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MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(GENESIS)
Trading Pain For Food
The golden
decay of fall came and I had to go start my sixth year of
school. This year was pretty much uneventful. I didn’t make any
friends, but no one messed with me either. For the life of me I
cannot remember any of my school’s curriculum. I do remember
that our classes were held in trailers. The cafeteria on campus
was centrally located and separate from most of the buildings.
I
fondly remember that at lunch they gave you lots of food, and I
always managed to eat what my table-mates would not.
Unfortunately, there was no going back for seconds.
Since I was always so hungry on more
than a few occasions I tried to sneak back in line to sneak
extra food. Sometimes I simply went up to the women behind the
counter to ask if they had any food left over. As hungry as I
was I felt intensely embarrassed about asking for extra food. It
was easier on me emotionally to sneak back in line.
I felt
like Oliver Twist whenever I went shamefaced to one of the
women, “Please Mum, may I have more.” My favorite meal was fried
chicken. I use to love fried chicken so much… I suppose that my
starving body knew that the chicken skin had extra calories in
fat and protein. Not only was the skin my favorite part of the
chicken, so was the wings, and the legs
I had
fantasies that one-day farmers would be raising chickens with
six to eight wings and legs and extra large folds of skin
hanging like a Bloodhound or a Shar-pei dog. God willing,
some day perhaps, genetic engineering will mix the genes of a
Shar-pei with the genes of a chicken… then I will be in heaven.
One
day, an hour after lunch, our teacher for some reason stopped
class and said. “Why don’t you all take a break and go to the
bathroom if you need to go.” “If you don’t need to go, then just
enjoy the walk and the break.” “But, he said, I don’t want any
of you to stop off anywhere, for any reason.”
Well,
the bathrooms were located across campus on the other side of
the cafeteria building. As we passed by the cafeteria, the
ladies who worked there were throwing food away. (In my house we
were taught that wasting food was sinful). They saw us walking
by and they asked if any of us would like to have any of the
left over biscuits or dinner rolls. Next to my Aunt Trudie or
Nana’s biscuits, theirs were the best.
They
were still piping hot. I crammed as many as I could in to my
mouth and then jammed as many or them as I could into my
pockets, the inside of my shirt. Then I grabbed more, and once
again I stuffed as many as I could into my mouth to and from the
bathroom building.
When
we all settled back into the classroom, a kiss ass snitch told
the teacher which kids stopped for the goodies. The teacher
called those of us who stopped for the rolls to the front of the
room. He lined us all up. He took out his huge wooden paddle.
The
teacher looked at us with gleeful menace, “Well I warned you all
not to stop off for any reason.” “You guys didn’t listen so
you’ll get the paddle.” “I understand that you guys took some
rolls for later is that right?”
We
all shook our heads yes.
He
walked over to the first kid, swinging the paddle as if he
fancied himself to be Mickey Mantle, “Do you still want the
rolls now that you’re going to get paddled?”
The
first kid glumly, looked down, shaking his head no.
Each
kid took out the rolls and shook their head. “Nooo….”
Each
kid in succession dutifully handed over their spoils to this
pompous prick who in turn gave each of the compliant kids a
quick and powerful swat. A few of them wept horribly, a few just
suffered watering eyes.
I was the
last one up to bat.
The
teacher looked balefully at me, “Do you regret your decision to
stop for the rolls Mr. Chimera?”
Insincerely, I murmured, “Yes sir.”
“Now
that you are getting punished do you still feel like having the
rolls?”
I figured
since he was giving me a choice and since I was getting paddled
anyway, it would have been a waste of effort not to keep the
rolls. I told the teacher I preferred to keep the rolls. My
first priority in life back then was food.
Scowling, “If that’s your decision…. it’s your ass, he sneered.”
I
think he wounded up extra hard for me for not turning over the
rolls.
The teacher
swatted me so hard it drove me across the room. Some of the kids
laughed.
I admit it.
It hurt like hell; but I nearly laughed out loud, not because I
was tough or that I wanted to put on a show of bravado. No, it
was simply because the six large rolls I had jammed in my back
pockets, (Three in each), was such effective padding it really
diminished the punishment that I would have felt. Regardless, I
thought that I would easily trade this kind of punishment
everyday for those great rolls.
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(EXODUS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(REVELATIONS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(JUDGMENT DAY)
ADVENTURES IN MARINE BIOLOGY
THE MARINES: GOD'S CHOSEN
WARRIORS
VINCE'S GYM
CONVERSATIONS WITH NEO
NEO TEACHES ME THE ART OF WAR
& PEACE;
His Version of The Matrix
MEMORIES OF MY FATHERS
ZEN & THE ART OF RESISTANCE
TRAINING:
A Yogic & Scientific Approach To Weight
Lifting
ZEN & THE BIOLOGY OF
TRANSCENDENCE:
The First Matrix of Psychic
Phenomena
ZEN & THE ART OF KINESIOLOGY:
The Yogic & Scientific
Approach To Movement
ZEN & YOUR ENERGY SYSTEMS
ZEN & VARIOUS ASPECTS OF
TRAINING
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(GENESIS)
HOMEPAGE
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