.yeah, cultural darwinism, cultural relativism, moral relativism, and the inherent outcome of jurisprudence subjecitivity akin to the jussie smollett case... i once travelled to kenya, didn't grow an afro... hard a complerte hard-on for this ivory beauty, than looked like melting chocolate in the moonlight, and you know, it being africa, east africans are much lighter than west africans, and i spent an entire night, on a hammock, admiring the indian ocean battering the coast, crying... **** me, it was beautiful, i guess i needed no better outlet to justify my claim of reserving myself the chance to experience beauty; some "things", are just better experienced during the night, anti-voyeurism, i.e. when you're aware of other people being asleep. ivory beauty? what?! i wasn't looking for a ******* belgian chocolatier, i was looking at the pearls in her mouth... what?! that's suddenly "bad"? so there's no variant of, said language, to be subject to the expression of finding the crux of endearing?! no? none... no wonder i spent most of the time shying from the sun, emerging for a game of ping-pong, some coffee and cognac, while spending most of the time on the balcony, feeding macaques peanuts, while also admiring a pirate baboon's hemorrhoids double-*** pink, ***... no, not other humanoid comparisons, actual macaques, baboons, and ivory beauties smoking ****... i wish i stayed, and sang along to a verse from t.o.t.o., but the heat got to me, i don't even want to know how the colonial english managed to survive the heat... cognac, coffee, and looking for a shaded place; i met a Muhammad though... he wanted to show me his crocodile farm, i guessed he was a shoe guy, i declined... i only encountered the paranoia of being inclined to take up the proposition a year later... now it's just funny, compared with the current ******* intra ****? being placed back on the food-chain hierarchy, doesn't feel, that bad... i'd rather be eaten by some animal, than be forced into an eating-machine of a person's Minotaur's worth of ego, in a labyrinth of "thought" and social credentials, associated to a hierarchy / pyramid... "repenting" white guy... said the afro-american who would never visit africa, because of the whole fiasco... surrounded by a tourist-status, mentality; **** me, i went to Kenya, to play hide & seek roulette with the sun.

that god-awful moment when
you have just lit
a cigarette,
   but then some random thought
falls into your lap of a day's
   worth of thought...
thought, yeah: rarity verb,
shapeless void, when in the act,
of thinking:
absolutely zero
geometric explanation,
other than a: big 'ed....
and that only sticks for
a while, before you're subjected
to peruse further...
        why is it coincidental,
that, the current,
existential crisis,
   in the anglophonic-sphere
of "things",
is weighed down,
so heavily,
   with darwinian poetics?
   cultural-darwinism is
rife, in its format of expression...
this isn't individualistic
existential pointers to be
minded, akin to Kierkegaard,
Nietzsche, late-bloomers
akin to Sartre or Heidegger...
the former?
      quantum mechanics,
****** quest...
           lived with his mother,
had a partner ***
              ****...
and the rest of the jazz...
if asked to
  draw a straight line:
he'd digress into a mimic
of james joyce,
   literature, no paragraph:
but that was just
hte tip of the ice-berg...
no punctuation markers...
sober as a judge:
but ego "tripping"...
    back when existentialism
was sourced in individuals,
it attracted a frictive delay
on the en masse scale...
but now there's a hive
mentality,
            pushing against
any individualistic endeavours
that might stand-out,
since when was
continental existentialism,
compatible with darwinism?
ever?
     before i finish writing this,
that once lit,
but suddenly put-out
out cigarette will translate
itself into a slightly wet
tobacco fusion of my lips,
saliva, and a soaked filter...
and it will almost resemble
the first gulp of an english
ale, i.e. bitter...
  which i like...
after all... budweiser?
   honestly? not a decent beer,
where are the hops,
the bitterness?
   it must be due to the asian
influence, fermenting from
rice...
          beer?                  rice?
oh thank god i don't really
have that much to brag about...
being exposed to the cultural
undercurrents,
while satisfying myself
to the counter-culture
of the 1960s with the Beatniks...
my my,
    like wearing a mismatched
pair of socks...
but what is pervading...
is to source darwinism as the sole
poetics available,
the only explanation to counter
the rigidity of 20th century's
existentialism...
     how the "debate" has shifted,
it's no longer a question of
free will, but whether choice
is free...
     i drink,
   i don't know how to drive
a car, i know how to ride
a horse,
i don't gamble,
           i'm a parody uncle...
rather than a nagging aunt...
it's still bewildering,
   the current grip on the anglophone
culture...
  when the continental thinkers
were at their zenith,
in the 20th century,
everything was just plain dandy
over in england and england's
"elsewhere"...
    now? a catch-up game
for intellectuals, journalists
and all pseudo- and anti-
          of the respected fields...
i just don't think that darwinism
is a worthwhile estimate
of a crutch, a crux,
a walking stick...
        the almost deity status
of darwinism:
   as the sole explanatory
tour de force...
   all i'm seeing is:
not the dissatisfaction of
making an argument,
   rather:
    a dissatisfying argument
to begin with!
   reality escapism is not exactly
on the cards,
   what is on the cards,
is a lost sense of
   reasonableness,
    "oddly" enough,
   i too see the whole prospect
of a judgement of solomon,
the manic woman
throwing herself at the child
to be a lie,
    i would have went
for the woman pointing to
her stone cold heart,
in that gustave doré
etching...
            **** the baby,
given the modern climate
of abortion and
me thinking i just performed
a genocide, ******* into
toilet paper while doing
the no. 1, 2: and the subsequent 3
on the throne of thrones...
   this movement,
mgtow?
       it's an extension akin
to that manic street preachers
lyric: walking abortion(s)...
looks like 20th century
existentialsm wasn't ugly enough,
sure, sure, playing a waiting
game from the 19th century
instigators,
   now, oh hell,
   now we get to reap the benefits
of their angst!
but does darwinism help?
no... not really...
it just bypasses dialectics,
shortens the route for both
argument (thesis)
   and counter-argument (antithesis),
seemingly obvious,
but this blatant need make "revisions",
upon the canvas of
the natural order...
   was man, ever the justifiable
entanglement of nature,
standing before a mirror
of that nature,
    and not made certain
counters, at best,
justifying them with counterfeit?
        how will darwinism
suddenly extract an existential
solution to all the current
    existential qualms,
i will never know,
   but to me?
   darwinism is simply, nothing more,
than poetics for the up-coming
existentialists in the anglophone
world...
          the easily available...
also:  
     bother,
   why bother with opinions,
unshakeable facts,
when you have to be made
to be: excused?
             where's the dialectic?
rather: where's all that
requires there to be conversation,
i.e. reasonableness?
    right, right,
the madmen of a given society
are supposed to be
the reasonable ones,
while the children of sanity
play their little games,
until,
     there are no longer
any worthwhile games
                                          to play?
i tried, i failed,
time for another shot of bourbon,
or as i like to call it...
the perfumery apex of
translation -
   the whiff of scents,
       from a brothel.