies on an ungodly number of small woodland creatures on an almost daily basis. That's how smart she was. She was like some kind of Spartan feline lamia coroner running around with a hatchet and a seclusion 3-D flea collar. Its was, to be honest for the most part, fairly unmerciful business, and some naysayers claimed she was little more than an attentive furbelow while others insisted she was nothing but a despotic hairy homicidal lunatic who shit in a box of sand and terrorized the pastural meadows and secretive forest floors of her own local critterdom. Kind of like ..well, never mind. In any event, I reject either assertion and suggest she was merely a fearless survivor with an unusual grasp of polysyllabic sounds. Kind of like...well, never mind. And lets face it, even your basic hedgerow or backyard birdhouse is a cacaphony of high pitched shrieks and trills and unholy blood curdling squeals. A seething Tartarus of brutality, genocidal horrors and naked sex crazed depravities. Such are the ways of the forest floor.
But thats not what concerns me here today. What concerns me today is what I like to refer to as nothing short of: The Pussification of Western Maleficence! Thats right. The slow torturous destruction of harmful malefic mischievous western cultural bad-ass evil through the constant repetitious exposure to an unsparing assortment of cloying saccaharine photogenic drivel known as "kitty porn!" (aka: "catblogging")
Personally I don't like the term "kitty porn" and prefer to identify such material as feline exploitation curiosa. I suggest you do the same whenever possible as "kitty porn" is nothing more than a clever suggestive ploy by feline exploitation curiosa dealers and collectors to diguise their true motives, move about stealthily behind a false front of edgy villainous waggery and feigned menace, while simultaneously luring their victims into a sop-bath of esthetcized dull witted kitty-catling pathos bordering on jabbering craziness. Adult baby-talk syndrome is a good indicator of jabbering feline exploitation curiosa dementia. Also know as JFECD disorder.
Now you may say to yourself, "so what, who cares about cute pictures of adhorable little kitty cats?" Eh? "It's just the harmless overindulgence of devoted moonstruck pet owners." Yeah, well, you'd be wrong. Its dangerous and unsettling and threatens to reduce each of us to doting dull witted gurgling saps who carry on eerie jejune goo-gooing conversations with skittish little natually homicidal burkers!
I'm telling you, heed this admonishment, do not allow yourself to be lured by the fervent milksopian glow of feline exploitation curiosa dependence. Once you've got that kitty on your back theres no telling how far you will go to satisfy any slavish maudlin craving. You'll start out with one kitty cat, and the next thing you know you'll need another kitty cat, and another and another and yet another. Nothing will satisfy your hunger and pretty soon you'll have kitty cats dangling from the draperies and crawling out from under the French settee with carved mahogany swan heads and your ears will fill with spectral yowlings and incorporeal ululations as if your home were bedeviled by a thousand ruttish ghouls haunting a heathered moor!
And it doesn't end there. Before you know it the gateway will be swung wide open and you'll be swept away on a rosewater current that spills into a vast sea of explicitly mawkish cat fancier degeneracies. At the very worst you may become completely lost in the bizarre sub-culture bazaar of Bradford Exchange kitty cat ornamental plate collecting! A cheesy orgy of ghastly bric-a-brac and knick knackery that would have scared Batu Khan's advancing hordes back across the Volga had such frippery been available at the time.
If you aren't familiar with the Bradford Exchange please allow me to introduce you to a small sampling of what I'm talking about. Because of the offensive nature of the following material I refuse to post these images here but please feel free to view them via the links provided below.
This page should give you a good idea what awaits you should you decide to lift a cup to the wassails of feline exploitation curiosa.
1- Click on the thumbnails for a larger image.
2- Kitty Cats and Bluebirds in a little cottage? Think about it! I don't think they even allow for this kind of thing in Amsterdam. See for yourself.
3- Finally (I don't even know what to say here) but this appears to be some kind of depiction of post coitus drivel. Which is ridiculous in and of itself if you think about it. Who wants to look at post-coitus drivel? And what is the point of coitus drivel in the first place if you can't get a good look at the coitus? Afterall, without the coitus its simply drivel. Who knows, maybe its pre-coitus drivel. In any case its offensive on so many levels that I'm thinking of starting my own political action committee or think tank or mass mail order activist network or blog to fight back against such assaults on common decency.
I'll be back later with more on the The Pussification of Western Maleficence, its further implications, as well as observations on those (you know who you are!) who barter in such monstrous invention.
But right now I feel dirty. Just revisiting this whole subject has sanded my emotions bare and after eighteen straight hours of preparing this statement I'm in need of rest. I plan to take a shower and have a strong drink and sharpen my Browning chisel point carbon fiber Piranha Knife for tomorrow's action. Then I will take a long nap and dream of shrieking horrors and the Great Possum and all the little depravities of the forest floor.
Good night and don't let the bed bugs bite.
*
First of all let me just say that I have nothing against kitty cats. I like kitty cats too. I too struggle with a bakers dozen, at least, of fond and giddy memories of cherished kitty cat cavorts and cuddly capers. I myself subscribed to Kitty Cat Figurine magazine for nearly twenty five years. I am a survivor myself. Whats more, one of my own favorite kitty cats, beloved and doted on as only a favorite kitty cat can be, recently croaked...I mean passed beyond!...earlier this Spring. It was very sad, perhaps even tragic depending on how much you'd had to drink.
Anyway, I buried her beneath a carpet of flowering forget-me-nots aside a shady woodlot while a small volunteer unit of the local Order of Hibernians played a sad fiddle keen and Saint Anthony himself hovered above a Forsythia bush singing Abide with me; fast falls the eventide.
She was a fine specimen and lived to the ripe old age of 19 or 37, I believe. At least it seemed like 37. Anyhow, she was intelligent too, you betcha, the smartest kitty cat I've ever known. And highly agile. She could leap in an instant from a otherwise motionless stance and deposit herself squarley, razor honed nippers flexed, upon the waiting breastbone of her chosen affection. Which could be a fairly jarring experience, to say the least, especially if one were unprepared for such displays of demonstrative grace. Respected she was.
Respected also for her ability to master complex phonetic relationships and patiently perform intricate outdoor autopsies on an ungodly number of small woodland creatures on an almost daily basis. That's how smart she was. She was like some kind of Spartan feline lamia coroner running around with a hatchet and a seclusion 3-D flea collar. Its was, to be honest for the most part, fairly unmerciful business, and some naysayers claimed she was little more than an attentive furbelow while others insisted she was nothing but a despotic hairy homicidal lunatic who shit in a box of sand and terrorized the pastural meadows and secretive forest floors of her own local critterdom. Kind of like ..well, never mind. In any event, I reject either assertion and suggest she was merely a fearless survivor with an unusual grasp of polysyllabic sounds. Kind of like...well, never mind. And lets face it, even your basic hedgerow or backyard birdhouse is a cacaphony of high pitched shrieks and trills and unholy blood curdling squeals. A seething Tartarus of brutality, genocidal horrors and naked sex crazed depravities. Such are the ways of the forest floor.
But thats not what concerns me here today. What concerns me today is what I like to refer to as nothing short of: The Pussification of Western Maleficence! Thats right. The slow torturous destruction of harmful malefic mischievous western cultural bad-ass evil through the constant repetitious exposure to an unsparing assortment of cloying saccaharine photogenic drivel known as "kitty porn!" (aka: "catblogging")
Personally I don't like the term "kitty porn" and prefer to identify such material as feline exploitation curiosa. I suggest you do the same whenever possible as "kitty porn" is nothing more than a clever suggestive ploy by feline exploitation curiosa dealers and collectors to diguise their true motives, move about stealthily behind a false front of edgy villainous waggery and feigned menace, while simultaneously luring their victims into a sop-bath of esthetcized dull witted kitty-catling pathos bordering on jabbering craziness. Adult baby-talk syndrome is a good indicator of jabbering feline exploitation curiosa dementia. Also know as JFECD disorder.
Now you may say to yourself, "so what, who cares about cute pictures of adhorable little kitty cats?" Eh? "It's just the harmless overindulgence of devoted moonstruck pet owners." Yeah, well, you'd be wrong. Its dangerous and unsettling and threatens to reduce each of us to doting dull witted gurgling saps who carry on eerie jejune goo-gooing conversations with skittish little natually homicidal burkers!
I'm telling you, heed this admonishment, do not allow yourself to be lured by the fervent milksopian glow of feline exploitation curiosa dependence. Once you've got that kitty on your back theres no telling how far you will go to satisfy any slavish maudlin craving. You'll start out with one kitty cat, and the next thing you know you'll need another kitty cat, and another and another and yet another. Nothing will satisfy your hunger and pretty soon you'll have kitty cats dangling from the draperies and crawling out from under the French settee with carved mahogany swan heads and your ears will fill with spectral yowlings and incorporeal ululations as if your home were bedeviled by a thousand ruttish ghouls haunting a heathered moor!
And it doesn't end there. Before you know it the gateway will be swung wide open and you'll be swept away on a rosewater current that spills into a vast sea of explicitly mawkish cat fancier degeneracies. At the very worst you may become completely lost in the bizarre sub-culture bazaar of Bradford Exchange kitty cat ornamental plate collecting! A cheesy orgy of ghastly bric-a-brac and knick knackery that would have scared Batu Khan's advancing hordes back across the Volga had such frippery been available at the time.
If you aren't familiar with the Bradford Exchange please allow me to introduce you to a small sampling of what I'm talking about. Because of the offensive nature of the following material I refuse to post these images here but please feel free to view them via the links provided below.
This page should give you a good idea what awaits you should you decide to lift a cup to the wassails of feline exploitation curiosa.
1- Click on the thumbnails for a larger image.
2- Kitty Cats and Bluebirds in a little cottage? Think about it! I don't think they even allow for this kind of thing in Amsterdam. See for yourself.
3- Finally (I don't even know what to say here) but this appears to be some kind of depiction of post coitus drivel. Which is ridiculous in and of itself if you think about it. Who wants to look at post-coitus drivel? And what is the point of coitus drivel in the first place if you can't get a good look at the coitus? Afterall, without the coitus its simply drivel. Who knows, maybe its pre-coitus drivel. In any case its offensive on so many levels that I'm thinking of starting my own political action committee or think tank or mass mail order activist network or blog to fight back against such assaults on common decency.
I'll be back later with more on the The Pussification of Western Maleficence, its further implications, as well as observations on those (you know who you are!) who barter in such monstrous invention.
But right now I feel dirty. Just revisiting this whole subject has sanded my emotions bare and after eighteen straight hours of preparing this statement I'm in need of rest. I plan to take a shower and have a strong drink and sharpen my Browning chisel point carbon fiber Piranha Knife for tomorrow's action. Then I will take a long nap and dream of shrieking horrors and the Great Possum and all the little depravities of the forest floor.
Good night and don't let the bed bugs bite.
*
Monday, November 03, 2003
Knight of the Golden Arches
Continued from Corrente.....
And what the hell does "Judeo-Christian" mean? And is it really anything at all aside from a marketing token? Maybe I missed an issue of the Weekly Standard or a special greeting from David Brickner, I can't be sure, but in any case, wouldn't a more correct term, at the least, be Judaic? As in Judaic-Christian. Or is "Judeo-Christian" some kind of variant of that whole Ladino language thing? Is it anything like Karate? Nevermind.
Whats important to remember about the Crusades, Clifford, aside from the fact that they were a miserable military failure in almost every respect, tumbling into sheer barbaric lunacy and hallucinagenic bad craziness costumed in high metier, is that the Chistian Crusaders didn't deliver the high art of civilization to the Islamic world. They delivered a good deal of misery, cruelty, genocide, fanatical religious intolerance and altogether un-civilized bad behavior in general. But high end civilization, not exactly. In all too many respects the opposite seems to be the case. The Islamic world made civilization available to the Christian Crusaders - who reciprocated, in too many instances, by piling a big bunch of sticks at the base of whatever they were offered and and lighting it on fire.
And about those Mongols Clifford? Consider this. If Baibars and Qutuz had not led their Egyptian army to a victory over the Mongols at Ain Jalut in 1260 (ten years before the onset of the Eighth Crusade) there may have been little left of European Christianity and no golden arches to genuflect before or cowboys or any other trifles baubles and beads of western culture as we know it today. Think about that the next time you and your McNugget munching Rightwingerville conquistador cowpokes are dividing up the historic spoils with respect to who's in debt to who for saving whoever from whatever and so forth. Remember, you and your "Judeo-Christian West" may owe your own ass at some point down the line to an army of Egyptians and the ghosts of those who perished near Damascus in 1303 when the final lance was driven through the sordid forehead of the Mongol advance. Think about it Cliff. The Egyptians may have saved European Christian culture from the monstrous bloodbath of the prowling Mongol hordes! Humbling thought hain't it Cliff. Assuming you have any idea what a humbling thought constitutes.
On the subject of "Judeo-Christian West" and the tip toe through the bluebonnets that Cliff apparently imagines it too have been, let me also add this point. Before the Crusades were fully extinquished at Acre the ever excitable pious medieval Christains had long been prosecuting so-called anti-Christian heresies. "Judeo"-ism being a prime whipping boy. Anti-Semitic pogroms in England and Europe gave birth to all manner of quackeries designed to rid the "Judeo-Christian West" of the of the "Judeo" member of that cheery duet. In 1290 England's Edward I ordered his country's Jewish population to depart straightaway. And don't bother packing neither. Into the boat with you Jew, and if you're lucky enough to make it across the English Channel you'll find more of the same warm welcome wagon "Judeo-Christian" Crusader brotherly love on the far shore. So the miserable yarn unfolds. In 1236 Chrsitian crusaders instructed the Jews of Anjou and Poitou France to be baptized. Those who refused, numbering approximately 3000, were trampled to death under the hoofs of the crusaders horses.
A wafer? Hows that for a Happy Meal Cliff? And on and on it goes.
The notorious "yellow badge" which appeared in Nazi Germany makes an early appearence as well. For instance, in early 14th century Spain:
I don't think even Clifford May needs to be reminded of the Spanish Inquisition that followed nearly two hundred years later. Do I really need to go into Ferdinand and Isabella's God fearin' policy stance on "Judeo-Christian" cohabitation. Cliff?
Whenever I read about some bloviating Evangelical windbag explaining how some costumed fraud like George W. Bush came to be appointed by God or read some bit of holy-hoodwink horseshit from clowns like C. Dullard May or have to listen to some frog-eyed hick from the Southern Baptist Convention or some foul snarling mountebanke like William Donohue explain to me what God wants or what Biblical Law decrees or any other number of offensive imbecilities I can't help wondering how we came to be transported back to some kind of age of crusading stupidity. And who are these nuts signing up for this Ninth Crusade anyway?
One more thing Cliff, before I leap from my high white horse to rescue a trembling vesper sparrow from the jaws of a slobbering tutelary demon or stop a runaway orphan train from colliding with a schoolbus full of blind nuns returning from a Sisters of Santa Clara picnic - or what-ever. Do you really think that the Children's Crusades, for instance, were some high moment in the annals of Western civilization? And who in their right mind would believe that the internationally recognized symbol of the Red Cross is some kind of tribute to such mind bending insanity? And while I'm at it. Does GW Bush really think he's St. George slaying dragons and saving princesses in a fairy tale?
***
Uncle Karl closed the evenings foreign policy briefing book and looked down at the President fast asleep, dreaming of sloe-eyed princesses and fabulous dragons and crusades yet to be born. He snugged the blankets of the bed, kissed the boy good night and left the room in search of spooky Uncle Cheney.
The End. Ay-yi-yi.
*The International Red Cross is currently in the process of developing a new international emblem which will supplement both the traditional red cross on a white field as well as the red crescent. Thereby eliminating any false religious connotations attached to the current emblems. "Over 180 countries use one or the other of these emblems but some find it difficult to use either because they are seen as having religious connotations." See ICRC link above.
Notes 1-5. All blockquotes above excerpted from The Story of Civilization: Part IV
"The Age of Faith" by Will Durant. Simon and Schuster, New York, 1950.
Back to Corrente/Part 1 of post
And what the hell does "Judeo-Christian" mean? And is it really anything at all aside from a marketing token? Maybe I missed an issue of the Weekly Standard or a special greeting from David Brickner, I can't be sure, but in any case, wouldn't a more correct term, at the least, be Judaic? As in Judaic-Christian. Or is "Judeo-Christian" some kind of variant of that whole Ladino language thing? Is it anything like Karate? Nevermind.
Whats important to remember about the Crusades, Clifford, aside from the fact that they were a miserable military failure in almost every respect, tumbling into sheer barbaric lunacy and hallucinagenic bad craziness costumed in high metier, is that the Chistian Crusaders didn't deliver the high art of civilization to the Islamic world. They delivered a good deal of misery, cruelty, genocide, fanatical religious intolerance and altogether un-civilized bad behavior in general. But high end civilization, not exactly. In all too many respects the opposite seems to be the case. The Islamic world made civilization available to the Christian Crusaders - who reciprocated, in too many instances, by piling a big bunch of sticks at the base of whatever they were offered and and lighting it on fire.
For five centuries, from 700 to 1200, Islam led the world in power, order, and extent of government, in refinement of manners, in standards of living, in humane legislation and religious toleration, in literature, scholarship, science, medicine, and philosophy. [...] In Islam art and culture were more widely shared than in medieval Christendom; kings were calligraphers, and merchants, like physicians, might be philosophers. [...] The Moslems seem to have been better gentlemen than their Christian peers; they kept their word more frequently, showed more mercy to the defeated, and were seldom guilty of such brutality as marked the Christian capture of Jerusalem in 1099. Christian law continued to use ordeal by battle, water, or fire, while modern Moslem law was developing an advanced jurisprudence and an enlightened judiciary. [...] The influence of Christendom on Islam was almost limited to religion and war. Probably from Christian exemplars came Mohammedan mysticism, monasticism, and the worship of saints. The figure and story of Jesus touched the Moslem soul, and appeared sympathetically in Moslem poetry and art. ~2~
And about those Mongols Clifford? Consider this. If Baibars and Qutuz had not led their Egyptian army to a victory over the Mongols at Ain Jalut in 1260 (ten years before the onset of the Eighth Crusade) there may have been little left of European Christianity and no golden arches to genuflect before or cowboys or any other trifles baubles and beads of western culture as we know it today. Think about that the next time you and your McNugget munching Rightwingerville conquistador cowpokes are dividing up the historic spoils with respect to who's in debt to who for saving whoever from whatever and so forth. Remember, you and your "Judeo-Christian West" may owe your own ass at some point down the line to an army of Egyptians and the ghosts of those who perished near Damascus in 1303 when the final lance was driven through the sordid forehead of the Mongol advance. Think about it Cliff. The Egyptians may have saved European Christian culture from the monstrous bloodbath of the prowling Mongol hordes! Humbling thought hain't it Cliff. Assuming you have any idea what a humbling thought constitutes.
On the subject of "Judeo-Christian West" and the tip toe through the bluebonnets that Cliff apparently imagines it too have been, let me also add this point. Before the Crusades were fully extinquished at Acre the ever excitable pious medieval Christains had long been prosecuting so-called anti-Christian heresies. "Judeo"-ism being a prime whipping boy. Anti-Semitic pogroms in England and Europe gave birth to all manner of quackeries designed to rid the "Judeo-Christian West" of the of the "Judeo" member of that cheery duet. In 1290 England's Edward I ordered his country's Jewish population to depart straightaway. And don't bother packing neither. Into the boat with you Jew, and if you're lucky enough to make it across the English Channel you'll find more of the same warm welcome wagon "Judeo-Christian" Crusader brotherly love on the far shore. So the miserable yarn unfolds. In 1236 Chrsitian crusaders instructed the Jews of Anjou and Poitou France to be baptized. Those who refused, numbering approximately 3000, were trampled to death under the hoofs of the crusaders horses.
In 1243 the entire Jewish population of Belitz, near Berlin, was burned alive on the charge that some of them had defiled a consecrated Host. [...] In 1298 every Jew in Rottingen was burned to death on the charge of desecrating a sacramental wafer. Rindfleisch, a pious baron, organized and armed a band of Christians sworn to kill all Jews; they completely exterminated the Jewish community at Wurtzburg, and slew 698 Jews in Nuremberg. ~3~
A wafer? Hows that for a Happy Meal Cliff? And on and on it goes.
The notorious "yellow badge" which appeared in Nazi Germany makes an early appearence as well. For instance, in early 14th century Spain:
"the ecclesiastical Council of Zamora (1313) decreed the imposition of the badge, the segregation of the Jewish from the Christian population, and a ban against the employment of jewish physicians by Christians, or of Chrsitian servants by Jews. ~4~
I don't think even Clifford May needs to be reminded of the Spanish Inquisition that followed nearly two hundred years later. Do I really need to go into Ferdinand and Isabella's God fearin' policy stance on "Judeo-Christian" cohabitation. Cliff?
Whenever I read about some bloviating Evangelical windbag explaining how some costumed fraud like George W. Bush came to be appointed by God or read some bit of holy-hoodwink horseshit from clowns like C. Dullard May or have to listen to some frog-eyed hick from the Southern Baptist Convention or some foul snarling mountebanke like William Donohue explain to me what God wants or what Biblical Law decrees or any other number of offensive imbecilities I can't help wondering how we came to be transported back to some kind of age of crusading stupidity. And who are these nuts signing up for this Ninth Crusade anyway?
One more thing Cliff, before I leap from my high white horse to rescue a trembling vesper sparrow from the jaws of a slobbering tutelary demon or stop a runaway orphan train from colliding with a schoolbus full of blind nuns returning from a Sisters of Santa Clara picnic - or what-ever. Do you really think that the Children's Crusades, for instance, were some high moment in the annals of Western civilization? And who in their right mind would believe that the internationally recognized symbol of the Red Cross is some kind of tribute to such mind bending insanity? And while I'm at it. Does GW Bush really think he's St. George slaying dragons and saving princesses in a fairy tale?
Fear nothing" he told her, "for I will help you in the name of Jesus Christ." At that moment the monster emerged from the water. George made the sign of the cross, recommended himself to Christ, charged, and plunged his lance into the beast. Then he bade the maiden throw her girdle around the neck of the wounded dragon; she did, and the beast, yeilding like any gallant to so potent a charm, followed her docilely forever afterward. ~5~
Uncle Karl closed the evenings foreign policy briefing book and looked down at the President fast asleep, dreaming of sloe-eyed princesses and fabulous dragons and crusades yet to be born. He snugged the blankets of the bed, kissed the boy good night and left the room in search of spooky Uncle Cheney.
The End. Ay-yi-yi.
*The International Red Cross is currently in the process of developing a new international emblem which will supplement both the traditional red cross on a white field as well as the red crescent. Thereby eliminating any false religious connotations attached to the current emblems. "Over 180 countries use one or the other of these emblems but some find it difficult to use either because they are seen as having religious connotations." See ICRC link above.
Notes 1-5. All blockquotes above excerpted from The Story of Civilization: Part IV
"The Age of Faith" by Will Durant. Simon and Schuster, New York, 1950.
Back to Corrente/Part 1 of post
