Going hunting on Friday

Well, it’s what you’d expect from the Underclass – being stupid they all confuse hunting (read “personally killing”) animals for eating meat bought from the store. They’re not the same thing, you buffoons.

“Hugo Phurst” confounds the two claiming that wild game “is what we were meant to eat.” Really? I think HE’S the one living “two million years ago.” We don’t need to personally KILL animals today, Hugo.

“Cranky” does the same thing. He claims he likes to fill up his freezer with deer body parts. Eats the liver that night and gives the heart to his dad. Good old dad, I bet he gobbles it down pronto. But why don’t you fill it up with meat bought at the store Cranky? Why do you want to KILL it yourself? Cranky wondered how long it would take before some “douche” would write an anti-hunting comment.” Sorry Cranky, but YOU’RE the “douche.”
You’re also an engorged prolapsed bowel.

Ivan is, “technically speaking,” wrong. My comment WAS anti-hunting. Suppurating anal fissures like Sucks get their kicks from KILLING defenceless animals. Their “kicks,” of course, include orgasming by either getting their load off, grunting, in the bushes before butchering or beating their meat behind a tree afterwards. Anything else they tell you is just bullshit.

But Ivan was also right: Yes, Ivan, it WAS an anti-Underclass comment but, as with so much else – bloodlust, coarsness, and simple stupidity come to mind – they are found in the Underclass in their fullest expression.

No, I’m not off my meds and I don’t need to “get a grip” since this has happened twice before – i.e. immediately following my reply to Oceanchick’s reply to a comment of mine. See a pattern there, Oceanchick?

Her reference to the abbatoir worker as being comparable to Sucks killing the deer was “way off the track” since the former does it as a job and the latter for the pure pleasure of killing an animal. I claimed that the psychological trajectory of the Hunter was comparable to that of the Rapist. The Hunter plans his attack on his prey, the Rapist plans his seduction; the Hunter penetrates his prey with a bullet, the Rapist with his penis; the Hunter climaxes with the kill, the Rapist with an orgasm.

But the Hunter/Rapist wants more – he wants complete power, complete control since that is what he lacks in real life. (I wondered whether Sucks lay down with the body of the deer and had a post-coital cigarette.)

Sucks, like the other commenters, still appears not to have grasped my distinction between hunting and eating meat. Hunting has nothing to do with eating meat, as Sucks seems to think. He can buy his food at the supermarket. Hunting, on the other hand, has EVERYTHING to do with killing the animal. In spite of Sucks’ claims to the contrary, it’s as simple as that.

I know if I see Oceanchick appear again in reply to a comment of mine, I’m getting out of there.

Thank you for your clarfication Maude and my apologies to Oceanchick. However, the coincdence of her responses to my comments resulting in my rejoinders to her responses being deleted was, to say the least, more than concidence. I began to think that Maude was simply the frontman for Oceanchick.

However, it also seems to me that comments being deleted on the basis of “anonymous reports” sounds a bit like The Court of Star Chamber to me. Who are these people? Why don’t they reply in the usual fashion? If they are offended and plan to report a “violation,” why don’t they say so? Then at least we know who they are. What, for that matter, is a “violation?” Unlike others on this site, I have never exposed the identities of other individuals (like mine was) which, as I understand it, IS a violation. Why weren’t their comments deleted? What, for that matter, is the “violation” I have committed? Are these moles simply being “offended? Is that sufficient? I think the deletion process in general and the nature of “violations” needs to be clarified.

For those rednecks who accuse me of being some sort of weirdo, why not try reading a bit of psychology? A direct linkage between hunting and sex has solid foundations in the literature but, of course, the rednecks don’t read. They just know they’re right.

For the Hunter/Rapist, the prey is all the same, whether it’s meat in the freezer or meat in the bed. I agree Maude, it is rather creepy, but there you are.

I would like to thank Maude for her extended reply to my observations. However, I think that there are difficulties in her account. I will take her observations seriatim:

First, I did not know nor how I should have been expected to know that you are female. But the point, as with so much else of your account, is irrelevant.

Second, you plead guilty to “forgetting a comma” which changed entirely the meaning of your post. You ask “What does that even mean?” in respect to the whole thread “being Balls?” What it means, Maude, is that in your view my post was entirely bullshit without, of course, giving any grounds for you assertion. That is what it means.

Third, you state, incoherently, that you have “removed a number of posts over the past few months both by you and about you.” The simple fact is that I have never asked for any posts from anyone to be removed at all. What are you talking about? I’m sure, on the other hand, there are many that have been removed “about me.” But you’re dodging the question: Why were these posts removed? You claim it is a matter of “creedence” but, of course, such creedence is never defined.

Fourth, nothing “ails” me at all Maude, only the the activity of the covert “night crawlers.” Further, I never wanted you to tell me “who is reporting comments for removal and to expect as much is ridiculous.” I agree, it is ridiculous. I simply want them to emerge from the shadows themselves and support their accusations. Admittedly, a faint hope.

Finally, I was puzzled by your closing line in respect to Joseph K: “Yes, this is EXACTLY the same as that.” Were you equating Bitch and Joseph K’s totalitarian state? That’s frightening Maude.

Well, unusually for me, I downloaded one of the two links and the question that occurred to me was, “What, if anything, is there which could be identified as any rudimentary neuorological activity with these people?” I failed to come up with an answer. Stay home, and have another Olands.

Cheerio!

Oh dear, here we go again. As I promised (and I keep my promises) I will respond to any commenters who exceed the last cut-off point – the last being #109 – and now here we are at #118! Can you imagine?

As you might recall before your vision became clouded with the usual vitriol (may I borrow that term from you Oceanchick? Thank you) I was dealing with Maude’s referencxe to my writing being “affected.” I think I established that while this might be the case in the present context i.e., that of LTWWB, it certainly isn’t the case in the context of academic discourse. More to the point, I’m not putting on airs, thumping my chest, and so on, but it happens to be the way I write since that’s the way I think since that’s the way I am. Now if you’re unhappy with that, well, tough.

Being a mannerly sort, I originally thought I would respond to each comment on an individual basis but, since I can see that you’re all locked into your blinkered view of intellectuals (bad word!) generally and me in particular, I just said – to hell with it! There wasn’t a bit of reflective thought in any of the nine comments so there isn’t much point to mud-wrestling with the Red Necks.

If someone would like to post a rational comment as the basis of a meaningful debate, I would be happy to engage in dialogue. Otherwise, get stuffed.

My promise still obtains. If any commenter posts after #119, I’ll respond, even if it’s in this general sort of form. You know how to get rid of me – post nothing. And, of course, I’ll be rid of you.

Cheerio!

Well, here we are, up from #119 to #129 and, true to my promise, here am I.

I used to be a liberal, in the sense that I thought there was, among humans, a basic rationality which bound us all. I guess I was mistaken. I used to think that the controlling factor was environment, that if only one’s circumstances could be changed, then we would all meet together on that further “shining shore.”

As I say, I guess I was mistaken. The incoherent venom I see on these comments must be genetic, some flawed gene from whatever source. Let’s take Oceanchick as an example: She is obviously a bitter woman, one whose bile clouds anything that might resemble rational thought. I pity her, not for her views, but rather for the ironclad ignorance in which those views are encased.

When one thinks of it, there is really nothing more to say.

Cheerio!

Well, hello again to all my friends in the Underclass!

By an unforgiveable oversight, I failed to take note of Oceanchick’s reference to masturbation in her post of Nov. 5th. You’ve got to get that sort of activity under control, Oceanchick. Think of it – no more fascist salutes with all that hair on your palm. Are you having any trouble with your eyesight lately?

I’m still working on that “accident scene in a poorly conceived black comedy,” Oceanchick. Damned profound if you ask me. Damned profound.

Well, not much more of any interest.

Cheerio!

Well, it was a glorious day in Montreal. Our prayers were answered. The sun was brilliant, everybody was out walking their dogs along the shore of Lac St. Louis as was I with my wonderful whippets. Besutiful dogs – like small greyhounds. One of their ancestors won best dog in show some years ago at Crufts, the British equivalent of the Westminster Dog Show held in New York. These babies are beautiful.

Another positive note – “Going Hunting on Friday” has made it into second place in the “Most Discussed” category of Bitches for which, of course, I take full credit. (I also take full credit for #1, “Do Your Job HRM” but I don’t want to stun you right off with my brilliance.)

I thought I’d blow by this site this afternoon to see if anyone had dared to post comment #151 in spite of my warning that to do so would result in my having to give all – or most of you – all a good spanking. Well, sadly, such is the case, and so to work.

“Dork” concedes that I have stamina. “You can fixate on a point forever,” he writes. But Dork, you must realize that stupidity comes in many guises, so it’s not really a matter of fixating on a single point as you seem to suppose. Here, Dork, have some sandpaper.

The “Voice of Treason” wants us to know that he “laughed out loud.” But that’s my line, you haemorrhoid, and don’t poach that as well.

Ralman is back – he does add an Islamic touch to the proceedings, don’t you think? But his comment is incomprehensible. It must be the noonday sun.

Ocanchick makes her return, maintaining that my sole purpose is providing “material” for self-gratification. As usual, however, Oceanchick is wrong: As I told Maude some time ago, there are two reasons for doing what I do on this site. The first is to have some good clean fun. I put it down to my natural coltish exuberance, nothing to do with self-gratification in Oceanchick’s depraved sense. The second, as I also said, was to rub the Redneck Strutters’ noses in their own shit. You’ve got to watch yourself Oceanchick. If you feel a slight pressure on the back of your head, you know what’s coming next. (But what about that clarification on that “black comedy” you were supposed to give Oceanchick? I’ve been waiting, but my patience is running short.)

Well, there we are for now. Any comment after this one and I’ll be back, pulling your pants (and panties) down to give you all a good spanking.

Cheerio!

Hello again from Montreal. As yesterday, it’s a bit overcast but we’re hoping for another glorious day for our (the whippets and me) stroll along the Lakeshore Road here in Lachine (a Montreal “borough” next to Dorval). People stop and stare, cards slow down to have a look, and even strangers have taken photos, and I’m not talking about me!

At 167 comments we’re closing in on “Do Your Job, HRM” for the championship title for “Most Discussed” bitch. Even though I was instrumental in securing “Do Your Job” its first place finish, I’m still excited about “Going Hunting On Friday.” Aren’t you? Anyway, back to the mailbag.

“Dork,” you mustn’t be bitter. But you must try and think of something original to say.

“Nice Goin Fat” points out that it is Birdie’s lips that have attracted all his Ph.D. friends. It has to be something like that, Fat, because it sure isn’t his mind. (Are Birdie’s lips pendulous and glistening, Fat? You sound interested yourself.)

Little Hugo Phurst comes on with a quote from Pythagoras! My God, Hugo, I bet you had to sit down after that one. But “wither?” Are you sure you copied that right, Hugo?

Ralman is back, wondering about the extra letter. It’s my little joke, Ralman, just an example of my puckish sense of fun. However, I didn’t realize you were female so I suppose the suffix “man” did sound a bit odd to you. In any case, I think it supports my claim, made earlier in a comment to Maude who, as it turns out, is also female, that one cannot determine the gender of the writer simply by examining the text. More “pointers” are required. Do you have any views on this, Ralwoman? Do you want to share them?

Well, there we are. Since this comment was #168, #169 will be the magic number announcing my return to give you all another good spanking.

Cheerio!

Good evening to all once again from Montreal. The day didn’t turn out quite as hoped but we managed to get one walk in with the whippets in the morning who, of course, send their regards.

Before going into the mailbag I thought I would add a postscript to my comment on “Nice Goin Fat” in my last post. As you might recall, Fat was turned on by “Birdie’s” big, pendulous, glistening lips and I thought to myself that if, as I suspect, Fat is morbidly obese and experienced penile tumescence in respect to Birdie, he would not be able to visually confirm it. I think that this might explain Fat’s distress.

“Paingirl” writes asking for some pictures of the glorious whippets but, as far as I am aware, the technology to send them to you on this site is not yet in place. But, of course, I could be wrong.

Grace O’Malley cryptically writes, “Occam’s Razor?” I think we might have a philosopher here but everything will depend on her reply. As we all know, William of Occam (or Ockham as it is usually spelt in English) of the 14th century maintained that “Entities are not to be multiplied without necessity.” (He actually didn’t say exactly that, but it doesn’t matter.) What this means is that where everything that can be interpreted without assuming a further hypothetical entity, there is no ground for assuming it. Ockham, of course, was against assuming divine intervention as an explanatory cause for this-world entities and to that extent he was the father of modern empiricism, i.e., that “what you see is what you get.” However, difficulties arise in his account, not the least of which is the APPLICATION of the Razor. In other words, what is to count as an “entity?” – the concept of the “apple” or the sense impression of it as a “round red object?” And what is to count as “necessity?” Who (or what) determines the boundaries of theoretical discourse in this regard? I await Grace’s reply with alacrity.

“Dork” is back, claiming that I am “getting weaker and weaker.” But Dork, haven’t you learned anything? That’s just your introduction. As an old professor of mine used to say, “Right, now prove it.” Now, Dork, prove it.

Ivan and Little Hugo Phrost are starting to sing. I think they’re getting weaker and weaker. Time for me to get out of here.

By my count, we’re 7 comments away from first place in the “Most Discussed” Bitch. Tomorrow could tell the tale! Stay tuned!

Cheerio!

Good morning once again from Montreal! Another dull day appears to be upcoming. A little drizzle which, of course, is unacceptable to the whippets. No moisture descending or underfoot, thank you very much.

Mixed news: I note that “Going fishing on Friday” has now assumed first place in the “Most Discussed” category of Bitches! However “HRM, do your job” in which I played a pivotal role in securing its championship ranking has – wait for it – BEEN DELETED! Why am I not suprised about this? (Didn’t see Oceanchick hanging around, but then you never know.) So the race to the wire between “HRM” and “Going Fishing” has been derailed (if that’s the correct metaphor).

Paingirl correctly notes the pre-eminence of the whippet but I’d like to add a few clarificatory remarks. She writes that they are less prone to bone cancer than the “greys” (i.e., greyhounds) but they are certainly not less prone to soft-tissue cancers. At the moment, old Harlow (14 years of age and not one of the five-year-old twins) is recovering after surgery for a soft-tissue sarcoma on her right ankle. Since the tumour was large, the wound was not able to be stitched closed so we had to go the central veternary clinic three times a week at 7:30AM for three weeks to get her dressing changed. The dressing is now off and she appears to be recovering nicely although vigorous exercise is, of course, to be avoided. In fact, we didn’t want her climbing the stairs in case of a fall, so we pulled out the sofa hide-a-bed on which all five of us can be found. The twins have their own room and I retire to our bedroom, but my wife stays down with Harlow. (By the way, the “H” refers to her kennel name and indicates the year she was born. We adopted her from a couple who were splitting up and she never had any other name than her kennel name. The twins, by contrast have the kennel names of “Madeira” and “Magnolia” meaning that they were born five litters after Harlow, who is their great aunt. We’ve had all our whippets from a breeder in eastern Ontario, the first being “Sweet Ashley” – the “A” marking the very first of the litters. “Annie” – a beautiful dog and my pseudonym on another site – had the kennel name of “Brimstone,” i.e., the second litter.) Well, enough about the whippets, for now anyway.

No sign of Grace yet and her reply to my observations about the principle of “Ockham’s Razor,” the view that entities should not be multiplied beyond necessity. By “entities” Grace obviously means the number of comments on this thread and thinks that Ockham’s Razor should be invoked to cut them off. But I still think that my point about what constitutes “necessity” is not itself a part of the principle. In other words, Ockhasm’s Razor does not contain the criteria for its own application. These must be established on independent grounds which Grace has, so far, failed to do.

Well, that’s it for now. I hope this entire thread, now that it’s in first place, will not be deleted. Anyone seen Oceanchick hanging around?

Cheerio!

Hi Paingirl,

Yes, whippets are very sensitive to anasthetics since the have a very large muscle-fat ratio, ie. like the greyhounds, they’re all muscle and bone and no fat which absorbs the anasthesia.

As a matter of fact, I’ve just come in from walking all three girls, the twins for their regular down on the Lakeshore and Harlow, for the first time in over a month, around the block. She’s doing very well – her wound is now no more than just a scratch. Healing very nicely.

The technical name for her soft-tissue sarcoma is a mouthful -“hemangiopericytoma” – but the good news is that it is slow growing, tends to remain local, and not metasticize to the lungs. Her histology report is still out there but the pathologist doesn’t seem to be in any rush to get the results to us which we interpret as a good sign. It seems that they got the entire tumour, including the cells at the base. Fingers crosssed.

Cheerio!

I must thank Grace for her reply to my observations about Ockham’s (Occam’s) Razor but I think her responses might be disingenuous.

First, she states that I’ve “beem missing something very important here.” Tell me Grace, tell me, what it that I have been missing? God, I want to learn.

Secondly, and mystifyingly, she reports that “nothing is ever what it seems. No one is ever who they appear.” But Grace, how did you know this? Are you possessed of the powers of clairvoyance? Talk to us Grace. Reveal your powers of the occult!

Cheerio!

I await your reply with my little friend called “Alacrity.” Down, Alacrity, down!

Good morning to all from Montreal (hey, that rhymes – at least if you’re an anglo). The sun is shining brightly and I’m looking forward to taking the twin whippets for their morning constitutional along the Lakeshore. We’ll pick up Harlow when we return for her around-the-block tour.

We’re now up to comment #177. Too bad “HRM, do your job” was deleted as it stood at #182. It could have been a photo finish!

Well, yes Paingirl, the our whippets are not rescue dogs, but I admire those people who do adopt them. On the contrary, it’s a pricey proposition these days to acquire a pedigree, Canadian Kennel Club registered whippet – about $1000.
But they are fast. After the greyhound and the saluki (the Arabian wolfhound), the breed is the fastest in the world. They originated in the north of England for “coursing” rabbits – a nasty “sport.” (One which The Blowhard would enjoy.) They can hold their own with the greyhound over the first 100 yards but the Greyhound, because it is three times the size, gradually pulls away. I’ve been at local whippet coursings. A rag is tied to a wire connected to a motor and a series of pulleys over a grass course and, at the signal, they take off. The grass flies up in the air! Years ago we had a minature poodle who we thought was fast. When we would throw a ball, she would jump up and down three times to get up a head of steam but, after landing on the third jump, Alice, our first whippet, already had the ball in her jaws and wondering what to do next.

Nice Goin Fat threatens violence which, of course, is uninteresting but his claim that, after being punched in the mouth, I would start speaking Aramaic IS interesting. Armaic, of course, was the language Christ spoke. A excellent choice Fat, but please, don’t put me up on a pedestal.

Grace is back to tell me what I’ve been missing with my reflections on the principle of Ockham’s Razor. Sadly, however, she simply repeats the principle and advises me to “sleep on it.” Not good enough, Grace. You’ve got to give independent grounds for maintaining that Ockham’s Razor may be justifiably invoked, grounds independent of the principle itself. I’m still waiting, Grace.

Cheerio! Have a good one!

Hello all once again from Montreal! Are you ready? With this post “Going Fishing” will have TIED the record for the “Most Discussed” blog with “HRM: Mind your business” at 182 comments! One more will do it! Who will it be?

:Paingirl – I was thinking in my last post that I hadn’t really been fair to the whippet. It is true that the whippet will be beaten in a flat race of over 100 yards by the greyhound or saluki, but the whippet was never meant for flat racing. The whippet can turn on a dime at full speed since it was raised to follow the zig-zag pattern of the rabbit. Put a whippet in with a greyhound and a saluki in a coursing match and it will be no contest – the latter two will be falling all over themselves. While on the subject, my younger whippets although they are twins, they couldn’t be more different. “Maderia” (I’ll use their kennel names since I have used one of their real names as a password on this site) is an “English style” whippet, which means she is smaller and compact and walks with a “whippet bob.” She is red-fawn with a black mask, no brindle, and terrifically alert. “Magnolia,” on the other hand is an “American style” whippet, a good three inches from nose to tail longer and two inches taller at the shoulder. She doesn’t “bob” but rather “lopes.” She’s a beautiful white (we call her “The Great White”) with large grey/taupe spots. No brindle. She has a very long, white nose. Unlike Maderia, she is a very passive dog but spectacular like a movie star. She’s more like Greta Garbo than Marlyn Monroe. All she wants is “to be left alone.”

:Ivan is fantasizing again. Pretends he’s Henry V at Agincourt. As a matter of fact I’ve recently read Juliet Barker’s “Agincourt: Henry V and the Battle That Macde England” (2005). Do you realize that at Agincourt the English archers were so ravaged with dysentry that they didn’t bother wearing pants anymore since they would immediately become soiled? They fought, quite literally, bare-arsed.

Ivan also mentions Hitler’s Berghof. I was there years ago – took Hitler’s high speed luxury elevator right up to the top. I was sporting a pendant made up of bent nails within a metal circle on my chest. I hadn’t realized it but the design resembled a swastika. The old lady at the souvenir counter eyed it eagerly, saying “Ah, ein hackenkreuz, eh?”

Paingirl: The “isle of Dr. Moreau?”

:If you like, Fat, I can give you my blessing, but it won’t be in Aramaic. Would French do?

Cheerio!

PAINGIRL HAS WON! SHE’S THE FIRST OVER THE LINE AT #183 WITH HER LINK TO TINTIN!
MY GOD! TINTIN! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT!

YOU CAN’T KEEP A GOOD FRANCOPHONE DOWN!

CHEERIO

Well, hello again to you all from Montreal. Another glorious morning which the whippets enjoyed enormously. We’re now up to 198 comments, two away from the magical #200. Will we make it? Stay tuned!

Well, it’s on to the mailbag, and guess who we find? THE BLOWHARD! This is going to be fun! What The Blowhard wants to do is to demonstrate that I am not intelligent as he supposes I think I am. He wants to demonstrate my “great lack of intelligence,” an awkward wording by which I assume he means that I am stupid. But how will The Blowhard do this? Predictably, his plan reveals his own stupidity since he obviously doesn’t realize that he is in the ring with an accomplished philosophical dialectician… Montrealman!

First, The Blowhard maintains that I was not aware that the commenters were just kidding, just playing games and egging me on. He supposes that this will demonstrate my “great lack of intelligence.” But what The Blowhard doesn’t realize, however, is that it was ME who was egging THEM on! What we have here – The Blowhard wouldn’t be able to understand this – is a “symbiotic relationship,” one in which one plays off the other. The question, of course, is who is playing off of whom? The Blowhard doesn’t realize that I could see the Redneck Strutters coming on from a mile away, let them get close, and give them a sharp kick up the – well, never mind.

More hilariously however, is The Blowhard’s claim to demonstrate my “great lack of intelligence” by failing to know whether, other things being equal, a commenter was male of female. The Blowhard claims that if I read his posts I would know but, of course, I don’t read his posts. But, and here it comes – after preening that I can’t tell the difference between male and female commenters – The Blowhard wonders, in respect to Montrealman’s comments, whether they have been posted by “him/her.” In other words, The Blowhard doesn’t know MY gender either, the basis of his entire claim to demonstrate “my great lack of intelligence!” In philosophy this is called a “performative contradiction.” It involves bringing oneself under one’s own interdict. To employ the Redneck Strutters’ argot, it is like “shooting yourself in the balls.”

It’s all down hill after this. Don’t look inside The Blowhard’s hole in the wall since what you’ll see is just a fat slug with a vapid grin on his simian features. And, of course, there’s no reason for The Blowhard to write any acceptance speech. The Blowhard’s connection with the record-breaking number of comments on this site is about the same as the connection between toilet paper and the arts of gastronomy.

Cheerio!

Another beautiful day in Montreal! Looking forward to the walk with the whippets as usual. So to the mailbag, We’re up to #207 – will these fools never give up?

: Little Hugo Phrost is back with a link. Ordinarily, as I said before, I don’t do links but the reference to “postmodernism” intrigued me. As expected it was a cartoon (oh God!) but this wasn’t bad. In fact, it caught the postmodernist view that there is no knowable objective reality – i.e., we cannot know how reality might look independently of our our own conceptual structures in terms of which we cognize it. Two things: First, Little Hugo Phrost misconceives my position: I am actually a philosophical realist in the sense that I maintain that there IS an independently-existig reality but it is very difficult to characterize apart from the structures in terms of which it is known. Second, I have argued elsewhere in a number of scholarly journals that the postmodernist, self-contradictingly and necessarily ASSUMES such a reality. Otherwise, he is condemned to solipsistically reflecting on his own mental constructs which THEN assume the status of an independent reality. But, of course, Little Hugo Phrost doesn’t read scholarly journals so how would he know?

: Cranky is back up, asking me to wish him luck on his hunting trip. As with the “performative contradiction” I mentioned in respect to The Blowhard in a previous post, I hope you blow your own balls off.

: Oh God, no. It’s The Blowhard back again. His thought and expression were so mangled that I actually had to write the products of what he laughingly calls his “mind” down on a piece of paper. Well, of course you didn’t touch a raw nerve you Blowhard since you obviously lack the intelligence to come even close. Now The Blowhard starts to dig. He claims that age 3 denoted my “leval(sic) of talking and conversation ability that you seem to lack, in all thing communication.” (I hope I got that right.) My God, what is that supposed to mean? Now The Blowhard follows Little Hugo Phrost into deep philosophical waters. He says that I must get “a better grip on this thing called reality.” Dare I ask it? What, you Blowhard, is this thing called reality? We soon find out. “Reality” for The Blowhard consists of money. He asks “how much cash will that (philosophy 101) in the real world to pay your bills?” The Blowhard, not unexpectedly, is a skin-surface materialist. “Reality” for the Blowhard begins and ends with money and its acquisition. What a dick. Finally, snd also not unexpectedly, The Blowhard – of course without knowing it – reveals his simplistic, anti-intellectualistic nominalism. He asserts, in his mangled fashion, that “all those big words, and not much sense of even self-intelligence of your own behind them.” The Blowhard, although of course he wouldn’t know or understand this, believes that “all those big words” are simply that, big words floating around on their own. For The Blowhard, they have no relation to reality which, for The Blowhard, consists in this case of my “self-intelligence of your own behind them.” Of course, if this is the case, then The Blowhard’s own words suffer a similar fate. I had to lie down after reading The Blowhard’s mangled missive but I’ll recover shortly.

Well, that’s our philosophy lesson for this morning children.

Cheerio!

Good morning from Montreal! Another suny day by the look of things, and the whippets are waiting for their walk so, as usual, I’ll be brief.

: Little Hugo Phrost posted the same time I did but I did have a look at his links. As usual when I look at cartoons on my screen, I felt my brains draining out onto the floor. Please, Littrle Hugo, no more subliterate links!

: Crank (lose that fag “Cranky”, Crank) is back up together with More(Or Less). Crank, do you know that when More(Or Less) says that he “moved up” to a 30:06 that he was saying the he had a bigger penis than you? Do you understand that, Crank? Crank, you’ve got to bust a cap on that dude. Follow him into the woods, Crank, and blow his ass off with your Winchester. Yeah. And Crank, I’m worried about your wife. That ain’t natural female behaviour. Is she having gender issues?

: Little Hugo Phrost is back up saying that Bertrand Russell is an “idiot.” The basis of his (Hugo’s) claim appears to be that he (Russell) claimed that Aristotle failed to confirm the number of his wife’s teeth by counting them. It could be a true anecdote, Little Hugo, but saying that his wife would accost him does not, repeat, does not constitute a rebuttal of Russell’s claim. As you probably don’t know, Russell, in addition to being a great philosopher and mathematician, was also a great logician. You must listen to Russell, Little Hugo, if only to acquire the rudiments of some logical reasoning. (Dr. Richard Scott Nokes?)

: Ivan is back again calling Russell a “twat.” Can you imagine – the Appalling Buffoon calling Russell a twat? You must have a credible source for such scandalous comments on Russell’s belief states, you twat! Remember, you twat, that’s a RELIABLE source!

: My God, Little Hugo Phrost is back up again claimning that Plato and Aristotle continually contradicted themselves. You know what’s coming, don’t you Hugo. Would you please give one, JUST ONE example of such contradiction? No, I didn’t think you could, you twat.

: Crank and More(Or Less) are back, babbling about their penises. It’s into the shower with both of you!

: Ivan is back. babbling about something or other. It seemed a pilot crashed somewhere at some time while doing something he shouldn’t. That was a damned shame, wasn’t it, you twat.

Cheerio!

:

Well, hello again from Montreal. Just passing by to give the miscreants a deserving cuff on the ear. By the way, the day turned out magnificently. The whippets and I basked in the sunshine and had two, yes two, walks. Now to the mailbag which, I must say, is rather thin conceptually speaking.

: Crank (9:15PM) talks about people who don’t “get war.” Get war Crank? Who whoo! Get back to working on your penis, Crank.

: Ivan, you are coming close to the brink. Reflect on your mental landscape. Don’t even think of playing with your penis.

: The Turd [aka More(Or Less)] is back up, playing with his penis once again. Leave it alone for God’s sake, you turd!

: Dork attempts to say something but, as usual, winds up saying nothing.

: Ivan is cranking up his fantasies again. He talks about my book, “Zen and the Art of Numismatics.” I think you might be on to something, Ivan. Talk to me about it.

I find Paingirl to be uncomfortably sexual. She speaks to Ivan about something occurring “two times.” Ivan, have you no restraint? But then, Paingirl doesn’t seem to mind. In the next post Ivan does a “Rawk.” Is this some sort of orgasmic shout? Tell me about it, children.

TTFN comes on yapping about Johnny Carson. But she’s not stupid. She knows better than to get in the ring with MONTREALMAN directly. She knows when she’s in with somebody with a SUPERIOR MIND!

Finally, Paingirl is back up talking about “suck and blow.” That’s enough of that Paingirl. Lie down and think of Ivan.

Cheerio!

Hello everyone from Montreal! Just in from a walk with the whippets on what is an absolutely spectacular day. Not a cloud in the sky, not a breath off the lake!
Outstanding!

Before going to the mailbag I thought I would comment on Ivan’s reference to my (non-existent) book “Zen and the Art of Numismatics” (a crib from Robert Pirsig’s “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.”) Depending on how one interprets Zen, they don’t really appear to be suitable bedfellows. Numismatics is an ultimately anal activity (in the Freudian sense) as it is inspired by the spirit of acquisition. (Think of “The Collector.”) Zen, on the other hand, is inspired by the “letting loose” of all acquisitions including, and unfortunately for me, one’s rationality. It aims to become “mindless” in a very fundamental sense. One thinks of the Zen poem quoted in Hermann Hesse, the Swiss mystic who introduced Zen to Europe in the 1920’s. Get this:

Before I studied Zen,
Mountains were mountains
And rivers were rivers.

While I was studying Zen,
Mountains became other than mountains
And rivers became other than rivers.

After I had studied Zen,
Mountains were once again mountains
And rivers were once again rivers.

In other words, on Hesse’s reading, Zen aims at the unreflective rationality (if that is the correct word) of the child. It aims to transcend the second stage, that of reflection, interpretation, and critical thinking. But that’s the stage I’m at and I really don’t want to move to stage three because rationality, let’s face it, is all we have. Any thoughts on that Ivan?

Now to the mailbag:

: Little Hugo Phrost is up with an anecdote about Hobbes, “one of the very best (philosophers) as far as I am concerned.” I’m sure many of the Redneck Strutters – The Bowhard in particular – would agree with you Hugo, for Hobbes’ most famous quotation (from his “Leviathan”) is that man’s life is “nasty, brutish and short.” After he devours the deer, Hugo, The Bowel-Blast wants to devour you!

: Dork 2 offers an obscure reference “move ears y’all (in Cleveland voice).” What on earth can that possibly mean, Dork?

: Sadly Ivan is back with another orgasmic “Rawk” after offering an equally obscure “LMFAO.” Were you aroused by it, Ivan? Did it do it for you?

Well, that’s #250. Can you imagine?

Cheerio!

Just passing through, taking out the afternoon trash so to speak:

: Smegface – here’s a treat, but only if you wipe that smeg off the corners of your mouth. Tell us all what it was like up under The Blowhard’s foreskin. Pretty dark, eh?

: Ivan The Arsehole (aka “The Night Crawler”) – a “half laced Greb?”

: Crank – I’ll give you something to work on. Check with Smegface first.

: Paingirl – I’m sorry, but I really don’t think that you have a mind.

: Halingangel – “Sheldon?”

: The Turd (aka MoreOrLess) – then why don’t you shut up?

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

Good evening children. We’ve got a lot on our plate so we’ve got to get busy.

: Paingirl posted just before my last and I didn’t get a chance to review it. But I think she has done very well. She said, “I have made a mistake monsieur there is no hope.” Punctuation aside, I think this is a tremendous advance and I congratulate Paingirl on her intellectual honesty. I’m thinking of opening “Montrealman’s Clinic for the Seriously Delusional.” It is modelled on Alcoholics Anonymous. For example, Joe Blow gets up and says, “I’m Joe Blow, and I am an alcoholic.” The first step is the most important. I can see Paingirl getting up in my clinic and saying, “I am Paingirl, and I have no mind.” We applaud her. “Good going Paingirl,” some cry. Others, usually female, rush up and rub her back to calm her down. I think I’m on to something! Let me know what you think.

: Ralman calls me a “tool” and an “arsetard.” That was very hurtful Ralman (yes, I know you claim to possess labia instead of a penis but I’m happier with “Ralman.” I found “Ralwoman” awkward and “Ralm” incomprehensible.) In any case I was very interested in your claim that you understood how Bitch “really works.” Would you expand on this Ralman? And, by the way, any more “arsetard” business, and I’m going to have to pull down your panties and give you a good spanking. (I gave a good spanking to Realchick and look, she’s up twice! (See below.) She really enjoyed it, and confidentially, so did I.

: Now Oceanchick, we both know better, don’t we. Please, no pop psychology. One of us maybe into “mirth” but, baby, it ain’t you. Mod number please!

: Realchick, you illiterate, that’s “bored” and not “board.” Why did I spend so much time talking to you?

: TTFN is experiencing some sort of inner tempest. She demands, “Mod 5, reveal yourself!” But you ARE Mod 5, TTFN! As Oceanchick would say, “Get a grip!”

: Realchick is back – her spanking certainly turned her on – but continues her illiterate musings. That should be “quiet” time, not “quite” time. I think I’m really going to have to pull your panties down again, Realchick, and give you another good spanking!

: Some fool called “Purple Fire” said something and then retreated back into the shadows.

: Paingirl is back but appears to be losing it. Can someone rub her back?

Well, another triumph!

Cheerio!

Good morning boys and girls. There’s been a bit of a dusting of snow down but it’s actually quite pretty.

Before going to the mailbag, just a word about Oceanchick with whom I’m a bit disappointed. Sadly, she didn’t take the bait I had left out in full view on Nov. 25 when, in response to her comment about my “boorish, pediatric inclinations” (I copied the last word out quickly and so it may not be accurate but I’m too lazy to go and check) I responded that “I just wanted you to know, Oceanchick, that there is nothing at all wrong with my feet!” I thought this was hilarious, thinking that Oceanchick would know the difference between podiatry and pediatrics and would jump all over it after which I would proceed to pull the rug out from under her, but nothing! No response! One can only assume that my assumption about her knowledge was misplaced. God, it’s awful having to explain your own jokes! Anyway, on to the mailbag. Disappointingly,
the usual flyspecks are back up again.

: Ivanthearsehole sinks into incomprehensibility and incoherence (as usual) yapping about my being a cosmetic salesman (woman?).

: Smegface and The Gargoyle do their tag-team number, or try to. Smeg, for God sakes, give your sources, in this case the “Russell” reference. Yes, you would like Bacon, wouldn’t you. The Scientific Method, and all that (which, of course, you never heard of).

: The Gargoyle wants us to know that Peter Doherty, the old druggie, is her hero. This is not suprising. She goes on to do a “ramble” about my “insane conclusions, my incredulous (I think she means “incredible”) assumptions, and delusional ramblings.” Of course, not a word about why they are insane, incredible and delusional but this is what we have come to expect from The Gargoyle. She then proceeds to descend into her own delusional insanity with which I won’t bother.

: Ivanthearsehole is back up with a charge of “trainspotting.” While I have not seen the film (nor do I intend to) I think the underlying motivation is similar to that of Smegface and his mathematics (or his Baconian “science,” take your pick). Both year for order and system in a world they see as frighteningly chaotic. Sad, really.

Well, there we are children. That’s your lesson for today.

Cheerio!

Just passing by and had a bit of spare time before dinner so I’ll kick a bit of Underclass ass to work up an appetite.

: The Blowhard is back. I guess I hurt his feelings with my, “Oh, shut up!” Sorry, Bowel-Blast. Yes, now that you mention it, I think I did see someone walking by with a Nova Scotia tartan cap on his head complete with a red pom-pom on top with a moronic grin on his face. I assumed it was an escapee from the Douglas Hospital but then, flash! – realized it was The Blowhard! (By the way, Blowhard, the abbreviation for psychology is “psych.” However, I am in Philosophy, not the same thing at all. But I won’t expand on that right now.)

: The Gargoyle is back thanking me for my last post. Your welcome Garg, glad to send something you could understand. I’m still waiting for your course of studies at St. Mary’s, Garg.

: Smegface is back as usual, claiming that I’M the one dodging the issues. Come on, Smeggie! He claims, ungrammmatically, disjointedly and incoherently that “I have absolutely no knowledge of anything, other than your very narrow and virtually useless field of nothing-new philosophy. Practical abilities and experiences are completely beyond you, aren’t they?” Now listen closely Smegface: That is what is called a simple “ad hominem” argument (that’s Latin for “to the man” rather than to his ideas and totally illegitimate in debate) employed to dodge the question which, as you might remember, was the relationshiop between theoretical and practical knowledge. Never heard a word on that. And, of course, I’m still waiting for YOUR explanation of Russell”s (the “dickwad’s”) philosophy of mathematics. My ignorance of mathematics would preclude my understanding anything you might write? Not good enough, dickwad. Stop skating! Just this one question: What is the ontology of number in Russell’s philosophy of mathematics? Chew on that, dickwad.

Well, another triumph. Not difficult. Childsplay, really.

Cheerio!

You know, there is stupidity and then there is REAL stupidity as is evidenced in the case of the stupid man, Hugo (“Smegface”) Phrost. Contrary to his own opinions of himself, Smegface is really a stupid, stupid man.

First, the stupid man comes on with his stupid comment to the effect that I do not have any publications in any “single publications.” Try this, stupid: “The McGill Journal of Education” (Vol. 21, No, l); (Vol. 2. No.1); (Vol. 21, No.1); (Vol 29, No. 1); (Vol 29: No 1); (Vol. 28, No. 3); Vol. 29, No 3.); “Paideusis” (The Journal of the Candian Philosophy of Education Society) Vol. 11, No. 1.; “The Journal of Educational Thought” (The University of Calgary) (Vol. 20, No. 1); “Educational Theory” – (The University of Illinois, the premier educational journal in the US) (Vol 53, No 4); (Vol 38, No, 2); (Vol. 58, No, 2); “Interchange: A Quarterly Review of Education” – The Ontario Institute for Studies in Education – (Vol 20, No 4.); “Journal of Philosophy of Education” – The Journal of the Philosophy of Education Society of Great Britain – (Vol 21, No 1). But of course, all this will mean nothing to the stupid man. He know what he thinks and what he thinks is right!

Then the issue turns to Russell’s philosophy who, in the stupid man’s estimation, is a “buffoon.” The original issue was Russell’s philosophy of mathematics. I asked him about the ontology of number in Russell’s philosophy of mathematics but the stupid man was not able to answer. He switched horses and yapped about some engineering equations. But Commandante Esposito, who’s into this stuff, took him up on it. Smegface, skating away from the equations, said the Commandante should read Russell’s “Why I am Not A Christian” and “get back to him”. To the stupid man’s horror, he realized that the Commandante had, indeed, read it and repeated his question to the stupid man: Why is Russell a buffoon? Smegface, the stupid man, prompltly buckled saying that he “really had to revisit” Russell on this one. Oh, really, Shitface, must you? I was about to reinforce the Commandante – not that any was required – since I have also read “Why I Am Not A Christian” many times. (It’s on my bookshelf behind me as I write.) I have only one question for Shitface, the stupid man, on Russell’s “Why I am Not A Christian”: When Russell, facing God after his death, was questioned by idiots like Shitface why he was not a Christian, Russell replied: *********************

Now, Shitface, let’s hear Russell’s answer, you stupid, stupid man. Or, Shitface, do you have to “re-visit it” again?

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

Still waiting for the stupid man’s answer to my question about Russell. Of course, the stupid man doesn’t know the answer and tried to switch back to his “equations.” (Maybe the Commandante will come back and spank him again.) While you’re “getting back” to Russell’s “Why I Am Not A Christian” Smegface, here’s a second question: Why did Russell’s answer to the first question contradict the basis of your own claim that he is, as you so eloquently put it, a “dickwad?”

But it isn’s so much your stupidity that is irritating, Smegface, since I detect a strong nastiness, even a malevolence, in your writing. In common parlance, Smegface, you are really just a little prick. (I think TTFN caught a sense of this in her reply to Smegface’s comment about her in a post which, sadly, has been deleted.) Now please, Smegface, don’t respond to any of my posts since I have no intention of keeping contact with you. If you must jerk off somewhere, go off and do it in a corner.

Cheerio!

Good Morning from Montreal! I’ve got to run in a minute so here are just some quick observations on the comments in the mailbag.

: The Gargoyle writes about the “Carry On” series and of course, she’s right. They were a classic. But, unfortunately, this is the only level at which she CAN be right. Better than nothing I suppose, but not much.

: Grace writes offering me her good wishes. Thank you Grace, but I think you have misused the word “discrepant.” She’s right back up, charging me with sadomasochistic fantasies about young girls panties. Actually, it’s with young LADIES panties Grace, and any more comments like that and I’m going to have to pull YOUR panties down and give you a good spanking! I am sure you will feel better after I’ve finished. I know I will.

: Ivanthearsehole has written something in connection with which I have written “noble thoughts” but I can’t remember what he wrote or read my notes. Damn!

: Someone called Heathro is up next complaining about his blood pressure. Take some statins, Heathro, you buffoon.

: Ivanthearsehole is back up. I can read my notes on this one. They say, “Complex, arsehole, complex.” Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten what Ivanthearsehole wrote. Damn!

Well chaps, must run. (By the way, I’ve just posted another masterpiece on the “Over-Educated” thread. You’ll love it.)

Cheerio!

Well, hello again from Montreal!

A very nice sunny morning here – the whippets looked spectacular in their blue and green check coats with the red piping down the back and around the waistband. In fact a woman driver, looking at them intently, swerved to the other side of the Lakeshore Road. Fortunately, nothing was coming the other way.
A bit cloudy this afternoon. Probably some bad weather blowing up from Spryfield.

Well, what’s of interest in the mailbag? Unfortunately, nothing much. I’m thinking of restricting my observations to those comments possessing a modicum of interest and/or substance. (The criteria, while not interchangeable – i.e., something can be interesting but not necessarily substantial, and vice versa – should be present if only in the usual minimal and debased form.) Unfortunately, as I say, the criteria don’t leave much room for reflective comment.

: The Blowhard is up again (oh, God!) complaining about the length of this thread. He says – are you sitting down? – that in future he will NOT be posting since he has many things to do and not enough time to do them. It’s not going to be easy, Blowhard, without your learned commentary but somehow I think we’ll manage. Now, trot off and do all those many things.

: Grace O’Malley (didn’t I say I was going to pull her panties down and give her a good spamking recently?) thanks Ivanthearsehole for a little “behind the scenes” action – no, not THAT kind of action! – in which he told her that she had committed a horrible “faux pas” in calling me “frenchie.” (I liked your use of “faux pas,” Grace. Made me feel at home.) However, anymore of this “behind the scenes action” WILL result in my having to pull your panties down and give you a good spanking. In the interests of convenience, would you mind wearing a skirt and raise your hands over your head the next time you post. Merci!

: Ivanthearsehole is up saying “Us Redneck Strutters gotta stick together.” I don’t like the sound of that Grace. Always wear slacks around the Arsehole and don’t turn your back on him!

Well, I think I’ll slip over to “Over-Educated” and see if Mr. Fever is still in the broom closet.

Cheerio!

Well, another beautiful day in Montreal! It was so warm this afternoon that the whippets didn’t even require their coats! Can you imagine?

The mailbag is a bit spotty today, but there is a bit of salvageable material.

: Grace O’Malley asks, “Who said I wear panties?” The presumption is she doesn’t, which raises a few questions. While this might speed up giving her a good spanking, and that’s all to the good, one wonders as to the trade off. I mean, pulling down Grace’s panties is at least half the fun. One thinks of a little lace on the leg, and all that. Anyway, certain questions pop up regarding pantyless females. Principal is one relating to the exposed clitoris. It is said, from reasonably reliable sources, that the clitoris has 500 times the number of nerve-endings as the penis. My question is: With an exposed clitoris, does it feel as though you have a wild animal under your skirt all the time? Also, as the clitoris becomes engorged, do you have difficulty walking along the street or are you limited to a slow sideways shuffle? Please give thought to these questions and reply at length including, where possible, personal anecdotes.

: Ralman’s “G’day” indicates she is an Australian. My question concerns Australian sexual habits. As is well known, foreplay in Australia is minimal, perhaps owing to the convict origins of its culture. It consists of the man saying, “Brace yourself, Sheila.” Now this implies that Sheila doesn’t have any backstop – a wall or telephone pole, something like that. In other words, it’s a matter of “shaky leg” in which both participants are both free-standing. My question is this: Does Sheila have any accepted or prescribed position for her feet which will, on the one hand, brace her for the thrust and, on the other, open the vaginal orifice or is foot position purely a matter of contingent circumstance? Provide personal anecdotes where possible.

: The Blowhard is back up again – can you believe it? – claiming that he has a big contract this coming Sunday so he can’t tarry. As long as your not firebombing the pizzerias in Spryfield, you Bowel-Blast. Who gave you the contract, the Rizzutos or the Bo Gars?

Well, I think I’ll slip over to “Over-Educated” and see if Mr.Fever is still in the broom closet. I think I’ll lock it up when I get there.

Cheerio!

No Gazette on Sundays so I’m down a bit early to monitor “Hunting” and “Over-Educated.” Nothing much of interest in the latter – the Commandante made a good but obvious point and I think Fever is resigned to returning to his place in the broom closet – but the former shows possibilities, particularly Grace’s “lady delights.” As always, certain questions arise:

Grace refers to her pantyless stroll on the beach but the picture appears to have been taken on a beach like I’ve never seen. Could you possibly give its location? It looks a bit European to me. Am I right? And I’m afraid her “lady delights” were not in obvious evidence. Would it be possible to show a follow-up photo, one in which the breeze had made, so to speak, “greater headway?”

The second question refers to the breeze being “just right.” I could be wrong but the breeze on the beach can’t be coming up directly from the level of the sand and then upward between Grace’s legs. The only way I can see this is if Grace had a fan of some sort which re-directed the breeze but this might be overly revealing but then, maybe not. This dilemma opens up two other possibilities – a breeze from the rear blowing past Grace’s buttocks and then on to the clitoris – or from in front, directly on Grace’s labia. And, of course, there’s always the question of the breeze’s optimum velocity. We don’t want Grace’s labia “flapping in the breeze,” so to speak!

Finally, there’s the question of Grace’s shaving and rougeing her labia. Is the effect of the breeze on your “lady delights” maximized by shaving your pubic hair? It does seem obvious that there would be less interference with the interface between breeze and clitoris, but this has to be confirmed by Grace, possibly by means of personal anecdote.

Finally, they say that the labia loses their reddish hue as one grows older. The labia become pale in appearance, having lost their youthful blush. Grace, do you find it necessary to rouge you labia, or are they still, so to speak, “in the pink.”

Reply at length Grace, including where possible perrsonal acecdotes to heighten reader interest.

Cheerio!

Good afternoon to everyone from Montreal! A bit cloudy and brisk, but the whippets managed to get in a walk.

Nothing much in the mailbag except for one comment from someone called “Heathro” who, rising up in righteous wrath proclaims, “You’re fucking disgusting.” Well, there you go. I have offended “Heathro’s” delicate sense of propriety. But the name rang a bell. Scrolling back (Dec. 1 at 7:14 AM) I see that, for some reason, I then made Heathro’s “blood pressure rise.” Now “Heathro” obviously has no sense of humour – that’s obvious – but his rage evoked a memory of someone similar, a bright lad called “Guerilla Funk” (December 4, 6:38PM) who, with a similar flow of literary talent, wrote, “Fuck, I`d like to kick MMs head.” (Dec. 4, 6:38PM)

Now, what do you think that these two bright sparks have in common? Right, they’re both closet Nazis. Rising blood pressure, kicking heads, it’s all in the same vein. With that in mind, I just posted on “Neo Nazis alive and well in HRM.”
(Nov. 30) Yes, indeed they are, indeed they are.

By coincidence, I happen to be reading (among other things of course) Martin Gray’s “For Those I Loved” (2000), a Jew’s first-hand account of the “butchers” of Treblinka, the extermination camp in Poland. While the butchers were for the most part German and Ukranian, they did have vigorous help from the Poles and Latvians. I mention this because I think that “Heathro” and “Gueriilla Funk” would have bee ideal candidates for the job. But you never know. For people like them, there time may come! Sieg Heil!

Cheerio!

Thank you Commandante. We posted too close together and I missed your comment. I was stunned to find such cool rationality on this site. But of course, that has been your trademark in the past.

Keep it up! I’m with you all the way!

Cheerio!

Good morning to all my friends from Montreal. Yes, that’s right, all my good friends ARE from Montreal. From Halifax? Not so much.

The mailbag is getting lighter and lighter but there may be a few scraps on which to comment.

: I was very suprised to learn that “Heathro” was female. You should be a man, Heathro, since your comments reflected the bull-necked, fascist mindset so closely. I suggest a sex-change operation. Failing that, get together with “Guerilla Funk” and start the Halifax branch of the Brownshirts. And watch your blood pressure!

: Grace O’Malley is back with some sort of cryptic comment about my looking into the abyss. Now I never said you had an “abyss” Grace. I would never be so rude. “FN?”

: The Blowhard is back, yapping again about the weather, and claiming that I must be “much stupider than we all thought…” Blowhard, you must remember that single-syllabic adjectives take “more” and not the “er” ending. Now, slowly after me, I must be much “more stupid” than we all thought. Now, go back to your desk and write it out 25 times. Then get stuffed.

I thought I deserved the 500th. comment, didn’t you?

Cheerio!

Good evening from Montreal. A bit of a stormy one tonight and, since I will be busy tomorrow, I thought I would take the present opportunity to give you – or some of you – the back of my hand.

: The Commandante writes that Grace’s note was a reference to Nietzsche. Well, all I can say to Grace is that if you are quoting someone like Nietzsche, particularly on a low-life site like this, first put it in quotation marks and then give the author’s name in full. I thought, naturally enough, that it might have been something your boyfriend said after a few Olands at some low-life Halifax bar.

Anyway, Nietzsche, yes. Grace, I want you to explicate, develop and otherwise expand on Nietzshe’s concept of the “abyss.” Nietzsche, of course, was arguably the most important philosopher of the Nazi movement (Heiddegger excepted) with his concept of the “Transvaluation of Values,” the “Will to Power,” the “Geneaology of Values,” and so on, and so the topic is, well “topical” in view of our parallel thread, “Neo-Nazism is alive in HRM.” Grace, explicate, develop and otherwise expand. on Nietzsche’s concept of the “abyss.” Do it now. Grace, are you still there? Speak to us Grace!

The Commandante goes on to report that the meaning of the Nietzsche quotation was that I, through my criticism of the intellectual capacities and physical attributes of the commenters on this site, will become “what I most despise.” Precisely what that means, Commandante, is obscure, so do do clarify what you mean. While I do admit that the first part is right – I do despise the intellectual capacities of the Underclass, particularly as manifested in their typically ignorant and blowhard fashion – I deny that I have ever ridiculed their “physical attributes.” Of course, the temptation was there but my compassion for these blighted individuals, as you will readily understand, is endless.

Tne Commandante finishes with the placatory comment that these were only “conjectures” on his part but that’s not good enough. Commandante, show me now where I have ever ridiculed their “physical attributes.” I await your response with “Alacrity,” my diminutive chihuahua.

As always, a pleasure.

Cheerio!

Good Evening.

Well, it was quite a snowstorm last night and today in Montreal and the whippets, of course, were house-bound. But there’s always tomorrow. (By the way, do you like the way I always lead in with a bit of local colour? The sign of an accomplished writer, don’t you think?)

A couple of comments in the mailbag:

” The Blowhard is back up quoting something called “the law of the natural beast.” Maybe it’s something he learned in his political science class at Dal. Could you share it with us, Blowhard? But they don’t seem to have taught you adequate questioning techniques, a serious deficiency if one hopes to succeed at Dal. Consequently, you ask for some sort of global theory of mine which will “enlighten all us poor schmuck rednecks.” Well, I have indicated it before -it’s very simple – and consists only of the requirement that one give reasons to support one’s assertions. But this, of course, sounds very bland in the abstract. However, it acquires force – on occasion considerable force (cf. “Dr” Fever) – when contextualized in particular cases. In general, it involves taking a reflective or a philosophical perspective in dialogue – focusing one’s attention on the mind of the speaker (writer), but more of this in a moment. I seem to have inspired you to engage in extended and intense activity in respect to discovering my address. You see, Blowhard, you have profited immensely from my presence on this site by modelling my inquiring, reflective mind. Take the lesson and use it in your class at Dal. You’re welcome, of course,
but don’t forget to give me credit in any paper you might hand in. Simply say, “My most profound thanks to Montrealman for his inspiration and guidance. This paper would not have been possible without his patience, wisdom, and pedagogical concern. He is a magnificent teacher.”

: The Commandante is up next with the O’Malley quotation from Nietzsche. He accuses me of being a blowhard, similar to those Redneck Strutters I take to task on this site. First, I would like to congratulate you on the lack of ambivalence in your conclusion. Unlike your other posts, where you launch into what might best be called “portraits in ambivalent skywriting” (i.e., they are beside the point under review) you have come down firmly with your conclusion that I am a blowhard. You even conclude with a Q.E.D. Congratulations. However, I think you are wrong.

The question comes down to the definition of a “blowhard.” I use the term colloquially to denote someone who has nothing to say but says it with great gusto. While the second criterion might periodically apply to me, I believe that the first does not. On the contrary, I simply reply to Redneck attacks by analyzing any reasons they might offer for their views. Usually, as you might have noticed, they have none, thereby fulfilling both criteria constitutive of what it means to be a “blowhard.” In philosophy, Commandante, the two criteria are called, respectively, “necessary” and “sufficient” conditions. A full definition requires both. Q.E.D.

A few further comments: “Despise” was your word which I unwisely adopted and with which you then used as a stick to beat me with. I don’t “despise” anyone, Commandante. The debate on these threads is not, at least for me, a psychological matter. Rather it is “rational,” one in which I use the term in the broad sense of “requiring reasons.” I really want to listen to the minds of my interlocutors at work, something which is totally incompatible with my “despising” anyone. Q.E.D.

As an example, take the Nietzsche quotation. I would have found it very interesting to hear two things from Grace O’Malley who simply posted an unattributed sentence – initials don’t constitute an attribution – not even in quotation form. But let it pass. It would have been interesting for her (1) to have expanded on just what she meant by the “abyss.” Is she a Nietzschean? Is she a Nazi? Does she consider herself “beyond good and evil” as she pursues her “will to power?” In other words, is she aware of the implications of Nietzsche’s philosophy? (2) Assuming #1 has been answered, how then would Grace O’Malley have applied Nietzsche’s philosophy to me, that I had become what I criticize? This, of course, would have required illustrative examples to support her case. It would also require considerable insight into my character and intelligence on her part which, of course, she never had. If she had she fulfilled these two conditions – the necessary and the sufficient once again – then profitable dialogue might have ensued. Q.E.D.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

Good morning from Montreal. Still a lot of snow to be cleared away but I’m sure it won’t take long. Only one post in the mailbag so let’s get to it.

Lieutenant Esposito (your regular pseudonym is too pompous, at least for me but obviously not for you) takes issue with my claim that he, Esposito, is a blowhard since he satisfies the two criteria which jointly constitute the concept – having nothing to say and taking multiple paragraphs to say it. Perhaps an example would help: As you might recall, the title of this thread refers to hunting, a subject upon which you pontificated at length. You told us about your time in the slaughterhouse, about how the bears screamed when shot by the hunters you flew in to a remote area, and so on – all indicators (there were others but I’m writing from memory) that you were going to take up a position against hunting. But no, after all was said and done (well, said anyway) you came to the resounding conclusion that while you were not a hunter, you weren’t against it. I’m sure many thought as I did: Then why did you write at such length? What, beyond seeing your stuff in print, was the point? I called that “skywriting” in my previous post because that’s what it is. It entirely missed the point.

No, Lieutenant, I’m not playing any “word games.” There are criteria for the application of a word – they give the word objective meaning – and the criteria for “blowhard” are as I have stated. You satisfy both -nothing whatever to say and saying it at length. A blowhard need not shout. They can also drone.

Once again, with your one-dimensional smugness, you assume that you know best about whether or not the debates on this thread are for me “psychological.” I have said they are not – they are attempts at reflective reasoning, at least on my part – but in your pomposity you declare that my “record” speaks for itself. No Esposito, records never “speak for themselves.” They must be interpreted, and your interpretation is false. Two things. First, humour: A lot of the content in each of my posts consists of self-mockery, a quality those – people involved in mathematical certainties come to mind – who possess only one dimension would not, therefore, be able to grasp. In addition, many of those nicknames of others I gave were intended to be humorous and not seriously offensive, once again a quality which passes you by. Secondly, provocation. Unlike you, I have never initiated an unprovoked attack. Any “psychological” heat that entered into my comments was only in response to an unprovoked attack on me. In that case, Esposito, I will respond with heat but – and this is important – not just with name calling. I give reasons for what I say every time which supports my claim that my posts are based on rationality, not psychology.

But I do agree with one of your points, Esposito. We really have nothing more to discuss. Although I was never a member of your “fan club,” as you pomously assert, I did think that some of your views (such as they were) reflected my own to some degree. In that I admit I was sorely mistaken. Finally, Grace O’Malley is perfectly welcome to pull down my pants and give me a good spanking. In fact, I’ll pull them down for her myself!

Remember, Esposito, we really have nothing more to discuss.

QED

Good Evening,

Just by way of keeping you up to date, I discover that in the latest edition of The Journal of Philosophy of Education of Great Britain (PESGB, Vol. 43, Supplemnent #1) which I have just received, that I have been “cited” by a professor at Columbia University whose “Learning Our Concepts” draws on an earlier paper of mine, published in the same journal, which was playfully entitled “Getting Clearer About ‘Getting Clearer:’ R.S. Peters and Second Order Conceptual Clarification” (Vol. 21, No. 1). By the way, you will not be able to obtain a copy of this journal at the check-out counter at Sobeys.

I realize, of course, that this will mean precisely nothing to the Underclass of Halifax – little else does except the brutal side of existence – but I thought I would share it with you in any case. Ignore any of the usual onanistic comments which may follow.

Thank you for your understanding and concern.

Cheerio!

Dear Blowhard and Gargoyle,

Let me be the first to congratulate you both on your elevation to the position of Moderator since you clearly have the power to command others to stop posting (The Blowhard – “We all say goodbye to you;” The Gargoyle – “This bitch is no more!”).

However, you should speak to Kim, Ivan and zZz who do not appear to have taken any notice. I know you will exercise compassion and understanding in your dealings with them. Be gentle!

Cheerio!

Dear Gargoyle,

Thank you for your thoughtful comments. I think you will make a marvellous Moderator. I liked the reference to my “pathetic acolades” – I assume yours are infinitely superior – but “squirrrel feces?” I must object to the term “feces” as being uncharacteristic of your forthright manner. Are you attempting to put on airs?

Cheerio!

Good morning again from Montreal. We’ve had quite a bit of snow but, given the quality of the snow removal here, very little is left on the streets or the sidewalks. Lovely walking weather down by Lac St. Louis but, like I have said, the whippets don’t do winter. Anyway, three letters in the mailbag:

: Paingirl has posted a picture featuring three dogs of indeterminate breed. I studied the picture of the three of them, Paingirl, but was mystified as to its meaning. It might just lie at the surface level – i.e. we both like dogs (well, whippets only for me) and if that is indeed the case, thank you very much. However, there might be a deeper message that Paingirl wishes to impart – a connotative as opposed to simply a denotative reference – but, as I have said, I am mystified as to just what it might be. If you could throw some light on this Paingirl, I would be most appreciative.

: The Blowhard takes me to task for not realizing that he, like The Gargoyle, is not, repeat NOT, a Moderator. In his typically understated fashion, he writes, “Please get that through your thick skull.” Well, Blowhard, if you read my post of December 15 again you will see – well, maybe not – that I was being facetious. You were ACTING as though you were the Moderator but, of course, you really weren’t. I knew that, Blowhard, I knew that. In your case (as opposed to The Gargoyle’s) I referred to your comment, “We all say goodbye to you.” Well, “all” paid absolutely no attention to you, and quite rightly. So please, Blowhard, get that through your thick skull. I was glad to see that you didn’t kill a deer. That means that you didn’t also go through the hunter/rapist ritual of lying down beside the deer’s corpse and having that post-coital cigarette. A final point Blowhard: You must try and restrict your homosexual fantasies where I am concerned. Rest assured that I will rebuff any improper advances. And stop using Sebastian as your proxy.

: Finally Dork 2 is back up after saying that she was never, no never, going to post on this thread again but, well, here she is! However, her post – “Oh no… this is still real” – is cryptic. By “real” were you making some sort of metaphysical claim (i.e., an observation on the nature of reality) or did “real” simply mean “still existing,” i.e., an existential claim? In my view, the expression might cover both interpretations but, of course, I could be wrong. Could you suply greater specification? Thank you.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

Good morning from Montreal. A bit overcast right now (7:47AM) but, you never know, things might brighten up.

: Dork 2 writes perceptively that she knows that I want to be inside her. But, of course, this is only half the equation. The other half is whether or not she knows that SHE wants ME to be inside her. Write back with your thoughts on this Dork, that is, if you can remember what they were! (A joke! A joke!)

: Thank you Paingirl for your Christmas wishes. However, I reviewed the link and none of the dogs appeared to be whippets but I mustn’t quibble. Also, I am not familiar with “Wallace” and “Grommit” who may indeed be whippets. So what do I know? The only reason I thought that there might be a “hidden meaning” in your link relates to The Psycho’s (aka Hugo Phrost) psychotic post of December 17 where he wrote, “hahahaha wipe a tear from my eye. thanks for the laugh, too bad Annie’s limited perception kept her from getting it.” So, there was nothing “to get” after all or, more properly, the only thing to “get” was The Psycho’s twisted obsession.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

Hello again from Montreal! I couldn’t believe my eyes! “Going hunting on Friday” (got to get that title right) was NUMBER ONE in the “Most Read” category (8:27AM Montreal time)! Now, if we can only get going on “Most Shared” we’ll have a straight flush!

: Balls suggested that I see “what happens” in respect to my “Meaning of Life” bit. Well, what happened was my last post outlining my plans was deleted. I guess they’re trying to tell me something. So, it’s business as usual.

: Another “billet doux” from The Blowhard. “Shove the fuck over to France” he cries. What a lad. Such eloquence. And I’m not sure about his psychologist, either. “Subverted living?” (sounds political to me, not psychological), and shouldn’t that be “voyeurism” and not “voyarism?” Oh well, The Blowhard is clearly unschooled in elementary spelling. He concludes by saying “the monitors wait for no one.” That sounds pretty impressive until you remember that The Blowhard monitors the activity in the Halifax public toilets.

: Cranky, would you mind getting back in line? I like my “followers” to march along in single file and preferably in step. Thank you.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

The whippets send their season’s greetings to all from from Montreal!

In particular, they thank Ivan for his Christmas wishes and, in addition, send their best to his colleagues in the stock room at the Spryfield Dollar Store.

Cheerio!

Good afternoon from Montreal!

Just passing through “Going hunting on Friday” to see if everything is in order and discovered four posts to which courtesy demands I reply.

: Jonnoman (Jan 21) has written a very flattering account of Montrealman’s writings on this thread for which he will be elevated up out of the ranks of The Underclass. Congratulations Jonnoman!

: Incredible as it may sound, Balls (Jan 22) has correctly pointed out two mistakes of mine on this thread – calling it “Gone fishing on Friday” instead of “Gone hunting on Friday.” Montrealman can offer no excuses Balls, and pleads for your understanding and compassion.

: Life Sucks ((Jan 25) suspiciously suggests that Montrealman uses the Thesaurus and/or the Internet to fuel his replies to Underclass attacks. Not so Sucks. Montrealman’s intellectual resources themselves are more than sufficient for the task. Sucks makes a “category mistake” in his reference to Montrealman’s posts containing “information.” As one ascends the epistemological ladder one finds that “information” is organized “data,” organized “information” is “knowledge” and organized “knowledge” is “understanding.” At the pinnacle, where of course Montrealman is located, organized “understanding” is “wisdom.” You do see the category mistake here, don’t you Sucks. However, the improvement in your writing skills has been noted. Keep up the good work.

: Finally Jonnoman is back (Jan 25) with an interesting human life story. However, he seems to be quite happy with the outcome, and Montrealman congratulates him on his two daughters. Montrealman (I’m getting to like this third-person reference, don’t you?) looks forward to his comments on “Is it a special club now?”

A pleasure asd always.

Cheerio!

Well, hello Paingirl and thank you for joining the campaign to block “Not a drop to drink” from passing “Going hunting on Friday” as No. #1 on the “Most Discussed” list.

Yes, I looked over Survivor’s bitch and found it fatuous as I did the comments and the movement to topple “Going hunting on Friday” from its rightful position. At least there was a serious discussion on “Hunting” as opposed to the superficial, contrived campaign on “Drop.” I mean, stuff like Jonnoman’s, “I had a pretty delicious breakfast sandwich this morning though thanks for asking.” How much more vapid can you get. Jonnoman should be ashamed. That kind of stuff belongs on Twitter, not Bitch.

Let’s stop these cretins!

Cheerio!

Hello again Paingirl.

Thanks for the “Super Whippet!” A striking portrayal of a majestic dog.

As a matter of fact I’ve just returned from our walk along the Lakeshore. Lovely day. Lily and Wynnie didn’t need their coats and looked very smart as they pranced along. (Harlowe, the old girl, doesn’t go on the full walk anymore, just around the block.) All the whippets send their love.

I think sprinf has finally arrived in Montreal. At last.

Cheerio!

Hello Again Paingirl!

Just after getting off the computer the penny dropped. The question was not, “What is the meaning of your picture?” or even, “Who is it a picture of?” but rather, “Is that a picture?” In other words, Montrealman’s mind is not used to operating at such a low level of obviousness – not meant as a criticism – but (I guess) it was meant to illustrate that one can indeed post a picture on this site.

You mention that I can use the whippets as my “avatar” (“the incarnation of a deity on earth!”) but unfortunately my ignorance persists. How does one post one’s avatar? If I had a choice I would go with the picture-link size since I find the avatars very small and would not do real justice to the whippets. But then, of course, better an avatar than nothing. So Montrealman awaits your instructions. Is there a possibility of Step 1, Step 2, and Step 3?

bbglover: Well, thanks for the clarification. I thought you were comparing the relative merits of Sucks and Montrealman but discover it was between “Going hunting” and “Not a drop to drink.” Yes, I agree the latter is vacuous and fatuous but, worse, I find the campaign to unhorse “Going hunting” with “Survivor” by piling up empty posts very mean-spirited. Speaking of “mean-spirited,” have you see “The Psycho’s” (aka Hugo Phurst’s) latest post? (#531) It’s about a monk going up the stairs of a temple and throwing a pebble over his shoulder. You’ve got to figure out how many steps there are in the temple or some such foolishness. What a wanker!

Cheerio!

THE PARASITE (1)

On the thread “Not a drop to drink” The Parasite (aka Hugo Phurst) has declared it openly. He wants to surpass “Going hunting on Friday” – not because it’s a superior thread but because, well, that’s the thread Montrealman is on and he envies Montrealman because he, The Parasite, doesn’t have a Ph.D. It has been eating at him for months.

The Parasite, of course, doesn’t have anything of substance to say. He has no mind. His style is simply empty ridicule. But Montrealman is not going to let The Parasite pile up his vacuous comments and top “Going hunting on Friday” as the “Most Discussed” thread. Montrealman is going to call The Parasite out on each of his comments. One after the other, so that the totals even out.

So here’s the first: “I think I’ll use this thrad (sic) to post all my replies to montrealman – get bent smeghead.” (The Parasite, March 27, 10:34AM)

Do you get his style? That’s The Parasite. Sorry to bother you with this, but The Parasite is not going to get away with it.

Cheerio!

PRETTY KITTY: BITCH’S SHREW-IN-RESIDENCE

In response to Montrealman’s probing question, “Well, what IS it like to have a cunt?” Pretty Kitty, Bitch’s Shrew-In-Residence, asserts: “I dunno, MM, what’s it like to have (be) a dick?”

It seems that The Shrew has abandoned her previous claim that she would “ignore” Motrealman but one supposes that, as with her shrewish comments about “Happily Married Girl,” she blows with the wind and follows the pack. But no matter. In her own view, The Shrew is always right, even when she’s wrong. (See my post on “Marriage Rules.”)

The Shrew, like the others on that thread, are unable to rise above their own personal views and to see the larger picture which, in that case, was the function of marriage in society. Shrewishly, The Shrew screams, “How dare the Happily Married Girl criticize my unfettered freedom to do as I want even if, taken as a guiding principle, it destroys our society?” Sadly, for The Shrew, her whim trumps everything else.

In addition to her unchecked egocentrism The Shrew lacks intelligence. If she grasped the meaning of my post she would have realized that the male and female are conceptual foreigners – the female’s cunt, designed for penetration, remains forever an enigma to the male for whom such penetration is an abomination. Therefore and conversely, Montrealman is not able to explain to The Shrew what it is like to have a dick for the same reason. The Shrew doesn’t have a dick. She has a cunt. As such, Montrealman and The Shrew must remain forever conceptual foreigners.

Finally and her claim to the contrary notwithstanding, The Shrew must have some idea of what it means for her to have a cunt since she dismissed “Happily Married Girl” with the assertion: “OP, you are a C-U-N-T.” (April 12, 12:24AM) The only conclusion one can draw is that, in spite of her shrewish assertion, The Shrew must have some idea of what it means for her to have (be) a cunt. One aspect of what it means, clearly, is that one is, or can be, a Shrew.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

GOOD MORNING SOD!

Yes, it’s true. I do have some puppy pictures (which I passed along to Sucks by e-mail attachment at his request) but I’m waiting for a better shot of Lily (Kennel Club name “Madeira”) as she never seems to hold still long enough for a decent photo. Maybe Sucks wants to pass them along to you so you can get an idea what they look like.

By the way, I was very impressed with your reply to my piece, “Pretty Kitty, the Bitch’s “Shrew-in-Residence.” But I was puzzled: When you you say that you “shook your head” was this to be understood simply as a neurological tic or was it intended to express some sort of thought?

My thinking was that it was on an intellectual par with The Shrew’s complaint that she was “bored.” Correct me if I’m wrong.

Cheerio!

THE ROOTS OF MISOGYNY

Readers will recall that in my theorizing about The Cunt I made reference to its ambivalent standing in the male psyche (see “The C-Word”). While, on the one hand, because of its appearance, The Cunt evokes extremely uncomfortable feelings of castration while, on the other, the male is hard-wired to yearn for contact with it. I believe that we can trace the roots of misogyny to the second of the two psychic conditions.

Have you ever wondered why, in certain cultures heavily saturated with fundamental religious belief women are forced to wear clothing ranging from a hat in church to being bound up in clothing which conceals any indication as to their gender? For many such clothing reflects their generally oppressed position which amounts, in effect, to cultural misogyny. Think of the absence of female priests or of “honour killings” and all the rest. But how does this relate to The Cunt?

My theory is this: Misogyny in such cultures does not arise directly as a hatred of women but rather as a consequence of the male yearning for The Cunt. In such cultures such yearning amounts, for the strictly religious observer, to having “lost his way,” of having been “led into temptation.” In other words, misogyny arises not from a simple hatred of women as such but rather from a hatred by the observant male for his own weakness, his own carnality. The male’s hatred is, in effect, directed at himself but, unfortunately for the female, expresses itself in her subjugation.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!