the inner twelve year old

Watching the Nat Geo channel on the net -- or was it (the dreadful) Discovery? -- and they were excavating mummies of cats, hundreds of them; they say there's thousands. The show alleges that people sacrificed them to the gods. Broke their necks, murdered them. This was very late, the old Egypt long gone, Alex the Great time or so. The literal took over, and I guess that's the point. Consciousness, like an archon who thought it was the only god.

Seems we lost our Mother ( see The Alphabet Versus the Goddess: The Conflict Between Word and Image by Leonard Shlain; Thom's review here: Who killed the goddess? ) along the way. Wandered along the vast black and white sawdust strewn midway of The Magic Land of Either-or. 2000-some years of wandering, sadly dispossessed of cat-wisdom. Ate alot of awful candy apples and watched alot of freak shows. Now she takes us in hand. Churns up long forgotten musings.

My buddy Dave and I used to make one of my manx cats fly. Alice was her name. She would love to be held, hands beneath her dear sets of splayed legs, relaxing (or bored, or just curious) as we took her on an imaginary (and gentle) rollercoaster all over the apartment. I suppose it answered some of her questions. What was in that huge dish suspended from the ceiling? The top book shelf where she couldn't fit? And -ah! There, on top of the big white box! THAT'S where they hide the catnip! We joked about making a film (he was at NYU grad school in film, later graduating to make ~tuna! chicken! liver!~ cat food cans dance on television... ) of Flying Alice. I think we were probably (very likely) fully loaded. We saw Alice flying all over DC, flying (one of us making her fly of course) -- down to the White House with the anti-war picketers and other bits that ended with an inverted "V" of CIA agents in trench coats,hats, sunglasses, in front of the Wash Monument -- and as Alice flies into their midst, they all open their coats (voila!) and flash wee American flags!

My inner twelve-year-old still likes the image.

Just a joke that got out of hand one afternoon.