In My Perfect World

A solitary delusion is but a fantasy

A shared delusion is like a dream

A shared delusion, supported by others of like mind,

Becomes Reality

Chapter 64

Mordecai who had been languishing between the two women since Rebel walked up, let out a long, almost wistful-sounding sigh as he relaxed.

(“Chianna!…watch this!) With that, Rebel nudged her, then nodded in Mordecai’s direction.

While Chianna observed, Rebel suddenly wheeled around to face Mordecai directly, and as he lifted his head, she pulled her already provocatively skimpy shorts down to her knees, and said “Does that answer your question?”

(“Beautifully! and quite eloquently…your communication skills, especially the listening is quite remarkable…Now…Who’s my good girl?”)

(“We’ve got a confession to make…we’re both very, very naughty girls!”) With that, Chianna pulled her shorts down as well, as both women laughed hysterically.

(“And there’s such a lot of good ways to be bad.”) Mordecai was clearly amused.

Depending upon how your mind works, this all can be viewed from a number of different perspectives:

Most people don’t give the idea of undressing, or being generally naked around their pets a second thought, but whether it is a matter of either sentience or erotica, once the idea of higher-level thinking is introduced, we may be given pause, (or even paws)….

But if your ‘pet’ suddenly proves to be a trans-dimensional being of far superior intelligence than yourself, perhaps the difference in cognition, perception, intelligence, and even wisdom between them and you might seem even more like beastiality to them than the other way around.

“One beings ceiling may be another beings floor.”

“…and sometimes, a dog is just a dog…but if you always treat them with the same  respect due to any living being, you’ll never go wrong.”

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 11th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

Chapter 61

By this point, everyone was awake and starting to get out of bed. 

Now that the novelty of telepathy was somewhat worn off, it was a mixture of vocalized and unvocalized comments, but there were no longer any secrets among any of them from this point.

Elliott and Chianna were quick to offer their hospitality.

“How about if I take the drink orders and Elliott takes your meal requests?”

Everyone was famished and parched, and nothing that was available at ‘Chez Monroe’ was off-limits.

“How about if I help with the food ?” Aimée offered. “What-cha say, Boss?”

“Do you mind giving me a hand with the beverages Jedidiah?” Chianna gave him a mischievous look; she had never called him by his full name before, and ‘Jed’ just sounds a little bit too “Jethro’ for some people, including Chianna.

“Well, there’s no reason that Rebecca and I should just sit here like company, so how about if we take care of setting the table and whatever else needs done as we get ready to eat.” Leigh-Anne remained cheerfully oblivious of anyone else’s agendas.

“Yeah, I’m not much of one for being waited on, myself,” Rebel added.

(“I’ll tell you what…I have absolutely no problem with being waited on…and in fact, considering that I’m not well-equipped to assist anyone with meal preparation, I’ll just wait in the dining room so I don’t get underfoot.”)

Mordecai seemed to always be in the cat-bird’s seat.

All discussions about anything other than idle conversation was tabled until after the meal.

Once finished, over coffee and a few smokes, they began to brainstorm how to accomplish their goals.

First, Jed and Leigh-Anne were going to do some foraging for supplies directly related to seeing to it that Elliott would be able to brew and distill on a continual basis.

They had a ten-wheeler secreted less than half a day’s ride away on their ‘bikes,’ so that when they returned, they could drop off the truck, fully loaded, thereby giving them another vehicle at the Colony to shuttle either supplies, or finished product as needed.

Sugar had never presented any insurmountable obstacles, because in Florida, especially on the edge of the Everglades, sugarcane grows everywhere, and it’s not that difficult to produce and doesn’t need all that much refinement to be usable for distilling, but having a plentiful supply without foraging would keep Elliott focused on just one thing, without distractions.

By re-pitching previous batches of yeast, and keeping a ‘culture’ going for each next batch, Elliott had developed a ‘house-crop’ that was quite successful, but Agave requires very specialized yeasts that are resistant to a very long list of opportunistic bacterial contaminants that could literally kill your best batch almost overnight, but saccharomyces cerevisiae was the hands-down favorite in North America, and Jed already had a line on a very large source, as well as many gallons of raw agave syrup, some in fifty-gallon drums.

In Mexico, it was originally not even necessary to add any yeasts because they are present naturally on the surface of the plants, or even in the air in their native climate, but even the commercial distillers had been using yeast cultures for several decades since the standardization of Tequila long ago.

Now Elliott would not only have plenty of yeast, but he would have enough of it to keep a  culture brewing for each next new run before it was even started.

Although they had started transplanting and cultivating as many agave plants as they could find, there are some fifty different varieties of Maguey that can be used to produce some type of Mezcal, or Raicilla, only Mexican Weber Blue Agave can be used to make true Tequila, but then again, it had to be made in only one state in Mexico, and that is a very, very long way from the Everglades.

Jed had already started making arrangements to secure tons of Blue Agave, both cut and ready to ferment, or plants in various stages of growth and development before arriving at the Colony, and with the free acreage all over their established territory, plenty of space to grow it.

Plans were being made for both long-haul and short-term goals and deadlines.

Jed had also planned on having his mentor secure enough copper sheeting to built a free-standing three hundred gallon alembic pot still. Although it would involve certain obligations on their part, it also meant that they had a steady market for most of what they could produce, although when Jed and the (now) Four Winds went on the road, they would also have plenty to market while on their travels.

It also meant that the father and son that did the metalwork and brazing for the new still would receive compensation to be determined by mutual agreement of all concerned parties, whether it be ‘profit sharing’ or single disbursement or barter.

This added value to the new liaison that was being proposed to the residents of the Fourteenth Colony.

Chianna was more than a little conflicted with this decision however, because she had envisioned herself traveling with Jed and the rest of the group right away, but the charter that the other members of the Fourteenth Colony had set up two years ago required that all new residents would have to be approved by vote to become permanent residents, and preparations for their new housing would also need their attention.

And although she suspected that she would have no problem getting Jed to invite her along ‘for the ride,’ that would involve leaving Aimée and Rebel alone to their own devices, and as much access to Elliott as they wanted.

It’s ironic how people in the midst of their own peccadillos, still feel pangs of jealousy over those that they would possess and control, if left to their own selfish whims.

Chianna liked Rebecca quite well enough, but she couldn’t escape the fact that when Aimée was around Elliott, she feared that Amy’s desire for her husband would threaten her relationship with a man whom she loved, but did not desire…at least until she thought that someone else wanted him.

Although Aimée had done everything to make it perfectly clear to everyone that it was not her intention to become involved with Elliott, Chianna found herself doubting what might happen without anyone to prevent it.

Had she not been so enthralled with her infatuation over Jed, she would not have been so quick to let the three of them re-unite without her supervision, but it just seemed like a natural sexual revisitation, which was something that had been encouraged by both parties since before they were even officially a couple.

Besides, Chianna would be necessary to present Aimée and Rebel to the other members of the Colony. The men could agree all that they wanted about the rational reasons why such an affiliation would be great for the other members of the Colony from a completely rational standpoint as a matter of business and commerce, but if their wives and significant others did not hold the same point of view, it would be hopeless.

Oddly enough, Leigh-Anne had managed to not only appear to be oblivious to the controversies and machinations of all that romance, but as a result, no one had any suspicions about her intentions.

Not even Chianna.

It had always been that way for her. Not that she wasn’t attractive or sexy enough to have any man that she wanted, but she always seemed aloof or above such goings on, and that had always worked to her advantage in the past.

Leigh-Anne was the eternal enigma of the group, but when she laid her cards upon the table, there was never any doubt.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 11th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE. 

.

Chapter 56

The master bedroom was the logical place to rest and re-group, and true to form, they were all able to just be, to meditate, to commune…and sleep…and dream the dreams of Gods and Goddesses.

Chianna and Elliott’s sadness was diffused. It was absorbed and assimilated. It was shared and purified by a timeless love, older than all of them combined, that had brought them together once again.

As they relaxed, and drifted in and out, empathy and compassion flowed between them, because after all, each of them had been in everyone else’s temporary circumstances before, either with each other, or elsewhere, bringing their own perspective to this moveable feast of humanity.

The tension between Elliott and Chianna was understandable, and considering their circumstances, as inevitable as they were unenviable.

…And they all had been there before. Elliott and Chianna could feel their empathy like a palpable, comforting caress.

Elliott knew in his heart of hearts that he could not begrudge Chianna’s feelings, but recognized that perhaps he envied her infatuation…the euphoria of The Crush.

Except that her infatuation was now over his best friend.

Years before, from the time that they met, it was as if they were destined to be together, even though others would come and go for over a year…fate was drawing them together, so when Elliott’s fifth wife left him, Chianna was there to soften his fall.

She had wanted him from the start, and was patient enough to wait for what she believed was inevitable, and she was right.

It had been the same intoxication he had felt so many years ago, when he and Aimée had fallen in love. It was then that he felt his insecurity rise to the surface long enough to recognize it; long enough to banish it, knowing that lovingkindness and acceptance would provide the strength and wisdom to embrace their future.

As Elliott awoke, he opened his eyes to see Aimée staring into his.

(“You look like you’re feeling better. Do you feel like you’re sorting it out?”)

It was apparent that the more subtle, yet most profound long-term effects of The Knowledge were natural between Elliott and Aimée, and she was taking the lead in helping him discover it within himself.

A relaxing grogginess wafted over the rest of the group.

(“Yeah. I’m not sure that I would have  found the acceptance or openness to embrace it all if you hadn’t been a part of this.”)

Elliott remembered the profound and overwhelming effect she had had on him, because even after two unsuccessful marriages, in the midst of his despair, he felt like he had never really been in love before. It had set the gold standard by which he would measure everything after…frequently to his dismay and disappointment.

(“I was thinking about that myself. I feel your pain. I knew it all too well. I want to help you through this. Maybe close the circle. but there’s just one problem…”)

Aimée’s expression was a mixture of joy and sorrow.

(“It’s you…I rescued you from Jeannie. I thought that you would help me get over my husband, but realized that I didn’t need you to do that for me, partly because you forced me to do it myself…you pushed me away.”)

That had been a decision that he had regretted ever since.

(“Somehow, I feared that if I didn’t keep pushing the envelope, that you’d get bored with me…and I became drunk on the power that you showed me…that you created in the cult of my personality. I was stupid, selfish, and flawed by insecurity. I’ve only really come to face it head-on since you came back…no matter how hard I tried to forget you, I only learned to settle for less.”)

(“Do you realize that Chianna rescued you?”)

(“I remember. It was like she came out of nowhere.”)

(“But then you found fault with her. Do you remember?”)

(“How could you know that?”)

(“Do you even have to ask that?”)

(“I see your point.”)

(“As much as I wish that you did see my point, I don’t think so, because what I’m trying to tell you is that I don’t want to be the woman that rescues you from Chianna. . Never again. You need to do whatever you do on your own. Make a decision for yourself.”)

(“I guess my neediness isn’t very attractive in either case”)

(“Before I came here, I was curious…I’m still hopeful…I can offer you comfort and support…and love, of course, but you have created every heartbreak that you’ve ever known, and I believe that your hardship may yet help you gain understanding and that growth will develop your character. Then you will know yourself well enough for both of us to trust you.”)

(“You mean you and Chianna?”)

(“Perhaps, but I meant you and me.”)

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 11th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A Modest Proposal, Part 2

Chapter Fourteen,  part two

The kitchen, pantry, and dining facility was both unique and ingenious. Initially, it was simply the trailer in which Elliott and Chianna had lived. Before that, Elliott had brought it to the Colony as a hunting lodge.

Now most of it was a very spacious dining room, and the bedrooms were used as a pantry and contained the refrigerators and freezers.

The stoves were in a separate room built of concrete block that adjoined the trailer. Much like homes built in the nineteenth century, the kitchen was built to insulate the heat of the kitchen from the dining room, as well as to protect the rest of the house, should a fire occur.

The back wall was adjacent to the trailer. One side was solid, with the exception of a window. The other three sides were enclosed by garage doors which could be open for ventilation or closed according to the weather. The long side had two very wide double doors that would each have been used in a two-car garage, and each end had one double door. The roof was pitched and covered with corrugated steel.

Inside, a commercial Vulcan stove with eight burners, a griddle, and two ovens had been converted to use locally-produced methane gas instead of propane or natural gas. Next to it was an old-fashioned iron wood-burning stove, which was the original method of cooking used before electricity had been made available to the colony. Finally, a brick and mortar barbecue  complete with a chimney had been built so that it was sheltered from the sun or rain and could also function as a smoker.

The back wall was lined with stainless steel and the floor was poured cement which was slightly sloped towards a drain in the center which ran via a French Drain into a pea rock drain field that also carried water from the gutters away from the house.

A long counter ran along the open side and the pots and pans hung above it. Below the counter, the cabinets were open with no doors. Commercial kitchens also do not use cabinet doors because they obscure the view of what is inside and take up too much room when open. They are also a hazard. Anyone who has ever bent over and stood up into one, walked into one while carrying something or worked in a restaurant can appreciate why.

Sliding glass doors allowed for more than adequate ventilation of the dining room, and ceiling fans hung above the kitchen and dining room, run by solar power and/or batteries.

Whenever possible, every effort was made to minimize the use of alternating current without subjecting anyone to discomfort or hardship.

The dining room table was long enough to accommodate ten people, four on each side, and one on each end. Elliott had made it soon after they moved to the Colony. It was made from local cypress, very sturdy, and beautifully finished.

He was such a good cook that other members frequently would supply venison, wild hog, alligator, fish, or even beef that they had raised or brought in to have Elliott butcher and prepare it for them with the understanding that he also got a share of what they provided for himself. They also frequently ate in Elliott’s home, which they referred to as “Chez Monroe”.

He and Chianna liked the company and enjoyed entertaining. Most of the citizens of the Fourteenth Colony were gracious and sociable in a way not frequently encountered in most conventional neighborhoods, but which is common in campgrounds and trailer parks.

Paradoxically, as much as they valued their privacy and isolation, they also were outgoing and generous. Their community was essentially all they had; united by self-determinism, and rugged individualism; their interdependence encouraged a unique symbiosis of talents and skills.

Bereft of mass media, passive entertainment and social media, these residents not only became much more personally involved in the essential activities of daily living, but they also generally went to bed and got up earlier, which tended to encourage creativity, arts, crafts and hobbies.

It seemed clear that they wanted for little and enjoyed a far superior quality of life through mutualism than had ever been realized via capitalist consumerism, conspicuous consumption, communism, socialism, or utopian societies that had preceded them.

The longer that they resided there, the less Spartan or primitive their lives became once they were no longer hypnotized by money or the illusion of wealth.

It was not even immediately apparent that this building had once been a trailer. Substantial wooden siding now covered the aluminum skin. A durable hip roof coved the original, and the interior was similarly enhanced with hardwood paneling and floors.

Jed, Aimée, Rebecca, and Leigh-Anne were visibly impressed by what they saw as they sat down to a table more sumptuous than any of them had seen since the last Thanksgiving before Armageddon.

They ate, drank and smoked the locally produced Cannabis as they caught up on old news and brought Chianna up to speed as to how this strange band of gypsies were now recruiting them to share in the adventure they aspired to experience.

Chianna was the first to finally address the giant elephant in the room.

“As much as I am glad to meet you all and want you to know you are always welcome here, I think we all know there is an agenda that has prompted your arrival; so what’s on your collective minds and how do Elliott and I fit into your plan?”

Jed was the first to speak.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 13th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

Once in a Blue Agave Moon Chapter three: Diversity

Diversity is a critical component in the evolution of anything.
So is adversity.
Without adversity from within or without the species or subset, there would be no provocation for evolutionary processes to be instigated.
External threats or hardships winnow and cull the weak from the herd.
The strong survive and thrive. The weak become one with the food chain.
Natural selection promotes incrimental improvements in the species in order to better adapt to its microcosm.
The strength of adversity is much like an alloy of a metal for improved tensile strength, shear strength, hardness, density or weight.
In a society, common purspose and mutual support provides flexibility, adaptive abilty, and resilience to external threats when there is cooperation amongst those diverse members.
On the other hand, from a purely Machiavenian standpoint, when one group opresses another group, there is potential for strengthening the opressed group, although it produces a degree of factionalism and tension or stressors to the group as a whole.
There is nothing inherently Humanitarian about evolution.
As the civilization of a society develops, It is more capable of sustaining and caring for the mentally and physically infirm.
As long as a society is wealthy enough and affluent enough it can easily support and nurture and portion of its population that is not capable of caring for themselves for any variety of reasons.
As long as someone is willing to pay someone else to care for these unfortunates, others who provide the care will make a living out of it, and the prosperity of the entire group is enhanced.
It takes a very enlightened, tolerant affluent and altruistic society to develop a culture that is inclined to care for all of its citizens humanely.
It would be easy to make the incorrect assumption that the members at the colony were a homogeneous group.
The stereotypical generalization of the ultra right-wing, violent, Christian, alcoholic, heavily-armed, home-schooled, racist Florida redneck comes to mind when most people think about hunting in the Everglades. Fifty years ago, that notion might have had a little more validity, but Florida is more of a melting pot than most other areas of the United States, (unless of course, you are a Seminole or Miccosukee Indian).
Most of Florida is a mixture of a space-age frontier town, Disney World, a smuggler’s paradise and tourist trap where every imaginable ethnicity and social strata rub elbows on a daily basis.
In less than an hour you can drive from the center of almost any city to west bum-fuck Egypt or Timbukthree. Similarly, in the same amount of time you can go from Miami Beach (aka little Tel Aviv) to Little Havana, or Little Haiti, although the distinct boundaries of one ethnicity or another is rapidly blurring.
Similarly, Kosher, Hispanic, Asian, Continental, or Caribbean cuisines are everywhere you look from South Florida to the Keys, Orlando, Tampa, Daytona or Jacksonville.
This has a tendency to produce a more eclectic atmosphere than one might suspect in Florida, and it is reflected in the residents’ tastes and comfort zones.
Religion (or the lack of it) remains the singularly most divisive influence no matter where you go, and of course, most sexual mores and customs are dictated by religion.
Elliott’s older son was introduced to what became known as The Colony several years before by one of his high-school classmates. His father was a welder from upstate New York who had lived in Florida for more than twenty years. His son had a blue mohawk and listened to Heavy Metal.
Although the expression “safety in numbers” has a distinct ring of validity to it, because no one lifestyle or religion was of any preponderance within the group, most of the residents minded their own business as long as no one was forced to confront any specific behaviors, beliefs,or customs and as long as they did not impinge on the privacy or comfort of any of the others.
The cowardice of numbers lies at the heart of bullying; there was no real preponderance of any lifestyle or belief system at the colony. Because of this, there developed an enforced tolerance of all opinions and beliefs that was not seen in previous societies.
Drug store cowboys and self-proclaimed rednecks are no more prone to prejudice or narrow-mindedness than Northeastern members of the “Intelligencia” or passive-aggresive Southern Californians.
Group-think mentalities need to have their prejudices reinforced by other fearful sheep of the same mind-set before they can be too much of a pain in the ass to anyone else.
The term “rugged individualist” best described most of the members of the Colony. There was plenty of insular space for all of them, and as long as everybody minded their own business, they neither took nor gave any grief to anyone else.
Peaceful co-existence had been the prevailing mood within the group long before they had decided to eschew urban un-civilization.
Their most common interest was in each other’s safety and well-being. The collapse of western civilization had leveled the field for everyone.
It was no longer a zero-sum game.

 

 

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return, pt. II

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return, pt. II

My Muses

One of the things we do with words is to inspire. Writers do not live in a vacuum, but no matter what we do within our own lives, nothing beats a different perspective from outside of ourselves to introduce new ideas, questions and influences.

Those people are my muses, my wells of inspiration from which I drink, be it the refreshingly cold, clear water of underground springs fed by mountain streams from far away or warm, mysterious draughts from jungle pools or even hot, flavored waters, exuding enticing perfumes of unknown origins.

Some provide an occasional cautious sip, while others compel me to slake my thirst until it is sated. Some help me clear my mind while others intoxicate me in inexplicable ways like a vampire on a blood-feast, but I have been blessed to be influenced by several for whom I am most grateful.

This post was initially inspired by a discussion of pet words for the genitalia of either sex as well as the associated body parts or functions one might be inclined to use in erotic writings, to which we would aspire to attain the level of Literotica.

Jayne of DiaryIncarnate at WordPress prompted a renewal of the discussion when she recently made reference to what she referred to as a “Dickipedia”. I am a regular visitor to her website and I am quite fond of her poetry, but both her prose and verse frequently give me “paws” to think and reflect upon her eternally questioning mind.

Although we have never met in person, she has a real talent for bringing out both the rogue and the gentleman in me, and I sense that I am not alone in that assessment of her effect on men.

About a year ago, Anastasia, the charming and provocative astraltravler of WordPress and I collaborated on a piece called His Penis, Her Vagina, to address the plethora of synonyms for the two major taxons regarding the plumbing of the sexes, but we quickly realized that many terms, like Meat-Whistle, One-eyed Trouser Snake, Cooter, or Poontang (sometimes hyphenated), are at best considerably more hilarious than erotic, and at worst just plain disgusting. Some were both.

Later collaborations between Anastasia, with my wife (Yen4)Suki and myself have proven much more worthwhile and productive, although we have been a bit pensive about writing about the results…and I don’t know why, because none of us are what one would call shy.

Suki and I had collaborated on a piece that was essentially her story over six months ago, that to date remains unpublished. All I did was help her organize and word the story, as she related her experiences to me, but it is a great piece in more ways than one, especially because it needed so little embellishment or enhancement.

As erotic adventures go, I would wish that all women could experience such a milestone adventure on a milestone birthday.

Her thirtieth was almost as good, but I was there to witness, encourage and participate with her on that occasion.

That’s just the way we roll. I hope she shares it soon.

I must be the luckiest man in the world to be so inspired by these three muses.

One is mine, but she is too precious and free-spirited to hoard or keep to myself. Another is shared and comes and goes like a tropical breeze, the muse of my muse. Only the third is a woman of mystery whom I cannot distinguish from Oasis or Mirage; who comes to me on tiptoes as silent as an assassin to whisper enticing provocations into my ear like a long-lost lover from another lifetime.

Although the initial impetus of this post centered around erotica, it quickly developed a life of its own and ran off the rails onto the much larger tracks leading to the subject of creative expression and inspiration in general.

For that reason, I have decided to publish it in installments.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/20/2014

 

Tell Me Something about Yourself…

Tell Me Something about Yourself…

I want to compile a survey of what words each of us consider our term of choice for our own (semi)private parts.

Some time back, I collaborated on a post called “His Penis, Her Vagina” to explore how difficult it is to write “Literotica” without excessive repetition.

Part two of the survey would be to compile a list of your favorite word(s) to describe the naughty parts of the opposite sex.

If more than two people respond, I will post the results.

If you wish to be identified as to your choices, I will post that also.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

 

My Muses

My Muses

Our souls breathe the same air

somewhere

outside of time and space

resonating

as we breathe out

we inspire each other

as we breathe in

provocative exhalations

evoking visions and dreams,

wonderment and admirations

that just seem to fit so well.

As each pronouncement

of the ideal

of the other

mirrors our own aspirations.

If you can imagine it

you can make it happen.

To hear you describe it

is to desire to be that man

who inspires you

to be that woman.

To read your thoughts

is to feel

your soul

breathing your words into my ear.

Each of you

nurture, heal and inspire

the very best of me,

inspiring me

to do the same for you.

Indulgences

of spirit and flesh

are exchanged

as fluently

as

passing from one hand to the other.

Breathless humours and vapors

of our common consciousness

in mutual resusitation.

 

THFWS & TTM: The Twins

The Twins

When Darcy’s water broke, everyone but Darcy, Mark, Anastasia, and the midwife got out of the pool, preferring to lend their support and encouragement from the sidelines.

Episiotomies are the most frequently performed unnecessary operation in the United States (depending upon your opinion on circumcision), followed closely by cesarean section because doctors are simply not willing to take the time necessary to properly prepare a woman to birth children in the way that they have done since the beginning of time.

And because time is money, greed is the prime motivator in those decisions followed closely by laziness, a lack of imagination and an unwillingness to embrace a multi-disciplined, holistic mode of therapy.

It is never easy to deliver twins, and they are considered a “high-risk” case at best, but if there are no other complications, midwives will better prepare a woman to deliver just by virtue of the way in which they facilitate the effacement and dilation of the labia, and vulva, thereby rendering a tear-free delivery…in most cases, which was why the Neonatologist was also present…for all the other complications that could possibly arrive.

Cutting to pre-empt tearing is like amputating a limb to prevent a future break that may never occur. The simple fact that the suturing done to stitch the episiotomy frequently results in painful postpartum sex, sometimes for years seems to escape most doctors, who never feel a thing.

Anastasia had met Kat(rima) while they were studying together in nursing school. They became fast friends during some very fast times, but eventually Kat dropped out to study acupuncture and become a midwife. She had also delivered both of Anastasia’s children under water.

Darcy had watched her youngest sister being born at home on the kitchen table because her mother could not afford health care insurance. She had come from a family of commercial fishermen in tidewater Virginia and most of her early life had been spent learning how to “make do” on next to nothing just to survive.

To suddenly be the primary focus for any needs she or her children could ever want for with money no object was to feel gratefully empowered in ways she had never before known.

It takes a very special kind of woman to pull and stretch the surrounding flesh of the vagina sufficiently to accommodate the delivery of a child. If you have ever been privileged to witness a birth with the assistance of a midwife and compare it to any hospital delivery you’ve ever seen you quickly realize  how nurturing and baby-friendly the former is compared to the industrial atmosphere of a hospital delivery.

Many women may tend to feel uncomfortable touching another woman in such an intimate manner as is done by the midwife, but compared to almost all males, they are generally more nurturant and intimate with each other, perhaps by nature, or perhaps because our culture does not embrace homophobia as tenaciously among females as by the generally fearful, self-conscious, strutting, posturing roosters that the males of our species are so often want to make of themselves, especially in their early youth.

Regardless, some women are also programmed for nurturance from a very early age and Kat was one of them. She loved women as much as she did men and she fearlessly and self-consciously embraced an inborn commitment to caring for anyone who deserved her attentions.

And in all fairness, if an OB/GYN doctor were to perform the same procedures in a hospital setting, they would probably be up on charges before they left the parking lot.

Discretion is the lesbian consigliere of Valor.

Meanwhile, most of the Ancient Ones had arrived. The spirits of Lukumi, Los Guerreros, Roti, The Dark Mother (Kali’s almost accidental namesake), Ganesh, and seemingly countless others either sat perched upon the peak of the roof, on the branches of the surrounding trees, or were joining Darcy, Mark, Anastasia and Kat, the midwife in the water, which is one of the most amazing and provocative ways to experience their presence.

Water that contains the usual minerals and electrolytes found in either municipal systems or well water is an excellent conductor of electro-magnetic energy, especially if it contains amniotic fluids, and a number of  the Ancient Ones liked to playfully caress, poke and prod those who can allow themselves to be open to the sensations they impart as they flash back and forth across the pool like dolphins preparing to tail-walk over the water.

As the contractions came closer and closer together and her dilation increased, the cauldrons began to boil and steam and it was at just about that same time when Boop-Oopa-Doop (aka “Betty”) flew in and landed in a Key Lime tree next to the fires beneath the cauldrons.

“What’s up, Toots?” she asked of no one in particular.

Almost in unison, they waved and replied “Boop-Oopa-Doop!” She was widely known throughout the multi-verse, and generally well-liked by all.

As a fellow embezzler of time and space, She was quite adept in arriving precisely when what appeared to be a portent of something spectacular was just about to happen.

The visions that appeared in the cauldrons were similar to those that had foretold of Darcy’s ordained place within the primary group.

It was the image of Darcy surrounded by thousands of primates doing the Bandaloop Dance at sunset. This time, there was a melody that could be heard by everyone, yet recognized by no one, except the primates outside the Sanctuary, and perhaps Darcy, who also began to hum along with it.

The ArchAngels, who were watching and listening to the images and sounds projected and amplified from the cameras quickly incorporated it into their song cycle while the saxophones began to answer and the rest of the band reinforced the melody with harmonizations and counterpoint of their own.

In the area beneath the screens, the Primates had assembled to perform the Bandaloop Dance in unison with the video feed from the cauldrons. They never seemed to need any coaching; it was as if it was something native to their instincts.

As the singing and dancing reached a crescendo, Darcy delivered the first of the twins, a vigorously healthy screaming female, followed in due time by an equally beautiful and perfect male.

There was no video coverage of the delivery, but everyone who witnessed it poolside fell into silence as they each recognized the uniqueness of the twins.

“Unique” is one of the most frequently misused words of the last fifty years, but in this case it was no hyperbole, because in the entire history of the earth, there have never been two children born who possessed the appearance of these two children.

The female was thankfully much less hirsute than the male and absolutely gorgeous to behold, but there was a decidedly simian appearance to her which was not so much apparent until one saw the two of them together, because the male was undoubtedly the offspring of Frederick, who was himself the only one of his kind.

Aside from a slightly exaggerated supra-orbital ridge, somewhat longer than average arm length compared to their overall length and a little more space between the bottom of the nose and the top of the upper lip they looked very much like any other human infant, except for the feet, which were structurally identical to those of the Chimpanzee. This meant that both of the twins had four opposable thumbs each.

This would prove to be the beta upgrade to human feet for these children, who quickly learned to use them like a second pair of hands whenever their shoes were off, which never happened in public, lest  it give away the identity of their father.

But perhaps most importantly, their spines and pelvis, as well as the alignment of their hips were consistent with bi-pedal ambulation. Also, their foramen magnums were located more anteriorly at the bases of the skulls, consistent with a vertical stance directly above the spine.

Given the genetic diversity of the human animal, their appearance was surprisingly human.

The eventual legal decision as to whether or not they be considered Hominid would be prolonged as much as possible for their protection, but eventually, after they are given the opportunity to establish the authenticity of their genetic structure, as young adults it would become their time to be recognized as who they really were.

Since they were not born in a hospital, although their footprints were recorded and notarized by their attorneys, no publicly accessible documents would be filed unless absolutely necessary.

Because the dearth of research, evidence and testimony of Frederick was so well documented, he alone would best serve as the face, the voice, the words and the ideas of a truly self-aware, sentient being demanding his rights to recognition of his ascension to a higher level than was previously judged as at least adequate by the gatekeepers of the most exclusive country club in the animal kingdom called Humanity.

Once his case was won in court, the twins would have their day of recognition and autonomy without outside interference.

It was uncanny however in the way in which their facial expressions were the visage of Frederick’s. Not something one could quite put their finger on to tell of the identify of the father unless you knew Frederick well enough to recognize the similarities.

Although their skin was quite pale, their hair was jet black, but finer than that of the other great apes. Their features looked beautifully exotic…perhaps slightly Asian, or even African or some allele of the North American aboriginals; refined, yet primal, with very large, dark brown eyes. They were strangely beautiful, and once you began to look at them, it was almost impossible to avert your eyes from their soulful faces.

To a casual observer they appeared to be beautiful normal humans in nearly all aspects, but given the transcendent understanding between the members of the group, it was immediately common knowledge as to the paternity of both of them, though no one spoke directly of it that night, because they already knew that everyone else knew.

The remarkable similarity of the genes and chromosomes between Chimpanzees, Gorillas, and Orangutans with human genetic DNA had enabled a union of Frederick’s sperm and two of Darcy’s eggs, despite a long-successful tubal ligation.

Vigorously demanding their evolutionary participation in the replication of their currently unique species, they out swam all the other combined seeds deposited into Darcy’s love canal that evening, just as two eggs had also almost inexplicably made a quantum leap past what was believed to be an impenetrable barrier.

There have been legends and rumors of unions with either male or female human participants and simians throughout the last fifty years or more, but no surviving evidence and great hatred, disgust and violent hostility are often expressed at even the mention of such offspring.

A doctor in Malaysia for instance who allegedly intended to artificially inseminate two female orangutans with human sperm more than forty years ago was murdered, and his laboratory and domestic facilities burned to the ground along with the two female orangutans.

A mere rumor possibly fabricated by poachers that Diane Fossi was copulating with the gorillas whom she was studying likewise may have prompted her murder.

The subject of interspecies erotica is likely to invoke images of Tijuana donkey-shows, women from Amsterdam copulating with huge canines or sheepherders and hillbillies in general. Once the sniggering and fascination over the perceived degradation of the human subjects stops (shortly after the titillation factor wears off), the tendency is to get hautily self-righteous and violent.

As disgusted and revolted as so many claim to be, few can or will avert their eyes once they should witness it.

The book of Leviticus states that if a man shall lay with an animal, that they both shall be killed. It seems unfathomable that the ancient Hebrews believed that somehow the animal was complicit in the commission of the act, but then again, the book of Leviticus is harsh, which may explain why it is such a favorite of Pentecostals and other similarly bloodthirsty and judgmental fundamentalist Christians.

If you stop and think about it, the only true fundamentalist Christians would be the Messianic Jews who were the descendants of either the authors or scribes of the early new testament and the Dead Sea scrolls.

Ironically, it should be noted that some of the most dangerous fundamentalists would be the modern-day ultra right-wing sex-and-pleasure-hating American fundamentalist Christians, who generally want no part whatsoever of Judaism (including the Old Testament) unless it justify self-serving, vindictive, self-righteous wrath, punishment and judgmental retribution. (Muslim Jihadists notwithstanding…keeping in mind that it was the authors of the Crusades who have also sown those seeds.)

The twins were the first scientifically verifiable prototype of this union, and no one intended to make the results known to the general public for the sake of the safety of all parties concerned.

As you may recall, during The Great Eurasian Leap Forward, after Man first diverged from his primal ancestors, the offspring showed a remarkable increase in each successive generation in intellectual capacity due to the doubling of the SRGAP2  gene despite an eventually lowered total brain mass compared to the earlier, larger Neanderthal . Similarly, these children would later prove to be far more advanced than any primate…even Frederick, had ever been.

In the light of the previous events of the day, everyone in attendance was openly grateful for the revelation of the paternity of the children.

No one had suspected, least of all Darcy that it was even within the range of possibility that she was capable of conception in the first place, let alone by way of the world’s one and only Bonanzee.

Everyone in attendance openly displayed tears of joy as Anastasia and Mark helped hold the twins to Darcy’s breasts. She was absolutely radiant, looking for all the world like the proudest mother of all time…the way every mother should.

It was about this time that the visions from  the cauldrons began to change. A face began to appear that looked as if it was painted in smoke. Although initially vague and indistinct, it eventually took on the appearance of Frederick’s face.

Although the synchronization between the lips and the voice that everyone heard was delayed, nonetheless everyone who witnessed it clearly perceived the sound of Frederick’s voice in their heads as clearly as if he was personally whispering the words directly into their ears.

It was later confirmed that whether or not they had taken The Knowledge everyone who heard them verified the words that Frederick imparted to them.

First he repeated his last words spoken to the world at the time of his death. The recordings that were made of the camera feeds showed the video, but no audio was recorded. Fortunately, for posterity he also signed his message as he had before.

To it, he added a final remark. “For those who wished me harm, you have not seen the last of me. I was not born to be so easily dispatched. For those of you who knew and loved me, you too have not seen the last of me, because there is so much more to unfold as our work progresses.”

“Just as Man received a hand-up fifty-thousand years ago, it is now time for Man to lend his hand to his simian cousins to allow the natural evolutionary process to begin again. Who amongst you would deny us that opportunity?”

“Since the time when Man first traded Instinct and Intuition for Reason, he has suffered for it on so many levels that the members of our inner circle have now only really begun to realize.”

“The ancestors of Man can provide him your connection to our mutual primal past, including telepathy…if you can just learn to stop talking and relying on words to express yourselves. You have as much to gain as we do in the symbiosis of our union.”

“Our children will become the beta-version of Mankind. It is time to embrace our next evolutionary quantum leap.”

“Keep me in your hearts so that my spirit may abide there with you all as you raise our children together.”

This was clearly an event that had shocked and surprised a group who had become accustomed to the bizarre and unbelievable in a world where the impossible had become commonplace.

Most religiously oriented persons of any faith would have considered the entire event an abomination, or the work of the Devil, were they to learn of it, but in the hearts and minds of the inner circle of The Home for Wayward Souls, it was a well-received serendipity.

And so it was, that this group who did not believe in a disapproving, punitive, vindictive and jealous God the Creator (either Aravat or Eloah, Elah or Eolith in Hebrew) nonetheless learned to embrace a union with what has been referred to as the Guf, or Treasury of Souls without conflict or contradiction, and who believed in the persistence of the Soul

And it was good…very, VERY GOOD…like, well…(you know the rest)…..

Namaste