Reading for January 17, 2010
Resonance, spatial neural networking velocities, mitochondrial energy plates, ringed electromagnetic fusion, extrasystemic photonics..................................
Now and then, a minute part of that great Cosmic jello-in-the-making sets just long enough to become my working brain. Analytic geometry, calculus, string theory, zoning, differential equations, non-linear geometry, all suddenly become things I clearly realize I will never understand.
As Poet or fool, go?
With a soul in tow..........
By chaos or of rule........
what will be my tool?
Third grade began for me in 1954. I figured I had the home front secured with my “chosen” child status; theology properly adjusted to reality by extrapolating catechism; and, an after-life plan in place. The one area of life that started to be [life long] challenging..... was.............. girls.
The 1953 movie “How to marry a Millionaire” with Marilyn Monroe, Betty Grable, and Lauren Bacall added its weight to society's fashion dictates and my childhood psycho-erogenous development. Females with high heels and nylons over shaved legs in combination with the most potent mind-altering substance ever to bloom from human inventiveness - the dress - permanently shaped the foundation of my libido. When I was five, going on six years of age, the number of opportunities to sojourn over to my same age neighbor's house to look under her mother's dress by fetching errant marbles, began to lessen as the demands of Kindergarten took its toll on my time
At age six in first grade, and age seven in second grade, however, I was able to to range the halls and discovered {at the first staircase} the eighth grade girls' legs as they proceeded me. The experience of these innocent childhood curiosities were nothing, I would learn, compared to teenage revelations - and then, the puzzle of puzzles: women throughout my adult life. While cosmologies, to this day, struggle to understand the creation of the universe – the prevailing styles of women's clothes in the tender years of my youth, for all practical purposes, began the map that I would use as an adult to locate the origin of the cosmos between the top of a woman's shoe and the bottom of her dress.
Things were different with the upper body.
One day, being young enough to be dressed by my mother as I sat on our kitchen table (age 3 or so) the topic of breasts came up. My mother was adeptly answering questions I had about the differences between hers and mine. When mom's healthy parent sanctioned remark scientifically described the function of the female breast in terms of providing milk for a baby, I whimsically asked if one breast might be for chocolate milk and the other for regular. The air, then, thickened with increased seriousness, her tone resonating gravity, she solemn decreed: “........we don't joke about things like that”.
So I never joke about breasts................ rarely, anyway - and that would prove to be one of the most important of my life tools – somewhat later in life.
No to sexism that functions to bind; Yes to romance oui' unbounded functions.........
Join Captain Flip Side in his true life adventures every Sunday!
Happy daze,
The Captain
No comments:
Post a Comment