#anthropology
From the savagery which birthed civility;
From the meek,
I made strong.
I who go on.
I choose to pass-on,
To divide my belongings to those most deserving.
I who will work with others,
And in that way - do for them.
But never by force,
Through any medium & by any method
Of which that takes shape & form.
Jun 26, 2025
Jun 26, 2025 at 11:39 AM UTC
The Gordian Knot?
¹ The mesh of civilization.
To untie it is to understand it,
To know it.
This is to TIGHTEN it.
To cleave it is to try to conquer it;
It all comes undone,
Never to be re-strung.
You can be Prometheus,
Who was actually always celebrated,
Or you can be Aeneas -
The one who was really ChAINhed to the rock.
What matters is learning,
² All else is for naught.
Jun 24, 2025
Jun 24, 2025 at 1:05 PM UTC
Mixing quantum theory & theology
To drive deeper, points of philosophy
That otherwise are lost
If, today, they come across
As too simplistic
Mixing my life & history with antiquity
Because so much of what is happening are
Trapped in patterns and sequences, being repeated
And to give life more interest and meaning
Jan 17, 2024
Jan 17, 2024 at 8:50 PM UTC
In the beginning was the continuation of the species then came love.
In the beginning was the survival of the fittest then came altruism.
In the beginning was the pack then came narcissism.
In the beginning was the alpha male then came democracy.
In the beginning was the present then came the past and the future.
In the beginning was Keynisism then came neoliberalism and depression.
In the beginning was Lucy
Then came **** Sapiens Sapiens.
So
What next?
May 13, 2021
May 13, 2021 at 8:58 PM UTC
Join the tattooed urban tribes!
Share the Maoris’ drumming vibes.
Fire brand your love onto your heart.
Show that holy stigmata don't hurt.
Place *** at the apex.
Chisel deep into your flesh
What is cash and what is trash.
Set your body apart as a work of art.
Don’t be a naked human monkey.
Don't let anyone know you're funky.
Turn your taboos into tattoos.
But at night, take off your shoes
and put to sleep your tattoos.
Then sink under your skin
and meet yourself behind the scene.
Perhaps, you’ll see tattoo
as nothing new
(I’m afraid)
than the old skin trade.
Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 8:50 PM UTC
I believe in a past
that never existed.
Always willing to tell
others they should
be sad they missed it.
For what never lasts
can always be reimagined,
engineered ad-hock.
For me, the door to
the past is always wide open.
But, the one to the future
I cannot unlock.
so please don't give me the key
I don't wanna see beyond
what went before.
I believe in a moment
of imagined purity.
To close my eyes
on the acts of cruelty,
that lead to this modernity.
Only seeing the light that
concealed the night,
and the chains of *******
For the good,
that is all I see.
Because I need to see
that good in me.
so please don't give me the key
I don't wanna see beyond
what went before.
Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 6:22 PM UTC
I wake up whenever the big bright thing comes back, you call it a sun but I don’t know that fact. I don’t have a specific schedule, my mud hut is pretty basic but arguably influential. I don’t start my mornings with green eggs and ham, a freshly caught rabbit shall be breakfast for the fam.
Most of my day consists of finding food, whatever’s around, no particular mood. Everything I’ve learned I teach to my child, this uncivilized world can get pretty wild. After playing with junior I look for more food, I see a fellow ‘magnon “What’s up, my dude?” We forage for nuts and we forage for berries, leaves will do, but, you know, it varies.
When the cold goes away we’ll begin to farm, we’ll change the land what’s the harm? It’s almost dinner what could I make? There’s a lot of fish down in that lake. I crouch near the water and aim my harpoon, I sense a tasty supper sometime soon. Compared to the average human my senses are keen, lucky for you It’s 2016.
I’m stuck in the food chain, you shouldn’t complain. I had to outrun a bear today, I ran uphill and shouted, “HOORAY!” The hill had a spider, it couldn’t be wider. It bites my ankle, making me rankled. I’m growing pretty tired, possibly due to the bite I acquired.
My head gets heavy and my thoughts start to fade, I try to focus on the idea I last made. I look at the tiny dots in the night, contemplating my place and where I fit right. My species so young, our world so mysterious, what you have yet to learn should make you delirious.
I curl up on the floor and close my eyes, the story of my life forever fossilized. My tribe members bury me but I’m not the first, an underground sea of dead bodies is all that remains in the land we traversed.
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 4:54 AM UTC
Margaret Mead was full of it:
Boas’ unconstricted student
Half-baked matron lost at sea
Nurturing unnatural views
South-sea natives yanked her chain
Giggling maidens told her lies
On her bookish South-Sea cruise
Trying to flee her own neurosis
Frumpy methodology
Interjected Western bias
Greening grasses far from home
Theorizing Love, unfree
(Maslow’s ****** pyramid scheme
Fitting tomb for wrong assumptions)
Titillating dull patricians
High on **** kava-kava
Margaret Mead was full of it.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 1:30 PM UTC
jet-stream, that trails
jet-stream, clearly shown
to us as the mark, as the mark of the one
most awesome of gods, of the Creating Snail
gentle, and generative,
and
fertile
by: our one mind
below
all our reason, in light
of our eyes, of our ancients
in season
fruit, when found eaten
red hand, in jar dripping
we liken to something, reflux acid sweetened
sweet before swallow, as is every scroll's sum--memory
distant, and blind,
but
not dumb
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 10:38 AM UTC
I sat behind the barricade between the street, the bar, and the park overlooking that glistening pause-asteric of the water... my phone was clamped closed at zero battery life so I was alone with the city and the city was alone with me. as subtly as I could, I pulled my pipe from the bottom of my over-encumbered backpack satiated with 6 books (and they tell me knowledge is power, but they'll probably just drive me insane with question after question after question because the study of the world is one in which the brain falls victim to exponential growth 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256)
MY SKULL ISN'T BIG ENOUGH
I couldn't find my grinder, so I tore the bud by hand. More than half a nug was spent, pushed solid in place like a **** mound about to reach apocalyptic ****** thanks to the soft clitoral bonfire of a red Bic lighter.
blaze, set, and fade til you rise again
little stoner boy.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 2:45 PM UTC
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Jane of the Jungle (she’s all good)
charmed our world as Darwin’s daughter.
Anglican primates notwithstood,
her leaky theories held some water.
Streams of ngombe, sacred cows
were celebrated. What were these
to which the simian cosmos bows?
Irrelevant hypotheses.
Selecting great apes (naturally)
Miss Misanthrope researched, with love;
her theories, stated factually,
were hailed as truth from God above.
Hoping for reason, shadowing Man
the graybeards came for tempting fruit
unaware of their part in the plan:
to be used, like tools (but more hirsute).
Termites on a slender stalk
delighted hungry primate souls.
Her ripe bananas were the talk
of primatological controls.
peeling off; mzungu starkness
starred the Tanzanian night.
Chimping out, she lit the darkness
claiming scientific right.
Sweating out the Tarzan fever,
naming names while hugging apes
let us, laughing, love and leave her
to her anthropoid escapes.
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
You're really pretty strange.
The way others speak of you.
Without ever really knowing you,
Or having spent time in your presence.
Often they talk at you,
then listen to you speak.
But seem to hear words
different from the
ones you spoke.
Strange, quite strange.
Though, it seems to work well for you.
Whatever you take or say.
whoever you bruise;
metaphorically or literally.
Is transformed then by some act
of inner god, to acts which
sanctify the passion that
you inspire.
That passion which sparks bonds,
matrimony and procreation.
And yet it seems, as songs
has often said, you really are forever.
Even if you are not with
them forever.
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 6:07 PM UTC
A new species still being studied-
They have a compulsive obsession with mutilating their bodies
They yank out hairs in the place on their face made for expression
Daily they scrape off natural hairs from their limbs
And from under them, considering the act as simple hygiene practice
Some will even lay in a chamber of radiation to cook skin browner
And smear a smelly cream to make the skin look slimy shiny and 'sexy'
They scorch their head hair to change the texture for a day
And they draw on their faces with crayons made from wax and oils
They prioritize displaying of the body shape over movement
With their tight denim body coverings and waist clinchers
They wear coverings of their feet with a stick replacing the heel
To look physically attractive, despite the injuries and lesions
They're expected to keep a casing over their chest tissues in public
They hide their pheromones with alcohol and fake smell of plants
They keep private and hidden that they perform excretory acts
And they're never content with the meat casing they're trapped inside
Only (almost) satisfied looking at their reflection and seeing a lie
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 7:31 PM UTC
Here in poets' glory, we bask....
Not long ago, a bard did ask,
"When did poetry become ethnography?"
Verse is part of human anthropology,
Even part of Christianity,
Millions of people read the psalms,
Millions of folk read their Koran,
As part of their faith of Islam,
Poetry is a sweet and sour dish,
You can interpret as you wish,
Each verse is a snapshot of society,
Part of our cultural anthropology,
So, "When did poetry become ethnography?"
This muse has set us a task,
Good question to ask, good question to ask,
As here, in poets' glory, we bask.....
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
I’d been reading about boy insemination in the Sambia, Papau New Guinea. As a ritual rite of passage in this war-torn enclave, boys aged 8 to 10 were taken from their mothers to become men. This ritual included things a Westerner couldn’t fathom doing to a child - shoving sugar cane up their noses until they poured blood, forcing them to **** flutes to mimic ******** and ultimately, swallowing “male milk,” their sponsors’ ********* which according to tradition will rid them of their evil mothers’ poison and make them warriors.
Heavy ****
You know the response that happens in your body when you experience the luxury of your food begin too hot? You kind of breath in and out, rapidly, mouth open, until the food cools down? Sitting in the cafeteria, eating a bowl of vegetables and quinoa created in a vegan space certifying no cross-contamination, I found myself making this face. This stupid, ***** “oh no my mouth may feel weird for a day or two” reflex that immediately made me sick.
I decided to close my mouth. To lean into the fleeting, no-more-than-inconvenient pain instead of running from it.
I think it may have changed my life.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 5:23 PM UTC
Within each and every one of us
is a unique culture:
Ethnocentrism
reaches just as far inward
as it does outward:
Just because
academia
has imposed it's own
fascist, totalitarian, absolute
definitions
does not mean
that it has final say:
i postulate
such adacemic-fetishism
is merely a byproduct of
propaganda
pushed by Big Money
rather than
a genuine insitution
of respectable edification:
that is
i see it as
a mere appeal
to authority;
a well-known logical fallacy
to those who are in the know.
Tread lightly.
Modern Academics
seems to be
yet another
corrupt branch
of Business;
little more.
Academic achievement
is not equivocal
to intellectual worth:
a graduate's degree
is moreso
a status symbol
than it is
a credential
anymore.
'T'is vile idolatry
in lieu of
an individual's personal philosophy;
that's not to say it's
absolutely worthless,
but it may as well be
in today's job market
(unless it's a business degree!)
Then again,
that's just my opinion.
i guess i oughtta shut up
before Edu-nazis shut me down.
Oops, did i type that out loud?
I'm so sorry, you see,
vhat i meant to say vas:
Heil Stanford!
Heil Harvord!
Heil Berkley!
Heil vhat i am told zu heil!
Heil zhe publishing companies!
Heil zhe holders of student loans!
Heil egredious student debt
in lieu of philosophical discourse,
let alone progress!
Heil vhat i see on TV!
Heil *******
Heil alkohol!
Heil gasoline!
Do not qvestion zhe dogma;
go back zu sleep, you sheep!
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC
ants lean left more than right
it's true, it must be
i read it in Fox News
especially the red ones
that wear berets
like Che
the impertinent invertebrate
arsonist fire ants
who tend to get stepped on
by the man
who exterminates
according to anthropologists.
:)
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC
A steaming mug between my hands
Paper littered around me
I sit, forehead creased,
in my balcony.
I see the sky and the ground
and I'm simply floating in between.
Rolling a pen
between my fingers
watching the hills
they look greener than ever
I'd like to sleep
I'd like to read
But homework does
bind me.
This is procrastination,
level: extreme.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 8:32 AM UTC
An ounze of gold, found in a river
Assessed as a diamond, swallowed in an ocean
When we met in England.
All of Aisa is painted in platinum
Diamonds in Bankok, too sordid to be seen.
If you had rare sight, extinct 2900 BC
You may see race in the reflection of platisation
And the ability to chip it off is as harmonious as it gets.
If not superiority found you, and alimim forefathered you
To follow your blessed unique connection
Narcissus is not all around you, nor is any other God
What exists as greatness is only you.
In true great form should be existentialism
Instead you think you are untouchable
However ignorant I find it
When my mother bought me here as a piglet
She said I would always stand alone in stoicism.
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC