Killed my first squirrel earlier (grey of course). I hadn't gone out with the intention of hunting anything because my larder is filled at the momoent, but when I happened upon the animal sitting in a pool of sunshine, seemingly not a care in its head, some unexplained urge came over me to make today the day I try squirrel meat. It looked so healthy, so edible in the sun like a wild fruit shining.
It didn't see my rifle rise or hear the pellets in my bag. I was as death gracing the terminal ward, fuelled by the will of arrows. It could not have felt its end as it fell in an instant. If humane dispatch is in any way possible, then I granted it to this juicy looking little fellow.
All animals are fair game for food to me. (I could never hunt for sport.) Even domestic pets like dogs I would have no problem eating. Afterall meat is meat is meat, and nobody happy eating at those foul KFC places should ever condemn other cultures for including dog meat in their diet. (And remember those cultures are far more sincere than the awful brand obssessed Western 'cultures'.) Nor could they ever make a moral argument against it. Pigs are also sacred to some, our moral argument against eating dog is as weak as wet paper.
Monday, 30 July 2012
Friday, 17 February 2012
Tongue Wags the Intro
Feb 14th 2000
And so I begin on the lovers day, Valentines. How charming! It might hurt a bit, may defile the fluttering hearts and make the flowers wilt like heroin ravaged demons but trust me my little page turners, I think it will be worth it. You see by bastadising love, I just might free some souls from their imposed shackles created by modesty and silly shyness. The fustration which stems from these is truly unbearable as I know too well. Or used to know until I cut loose from society and took to the wilds. Oh I still dip in and out when I need but im not reliant on people or society.
I have my little piece of land, a handbuilt yurt, books, music, laptop and fire. And booze, can never forget the booze. I am happy. Extremely so.
You see, I need to exist ourside of the chapels and cities, away from lights and car horns where humanity sends each other mad every day. I don't fit well with others. The television, newspapers, music charts, weekly shopping, weekend disco and f**king, dramas and violence. So im here in my world to see what I can make from peace and my own imagination. I fish, hunt, grow vegetables, paint, read, watch nature grow around me and write. I use the laptop to spy on the world when the frost arrives and spirit is low, giving me a voyeuristic window without getting too close to scents and habits that would bring me out in almost palsy. But that is where the line is drawn. As far as the worlds concerned, I desire nothing more than a peep show.
There! That is as good an intro as any I feel. My first spit, dredged from scabbed lungs and fired from a carnivorous mouth.
Signed,
The White Peace. (Isn't that what the cool vagabonds say?)
And so I begin on the lovers day, Valentines. How charming! It might hurt a bit, may defile the fluttering hearts and make the flowers wilt like heroin ravaged demons but trust me my little page turners, I think it will be worth it. You see by bastadising love, I just might free some souls from their imposed shackles created by modesty and silly shyness. The fustration which stems from these is truly unbearable as I know too well. Or used to know until I cut loose from society and took to the wilds. Oh I still dip in and out when I need but im not reliant on people or society.
I have my little piece of land, a handbuilt yurt, books, music, laptop and fire. And booze, can never forget the booze. I am happy. Extremely so.
You see, I need to exist ourside of the chapels and cities, away from lights and car horns where humanity sends each other mad every day. I don't fit well with others. The television, newspapers, music charts, weekly shopping, weekend disco and f**king, dramas and violence. So im here in my world to see what I can make from peace and my own imagination. I fish, hunt, grow vegetables, paint, read, watch nature grow around me and write. I use the laptop to spy on the world when the frost arrives and spirit is low, giving me a voyeuristic window without getting too close to scents and habits that would bring me out in almost palsy. But that is where the line is drawn. As far as the worlds concerned, I desire nothing more than a peep show.
There! That is as good an intro as any I feel. My first spit, dredged from scabbed lungs and fired from a carnivorous mouth.
Signed,
The White Peace. (Isn't that what the cool vagabonds say?)
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