Thursday, May 18, 2017

Next Book: Primeval Woods & Primordial Stones

A crocodile thrashes beneath me. The squawking and dripping of the rainforest where Mel Gibson filmed Apocalypto and Sean Connery filmed Medicine Man surround three sides of my cozy wood cabin that overhangs a lily-choked shore and overlooks a mist-shrouded isle broadcasting monkey chatter across the glassy lake. It’s Christmas in the jungle. The lush fertility extends to a curvaceous young form peacefully dozing under the blanket beside me and deeply inhaling from the cool oxygenated air. I recall a perfect day.

We arrived at Nanciyaga ecological reserve with small backpacks and big expectations on a lazy noontime boat from Catemaco. Earth, wind, water, and fire were our only plans. Volcanic ash mud was massaged onto every inch of our skin by a friendly staff member then dried into grey body masks by a warm afternoon breeze. We looked and felt like tribal warriors. Down a stone path draped with vines and shimmering with butterflies, a palm frond roof and bamboo pole walls enclosed a mineral-spring-fed turquoise pool, where we swam off all clay, all tension, and all inhibition.

Darkness fell and dinner called. A blazing hearth near the table warmed our chilly bones and baked our juicy pizza, under a starry sky amidst a cricket symphony. We retired to our porch hammock. I shared a fine cigar (gifted to me by local plantation owner Douglas Redmond) with the fine lady, who then shared even finer things with me. What a delicious memory. Were I not so hot blooded, I’d feel an affinity with the croc devouring and savoring flesh beneath the floorboards. Sleep comes easy.

Take a stroll at daybreak. Along the creaky dock littered with kayaks, across the bouncy bridge spanning a jade-hued stream, past an orange and lime tinted iguana with spiny dinosaur crests, then around the steam bath dome spewing vapor from a door shaped like the fanged jaws of the Mesoamerican feathered serpent deity. I sit down to reflect. Olmec and Maya rock sculptures dot the cloud forest encircling me and seem to await the results of my spiritual query.

How did this citified gringo rediscover his authentic primal self? How did he stumble upon an abundant life of sensual satisfaction and meaningful contribution so many seek but so few ever find? How can he share said epiphany with as many as possible? In the Mexican Garden of Eden, to the fallen American you’re readin’, the answer came. 

My next book: Primeval Woods & Primordial Stones will chronicle a sacred badass road trip through the mystic Maya forests of Mesoamerica, straddling a fine well-built motorcycle and a fine well-built Latina. This will be both a travel book and a life guide, so read well … then journey well. Stay tuned for further updates about this forthcoming masterwork.

Monday, May 8, 2017

Eastern and Western Genital Mutilators

Deep within a cave on a remote mountain sits a bushy-bearded Asian jihadist who shares the outlook of a bushy-underarmed American feminist ensconced within the safe space of a modern university. Both are proud genital mutilation advocates. Seeming a world apart, they nevertheless carry the same sacred fire from down below, with the road to hell paved by their culturally-approved "good" intentions. Let me explain why all moral folks must reject such patriarchs and matriarchs. This is not for the squeamish.

Friday, April 21, 2017

How to Construct a Contented Life

My smug happiness annoys some people. That's fair. Their neurotic misery sometimes annoys me. Newsflash: I'm not going to give up my inappropriately bubbly bliss to make whiners more comfortable. Not gonna happen. Yet, I do feel a moral obligation to reveal those secrets of contentment I unintentionally and undeservedly stumbled upon. Here goes.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Rattlesnake Musings and Manta Ray Moments

After I bent over and lifted a dusty rock, a fat coiled rattlesnake glared and hissed within easy striking distance of my face. The day could've easily been my last. I was a two-mile desert walk from the highway, then a thirty-minute hitched ride from a Mexican doctor, whose Spanish questions I could barely comprehend and answer on a good day without venom surging thru my veins. I froze in terror. Then I backed my head and torso away at the speed of tree growth, over the longest meter I've ever crossed, while the slit eyes and forked tongue bobbed menacingly.

Monday, March 13, 2017

Kong Is Still The King

Kong: Skull Island allows cinema chair travelers to escape the urban jungle for that more authentic kind. A cliche storyline of explorers venturing deep onto an uncharted island doesn't rain on the fun of this neo-primal rainforest experience. The casting of Samuel L. Jackson, Tom Hiddleston, Brie Larson, Tian Jing, and John Goodman offers a pleasurable balance of both action and characters.

Monday, March 6, 2017

I Officially Declare Myself A Woman

In my long and masculine life, I never considered identifying as a woman - until now. Yet, I'm sure of my decision. In fact, I wish this option had existed in the oppressive days of my youth. Let me explain. If I had been given a chance to live as a chick in high school, I wouldn't have begged cheerleaders to give me the time of day. In the locker room, I'd simply have asked them to pass me the soap. Plus, with me in the shower, those budding babes wouldn't have had to wonder about where they could hang the towels.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Don't Cover Up Marine Le Pen

A Muslim leader refuses to meet with French politico Marine Le Pen unless she wears a headscarf. A Mormon friend of mine won't dine with people who order beer. Some gays demand Catholic caterers plan their wedding. Many feminists insist Protestant taxpayers must fund their abortion.

In a globalized world, tribes and faiths must intermingle. For everyone to have the right to live their moral convictions, nobody can have the right to make others do so. I prefer that all women who meet with me wear the neckline shown on young Le Pen in this photo.

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Hollywood's Great Wall and Great Gall

Matt Damon's latest film offers both epic ambition and epic hypocrisy. This movie seeks global profit by teasing the Asian market with local lore (China's wall) and an American audience with local controversy (Trump's wall). Yet, it still condemns profit seeking. To do this, it descends into politically-correct racism (Asians are loving collectivists while Europeans are greedy individualists) and even some contradictory old-school racism (said utopic society still can't defend itself without the brilliance, courage, and technology of white savior Damon). Plus, all this is from critically respected director Zhang Yimou.

Friday, January 27, 2017

Illegal Migration Is NOT Compassion

Lovely eight-year-old Neftaly had no idea she’d been delivered into the hands of her rapist by what American politicians call a more compassionate immigration policy. It wouldn’t have mattered much to her. Yet, Neftaly’s story is not unusual in Mexico, so it should matter a lot to Americans who support such policy. She was orphaned at age five, then various distant relatives grudgingly agreed to take her in - as long as she washed the dishes. She became more accustomed to fear and rejection than love. When an uncle she’d never met showed her a bedroom and told her to undress for bed, she tried once again to muster more hope than fear. Sadly, it would be many years after that night before she looked at the world with trust and hope again.