The Post to End all Posts
There is a great, hidden story in my life.
Not a vainglorious epic, nay. Were I to danse in the idiom of another, your love for me would wane.
Many years ago, mine eyes did see the glory of a college dorm room. Fastened as a veritable Chateau, my room was, quite literally, the Turret.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXu6TXikdHdIpelHfSD-No_i2h3BUptLh4TOEzZcYzFbHY8QJNTnOeQWqSjQQpWureevAm8gMdO4-fuFrvPDrmqckaFkcnMRGxONRjRtFtJSNu2yWSBPt7mUugo-Y8iezkltiy/s320/MiddlePost.jpg)
Numerous hours were spent synchronizing Alice in Wonderland to Dark Side of the Moon. At the 3:14 mark, I believe - at least that's what the timer on my VCR said. And says.
Also, playing Twisted Metal 2.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicX8chQ4d97bFew0gdfJvBQaXnC9I2PinN5S_QaJlxzFVVEbWmFWUw4eFT_TDaQG6CwRULeGRzGqNzOnH9mLGfrOxYuL5tIILtYmmygbDOVDWMOP98iUEb83y7KuZ_mqzC4eYc/s320/Calypso_in_Twisted_Metal_2_Intro.jpg)
One night, we established a truth so wonderful, life-affirming, and prescient, one wonders how the great continuum of human thought hath not pontificated in it's general direction.
It's basically, unequivocally, The Chinese Baby Island Quorum.
Now, I know what you're thinking. No, not that. Listen - yes, That's It. That's the One. Move with it. Mull it over; let it meander through your own mental ranch dip, marinade. And then, nod slightly, feel the beginnings of a smile appear on your face. Let your face relax. Swallow the visceral composite of your own mental excellence.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-IMMTmUeaQZEjuX1RUkGID_B3omQ2HgcYG66wvti32p-rljqPZHtO4SFJ-mjBmBO2eFcSs65AyoZE73Yplok3LkUvyiiaM8DavWMl20Gb6FVGUyd-3ysa-CRhA3Ff23P9bsP/s320/Santo.jpg)
"Look at your old men dying..
Look at your women crying..
Like they've always done before."
I'm hyponotized.
So, the theory, nay, the Great Chinese Baby Island Question?
Well, it's actually more of a Great Chinese Baby Island Experiment. It was begat, in the Turret Room of the Chateau of an Unnamed College or University, in the late 1990s. Down the hall lived an Albanian woman, who, if Albania still had monarchy or royalty, would have been a Princess. She had a monster Rack, and a haughty, regal, yet totally good person being demeanor.
But the Theory! Ah, yes. The theory was begotten, AND Made. Now, the Chinese. I LOVE the Chinese. And, more importantly, They're Coming. That's the general undercurrent of most political discourse. They consume natural resources like locusts! Shady Oil Dealings! Damn it, I'm in. I will welcome them, though not as invaders. As neighbors in our complete global consumption.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpfePPA7-roKBM15R2T2aemmEIhgMSabXn8-0sWm0wKxrlyr4ARrNqk6EQjha5a2rzhqLqpdR2ZAbMwRGSsP0sHYWp7491HCnTZzZyGbsAN28e8biRaAA6zrQMI8eDiQs1ZRTl/s320/12twen_CA0ready.jpg)
Also, I'm welcoming them as fellow members of The West, for what is direction, if not Relative? In fact, they are no longer from the "Far East." Us and China, we now the West.
Much like others before them, however, China have done (and may, perhaps continue to do) some Weird Shit.
For example, the whole If-it's-a-girl, Drown-it-Thing, as well as the Binding-O'-The-Feet.
So all that I have to say stems from an analysis of the first option - Say a family gets rid of their firstborn because it's not a Son, or perhaps chuck the male child, since they needed a Daughter (to sell for a high dowry to the local magistrate.)
My View? DON'T DROWN CHILDREN. Send them to an Island. Haul the fuckers down the Yangtzee (or your preferred Chinese body of water) and drop 'em off on the island.
The Island variables aren't too important; let's say, for shit's sake, that there's some trees, but not much else.
So, it goes like this - you're an unwanted baby. Your parents, instead of going for the Permanent Underwater Baptism opt to do a more Darwinistically Humane thing - contribute to a study which may provide the ultimate answer to questions of free will, culture, civilizations, destinies of man, and the deepest, darkest, Heart of Goodness of it all: Will a child consume his fellow child?
Such a question can only be answered by the correct response. A summation of the general theory is as follows:
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUKvOlKpxGX5TDB7giM2P02nvX3agboRVBR-MMEHgqNHo8dEagBNViPC9z9na1TJi1Dzn113w7n_AewD9JWhyphenhyphenTj5Xn7UiLaOD2JDw91yQmCHAyIlFrqAckrH9T_dnE3wjCPNQ/s320/sealy.jpg)
In the initial stage, you drop off 100 or so babies, complete infants. Please keep in mind, folks, that this is INSTEAD OF drowning them, which makes everything A-OK! So, you drop them off, with no food.
One year later, you return (Armenia, City in the Sky!) And drop off another 100 or so babies. Would there be any there to greet them? What happened to the original bunch?
I wager most would die. But I believe the indomitable spirit of one (or a few) would fight and survive, but it would be a success achieved haphazardly, almost randomly - some, however, might say destined.
I think that they wouldn't be able to eat and would perish, but this is where random DNA mutations would kick in. Say, for example, some kid is born with a rare affliction where he bites constantly. Perhaps he, lying in the sand with his other brothers and sisters, no hope, completely helpless, rolls onto the kid next to him.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1Y8lIYG2Av5gkb4jmLTfaPNPXJsyhfB7A7G_qh1Cj3I-9vicraNv8REYGQ-MOVfdvxeQ90l9P7cAsc8TUiD16BswmbciiKLc15krElUcYbObnPA2V3e9lqSTV3kR5WJqr5w5/s320/baby1.jpg)
Then, he starts biting, as he has no control. Say he bites the kid and starts eating him. Sucking his nutrients out, whatever vampirirc possibility you could imagine - yeah, I've thought them all out. These are INFANTS - gumming their way to gastrointestinal satisfaction.
That one would stand a greater chance. Say he rolls down to the ocean, and keeps chewing, and he eats some bugs, maybe swallows a live crab walking across his helpless baby face, and a HUGE choking struggle ensues, which the baby eventually wins, through reaction alone, Heroically. Then the monolith from 2001 descends, and man achieves a state of evolution.![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4V3FJW0YNXhCGA-mZyfUsofmlP-eGz52RpygDwN6U3Bk8AoPi0Q4hnY42Qny8PXCpbolWdTUtZBrU70zQYffXh0uIaRvURIHHBYbQEzo9i_LmxPnL8181rohtwesoWAaRu9ft/s320/monolith.jpg)
This baby slowly ages, makes it to year two. Not eating much, but getting by. Inadvertently eating some sand, brush, perhaps eating his way through the shit heap of corpses gathered on the beaches, catching some dangling flesh from the carrion passing overhead.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXNjZ1p51PJb_ikCIBUHoHdab25si_ZLDFWtP0fb03nBQg7GuAuw0Z7_3Ip0IaWNVdhM4sNgFQPlk2PlIPi3YBZ72E2vfI2LxhylNO0I_D6MvmzgHhwDjw7rN4zzB_s8ULKMT/s320/baby2.jpg)
That baby could stand a chance. When the boat arrives dropping off the participants for year three, it's a free for all. The question is, what would that child now be like, having grown up on an island of abandoned Chinese babies?
Eventually, he would feel the familiar instinct, and want to protect one of them. He would take a child as his own, and raise him on the island's most fertile, consistent, formula: Chinese babies. Probably sushi-style, as I doubt cooking implements would evolve sooner than age 6 or 7, but you never know. What would such a child create?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8Ejg6eJV1bDKOhNpogYCQCTZcmu1Jqc2Cum-4P15pFy-qPCO24n0MpQ7ZwLCMdm14H7DCHDgFYnmXJOcXUWLwo7JJhei1HdY0ZJxZpMQpORnzgp7NirVlJz5coBaliiB4jMp/s320/baby3.jpg)
Would s/he reach into the bowels of the delivered masses to build a theater of existence, and in it, achieve reality?
Would he raise a child, a wife, a husband, a civilization?
Or would he just club and eat babies?
You decide. I may just turn this blog completely over to Google AdSense and reap the benefits of such a wondrous inquisition.
Not a vainglorious epic, nay. Were I to danse in the idiom of another, your love for me would wane.
Many years ago, mine eyes did see the glory of a college dorm room. Fastened as a veritable Chateau, my room was, quite literally, the Turret.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXu6TXikdHdIpelHfSD-No_i2h3BUptLh4TOEzZcYzFbHY8QJNTnOeQWqSjQQpWureevAm8gMdO4-fuFrvPDrmqckaFkcnMRGxONRjRtFtJSNu2yWSBPt7mUugo-Y8iezkltiy/s320/MiddlePost.jpg)
Numerous hours were spent synchronizing Alice in Wonderland to Dark Side of the Moon. At the 3:14 mark, I believe - at least that's what the timer on my VCR said. And says.
Also, playing Twisted Metal 2.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicX8chQ4d97bFew0gdfJvBQaXnC9I2PinN5S_QaJlxzFVVEbWmFWUw4eFT_TDaQG6CwRULeGRzGqNzOnH9mLGfrOxYuL5tIILtYmmygbDOVDWMOP98iUEb83y7KuZ_mqzC4eYc/s320/Calypso_in_Twisted_Metal_2_Intro.jpg)
One night, we established a truth so wonderful, life-affirming, and prescient, one wonders how the great continuum of human thought hath not pontificated in it's general direction.
It's basically, unequivocally, The Chinese Baby Island Quorum.
Now, I know what you're thinking. No, not that. Listen - yes, That's It. That's the One. Move with it. Mull it over; let it meander through your own mental ranch dip, marinade. And then, nod slightly, feel the beginnings of a smile appear on your face. Let your face relax. Swallow the visceral composite of your own mental excellence.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-IMMTmUeaQZEjuX1RUkGID_B3omQ2HgcYG66wvti32p-rljqPZHtO4SFJ-mjBmBO2eFcSs65AyoZE73Yplok3LkUvyiiaM8DavWMl20Gb6FVGUyd-3ysa-CRhA3Ff23P9bsP/s320/Santo.jpg)
"Look at your old men dying..
Look at your women crying..
Like they've always done before."
I'm hyponotized.
So, the theory, nay, the Great Chinese Baby Island Question?
Well, it's actually more of a Great Chinese Baby Island Experiment. It was begat, in the Turret Room of the Chateau of an Unnamed College or University, in the late 1990s. Down the hall lived an Albanian woman, who, if Albania still had monarchy or royalty, would have been a Princess. She had a monster Rack, and a haughty, regal, yet totally good person being demeanor.
But the Theory! Ah, yes. The theory was begotten, AND Made. Now, the Chinese. I LOVE the Chinese. And, more importantly, They're Coming. That's the general undercurrent of most political discourse. They consume natural resources like locusts! Shady Oil Dealings! Damn it, I'm in. I will welcome them, though not as invaders. As neighbors in our complete global consumption.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpfePPA7-roKBM15R2T2aemmEIhgMSabXn8-0sWm0wKxrlyr4ARrNqk6EQjha5a2rzhqLqpdR2ZAbMwRGSsP0sHYWp7491HCnTZzZyGbsAN28e8biRaAA6zrQMI8eDiQs1ZRTl/s320/12twen_CA0ready.jpg)
Also, I'm welcoming them as fellow members of The West, for what is direction, if not Relative? In fact, they are no longer from the "Far East." Us and China, we now the West.
Much like others before them, however, China have done (and may, perhaps continue to do) some Weird Shit.
For example, the whole If-it's-a-girl, Drown-it-Thing, as well as the Binding-O'-The-Feet.
So all that I have to say stems from an analysis of the first option - Say a family gets rid of their firstborn because it's not a Son, or perhaps chuck the male child, since they needed a Daughter (to sell for a high dowry to the local magistrate.)
My View? DON'T DROWN CHILDREN. Send them to an Island. Haul the fuckers down the Yangtzee (or your preferred Chinese body of water) and drop 'em off on the island.
The Island variables aren't too important; let's say, for shit's sake, that there's some trees, but not much else.
So, it goes like this - you're an unwanted baby. Your parents, instead of going for the Permanent Underwater Baptism opt to do a more Darwinistically Humane thing - contribute to a study which may provide the ultimate answer to questions of free will, culture, civilizations, destinies of man, and the deepest, darkest, Heart of Goodness of it all: Will a child consume his fellow child?
Such a question can only be answered by the correct response. A summation of the general theory is as follows:
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUKvOlKpxGX5TDB7giM2P02nvX3agboRVBR-MMEHgqNHo8dEagBNViPC9z9na1TJi1Dzn113w7n_AewD9JWhyphenhyphenTj5Xn7UiLaOD2JDw91yQmCHAyIlFrqAckrH9T_dnE3wjCPNQ/s320/sealy.jpg)
In the initial stage, you drop off 100 or so babies, complete infants. Please keep in mind, folks, that this is INSTEAD OF drowning them, which makes everything A-OK! So, you drop them off, with no food.
One year later, you return (Armenia, City in the Sky!) And drop off another 100 or so babies. Would there be any there to greet them? What happened to the original bunch?
I wager most would die. But I believe the indomitable spirit of one (or a few) would fight and survive, but it would be a success achieved haphazardly, almost randomly - some, however, might say destined.
I think that they wouldn't be able to eat and would perish, but this is where random DNA mutations would kick in. Say, for example, some kid is born with a rare affliction where he bites constantly. Perhaps he, lying in the sand with his other brothers and sisters, no hope, completely helpless, rolls onto the kid next to him.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1Y8lIYG2Av5gkb4jmLTfaPNPXJsyhfB7A7G_qh1Cj3I-9vicraNv8REYGQ-MOVfdvxeQ90l9P7cAsc8TUiD16BswmbciiKLc15krElUcYbObnPA2V3e9lqSTV3kR5WJqr5w5/s320/baby1.jpg)
Then, he starts biting, as he has no control. Say he bites the kid and starts eating him. Sucking his nutrients out, whatever vampirirc possibility you could imagine - yeah, I've thought them all out. These are INFANTS - gumming their way to gastrointestinal satisfaction.
That one would stand a greater chance. Say he rolls down to the ocean, and keeps chewing, and he eats some bugs, maybe swallows a live crab walking across his helpless baby face, and a HUGE choking struggle ensues, which the baby eventually wins, through reaction alone, Heroically. Then the monolith from 2001 descends, and man achieves a state of evolution.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4V3FJW0YNXhCGA-mZyfUsofmlP-eGz52RpygDwN6U3Bk8AoPi0Q4hnY42Qny8PXCpbolWdTUtZBrU70zQYffXh0uIaRvURIHHBYbQEzo9i_LmxPnL8181rohtwesoWAaRu9ft/s320/monolith.jpg)
This baby slowly ages, makes it to year two. Not eating much, but getting by. Inadvertently eating some sand, brush, perhaps eating his way through the shit heap of corpses gathered on the beaches, catching some dangling flesh from the carrion passing overhead.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXNjZ1p51PJb_ikCIBUHoHdab25si_ZLDFWtP0fb03nBQg7GuAuw0Z7_3Ip0IaWNVdhM4sNgFQPlk2PlIPi3YBZ72E2vfI2LxhylNO0I_D6MvmzgHhwDjw7rN4zzB_s8ULKMT/s320/baby2.jpg)
That baby could stand a chance. When the boat arrives dropping off the participants for year three, it's a free for all. The question is, what would that child now be like, having grown up on an island of abandoned Chinese babies?
Eventually, he would feel the familiar instinct, and want to protect one of them. He would take a child as his own, and raise him on the island's most fertile, consistent, formula: Chinese babies. Probably sushi-style, as I doubt cooking implements would evolve sooner than age 6 or 7, but you never know. What would such a child create?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8Ejg6eJV1bDKOhNpogYCQCTZcmu1Jqc2Cum-4P15pFy-qPCO24n0MpQ7ZwLCMdm14H7DCHDgFYnmXJOcXUWLwo7JJhei1HdY0ZJxZpMQpORnzgp7NirVlJz5coBaliiB4jMp/s320/baby3.jpg)
Would s/he reach into the bowels of the delivered masses to build a theater of existence, and in it, achieve reality?
Would he raise a child, a wife, a husband, a civilization?
Or would he just club and eat babies?
You decide. I may just turn this blog completely over to Google AdSense and reap the benefits of such a wondrous inquisition.