More Mere/Mare Satire?

More Mere/Mare Satire?
   
Gals We Be Guys ...
By Mr Tom Smithy Shy [not his real name] ... with a
little help from
his 'friends' [... and among the things she did not
seem to realize
was that I am content enough to go along with the
myth that I am
an 'only' an alcoholic manic depressive - because
that gives a swift
soft-option, reality-side-stepping, 'get out clause'
to others and
self when the going gets really tough ...]
Are you sitting uncomfortably ... then let's begin
again with a
freshly paraphrased variation on an favourite old
theme ...
The Head was endeavouring to get to the heart of
some apparently base
material offence.  She asked a fundamental seeming
question: 'You are
telling me that she enflamed your front bottom with
a bum son
burrner?'
'I am telling you that she burnt my bottom witha a
bunsen,' corrected
the Mistress of Science [Hons (Dunelm)] biology
teacher, strictly
speaking as ever.
Ms Ursula Umbilical ['umanities, 'ons ('xon)], the
girls' school top
dog, sighed with such depths of knowing resignation
that only a life-
time in a female-principled scholastic environment
could engender. 
Tiring of the basically fundamentally trivial matter
of burnt bulky
biological bottoms, she switched her gaze out of the
window to
observe how some of screaming queen cream of young
British womanhood
were progressing on the playing fields of Rada Minor
Public School. 
They seemed to be enjoying a rather jolly good
hookey hokey hockey
match: Probables versus Possibles. But then ...
A piercingly 'orrible 'owl - that might have been
mistaken for an
owling hoot - rose above the background bedlam to
shatter any
illusion of earthly paradise.  The source was soon
identified: a
stout hermaphrodite figure who had cheated his/her
way into the
school was to be seem visibly prone and writhing. 
No foul had been
whistled, indicating that this was a fair play part
of the game, and
the other players just bullied off elsewhere,
ignoring her/him.
Ms Umbilical turned away from this tender scene with
satisfaction
filling her mind.  Quite clearly, her charges were
well advanced in
the development of their natural instincts and being
properly
prepared for the harshness of the world beyond the
school gates.
Ms Dode Deedes, the biology teacher, felt a tremor
ripple through her
as the Head's attention returned to the abuse of her
tender backside.
'You believe the action in question to have been
deliberate?'
inquired Ms Umbilical sternly.
'At certain levels of consciousness ...' Ms Deeds
began, straying off
her own subject and into another ... and then she
realized the
dangers of this and so paused ... and then simply
answered
precisely: 'Yes'.
'You are quite certain the action had no direct
connexion with
whatever experiment the form was then collectively
engaged in?'
Ms Deedes again paused ... in order that no factual
error should be
contained in her next statement [she was not known
as 'Stickler In-
Deedes' for nothing] ... before replying,
deliberately: 'Quite'.
'As a matter of fact, in what was the form then
engaged, Ms Deedes?' the
Head wondered.
'Testing control solutions for unwanted nucleic acid
traces,' was the
accurate scientific reply.
'This was a reproductive possibilities test, in
other words?'
'Exactly.'
The Head tried out her sigh once more and found it
satisfyingly
slightly further regressed into extreme cynical
world-weariness.
'That explains everything,' she said. 'Do sit down
while we consider
potential complications.'
'I cannot sit down.'
'Oh? ... no of course not, your bottom bits are red
raw and sore,'
the Head said matter of factly without fellow-
feeling or sympathy.
By silent agreement Ms Deedes remained standing
while Ms Umbilical
began lecturing: 'Prudence Pubescent is a high-
spirited girl of good
family.  You well know my opinions on these matters:
individually and
collectively we must be careful to avoid repressing
womenhood's
natural reproductive instincts.  How often must I
remind staff of
this?'
Ms Deeds suddenly flushed hotly at the suggestion of
personal
biological unprofessionalism and/or gender betrayal.
Ms Umbilitcal continued: 'Remember my address On
Balance to the
assembled multitudes just this morning. I said, in
case you have
already forgotten - and memories are so short-term,
if find these
days - that ttwo side of our nature call for equal
balanced
development, viz: emotional; physical. When balance
is lost, actions
indicative of some internal tension will inevitably
occur. Your
lesson, quite clearly, had become too coldly
scientific, thereby
suppressing the natural vitality of young Prudence.
Naturally she
enflamed your buttocks as a consequence.'
Although much provoked by this accusation of
profesional ms-practice,
Ms Deedes held her peace and said nothing - and kept
her job as a
result. Her silence did though seem to confirm the
Head's more
general point about too rationalistic science
repressing true nature.
Considering the matter of Ms Deedes enraged back
parts now closed, Ms
Umbilical picked up the required Health and Safety
Executive
documentation ... and walked over to the fireplace,
mumbling as she
did some garbled fragments of Heraclitus as she did
so, as if in
invocation. She then threw the over-bureaucratic
assessment of human
ms-fortune into the flames.
For some time Ms Umbilical stared into the flames.
'Not creative enough!' she suddenly cried, and the
matter of Ms
Deedes' burnt arse ws finished.
Ho ho ho ... very satirical ... eh?! ...
Footnote Reference text: Hume, Enquiries, XII, III
... 'If we take in
our hand any volume; of divinity or school
metaphysics, for instance,
let us ask: "Does it contain any abstract reasoning
concerning
quantity or number?" No.  "Does it contain any
experimental reasoning
concerning matters of fact and existence?" No.
commit it then to the
flames: for it can contain nothing by sophistry and
illusion.'

To: heraclitussociety@yahoogroups.com
From: "Philip Talbot" <philtal_uk@yahoo.com>  Add to
Address Book
Date: Sat, 10 Apr 2004 12:48:59 -0000
Subject: [Heraclitus Society] Loose Talk ... costing
nowt much really ...
   
From time to time and mostly without knowing it -
unconsciously it
might be said - assorted significant others slip me
bits of theeir
nihilism/ennui/depression/[call 'negative vibes't
what you will]
and 'say' to me, in effect: 'Help me out with that.'
[They never
say 'please' of course ... and offer few thanks when
I do 'enlighten'
them a little.]
Anyway ... me I put my faith in creativity ...
because if you keep
working at it ... you find through it releases from
'The Prison' ...
and even if they are not lasting ... well ... at
least you
have 'escaped' for a while ... and found some more
ways and means of
better living that take you into the future in an
improved state ...
albeit hestitantly ...
... er ... but ...
... have you ever fallen in love with someone you
should not have
fallen in love with? ...
... er ... but ...
... ever fallen in love with someone, but not quite
enough? ...
... er ... but ...
... every just wanted a fuck and abused the concept
of love - or even
friendship - in the process of getting it ...
... er ... but ...
... the motives of any given sex act are often very
varied when you
consider them ... and can boil down to something as
banal
as 'politeness' ... 'well ... he/she asked nicely
... and I did not
like to say 'no' ...' ...
... er ... but ...
... without love it is mostly frustrating and too
creatural ...
that's what I think anyway ...
... er ... but ...
... is 'love' for real or just something we try to
talk ourselves
into believing in? ... if you can ask that question
sincerely then it
is not 'real' for you ... because when you are in
love there is no
doubt about love's existence really, even if the
intensity of its
hold over you rises and falls ...
... it can be something we sort of talk ourselves
into believing
sometimes though ...
... er ... but ...
... the weirdness and the ambiguities of 'The
Absurdity' can also
help to keep me going in the some of worst times,
truth be told ...
Imagination dead, imagine that! Well it might bring
an end to a lot
of frustration and boredom and despair when you
think about it:
because much frustration, boredom, despair, etc,
comes from comparing
and contrasting the perceived actual and the
imagined possible ...
and their is always a huge gap ...
Probably hunger and other physical cravings would
not end if we
became more brain dead ... and that might be just as
bad when you
think about it ... imgine ... a real 'dog's life'
... eg ..
Anyway ...
Admass incorporated modern travesty of St
Valentine's day long over
with [... just lingering traces of fake
correspondences
between 'love' and consumer product ... with the
loved person not
properly embraced ... makes 'love' just another
disposable ...
etc ...] ... and a less commercialized Easter Day to
come ... 'so' I
could conceivably start talking about 'love'
seriously again ... Why
bother though? ... it can seem such a devalued
notion ...
... and oddly, many people find 'love' - even of the
platonic kind -
more embarrassing to talk about than sex ... Oh yes,
lest I forget
there was a marketing-type survey recently that
'proved' that 'lust
is the new love' ... No one asked me though, and I
would have been
with the minority on that one ...
Why not some pornography though?  It debases
humanity, without a
doubt, but we seem to enjoy the debasement - there
can be
something 'sublime' [highs out of lows, and all
that] in it, that
much is true anyway. 
Muses of pornography: a Pig and a Tart.
They promise a lot - everything even [in the
'ultimate orgasm' etc]
but never really quite deliver much lasting
satisfaction ... so aid
the drift towards ennui ... then ... nihilism ...
then ...
Without love you see ...
Porn can be mostly harmless bits of fun though ...
And more uplifting alternatives are possible ...
'The dance along the artery
the circulation of the lymph
are figured in the drift of the stars
ascend to summer in the tree
we move above the moving tree
in light upon the figured leaf
and hear upon the sodden floor
below, the boarhound and the boar
pursue their pattern as before
but reconciled among the star ...'
Today's good sexy writing award goes to TS Eliot ...
even though many
might not recognize it as 'sexy stuff' ...
And when you think about fluid dynamics, restless
rhymatics, and such
like, well it must be possible to create a more
elevated/elevating
sort of porn ...
But you sometimes have to give 'em a little bit more
of what they
might fancy in more prosaic terms of course ... it
might be
instructive though - you never know - or it might
just be impurely
clinical.
When a preorgasmic state is induced by delicate
stroking of the
clitoris with finger- or even tongue-tip, rhythmic
muscular straining
engenders a descent of the uterus by up to one inch
- or
approximately two-point-five CM. Anterior vaginal
wall is
repositioned by similar distances - and there is
likely to be a
copious flow of secretions. The resulting
rearrangement of the mouth
of the cervix means that if full penetrative
intercourse follows soon
afterwards, and ejaculation occurs, not only are the
mutual
sensations experienced during mixed clasping and
thrusting and
internal kissing more pleasurable, but conception -
if possible
within variables of ovarian cycles - is more likely.
In simpler
terms, she comes down to meet him, as he reaches up
to meet her, so
they really do get closer together, and nearer to
breaching the gap
between two people ... and so to making one out of
more-than-one. In
these and other such ways, nature has its ways of
telling us things -
things way beyond words really. And love makes it
more likely,
because, for amongst other reasons, partners who
really love each
other become just as interested in the other's
satisfactions as in
their own ... [a lot of fuckers are just fucking
themselves really]
so it is not so much a question of 'was it good for
you too?' as ...
when it was, you should not have to ask really ...
Anyway ...
Oh ... I am becoming such a tedious preachy
bourgeois formalist ...
aren't I?! ...
...
Pass me another fucking cigarette, please ... and do
you have a
fucking light, please? ...