But as time went on, Michelle kept telling me these weird stories that were just not true and I began to doubt her as a person. ... Unfortunately, she had no real sense of reality and would just make stuff-up and acted like a compulsive liar. ... She was always a confident person who was naturally very pretty but after she got her boobs done she changed and really started to work her body more. ... But the more I stayed with her I just could not handle the drama and all the lies and bullshit stories she was telling me.
On the Seronera plain, a kill site had its own organization which was quite predictable, and in a way was almost stately. The biggest predators, lions or hyenas, were closest to the carcass, feeding with their young. Farther out, waiting their turn, were the vultures and marabou storks, and still farther out, the jackals and other small scavengers circled warily. After the big predators finished, the smaller animals moved in. Different animals ate different parts of the bodies: the hyenas and vultures ate bones; the jackals nibbled the carcass clean. This was the pattern at any kill, and as a result there was very little squabbling or fighting around the food.
But here, she saw pandemonium—a feeding frenzy. The fallen animal was thickly covered with striped predators, all furiously ripping the flesh of the carcass, with frequent pauses to snarl and fight with each other. Their fights were openly vicious—one predator bit the adjacent animal, inflicting a deep flank wound. Immediately, several other predators snapped at the same animal, which limped away, hissing and bleeding, badly wounded. Once at the periphery, the wounded animal retaliated by biting the tail of another creature, again causing a serious would.
A young juvenile, about half the size of the others, kept pushing forward, trying to get at a bit of the carcass, but the adults did not make room for it. Instead, they snarled and snapped in fury. The youngster was frequently obliged to hop back nimbly, keeping its distance from the razor-sharp fangs of the grownups. Harding saw no infants at all. This was a society of vicious adults.
As she watched the big predators, their heads and bodies smeared in blood, she noticed the crisscross pattern of healed scars on their flanks and necks. These were obviously quick, intelligent animals, yet they fought continually. Was that the way their social organization had evolved? If so, it was a rare event.
Animals of many species fought for food, territory, and sex, but these fights most often involved display and ritual aggression; serious injury seldom occurred. There were exceptions, of course. When male hippos fought to take over a harem, they often severely wounded other males. But in any case, nothing matched what she saw now.
As she watched, the wounded animal at the edge of the kill slunk forward and bit another adult, which snarled and leapt at it, slashing with its long toe-claw. In a flash, the injured predator was eviscerated, coils of pale intestine slipping out through a wide gash. The animal fell howling to the ground, and immediately three adults turned away from the kill and jumped onto its newly fallen body, and began to tear the animal’s flesh with rapacious intensity.
Harding closed her eyes, and turned away. This was a different world, and one she did not understand at all. In a daze, she headed back down the hill, moving quietly, carefully away from the kill.
“The Lost World”
A planet of evil clowns
Where sex isn’t love or fun
Sex is a feeding frenzy
Blood and spit and other things
Smearing the clown wide-eye smiles
Strange patterns on strange tattoos
Endless new scars on old scars
This is the computer age
A text window to the soul
A word monster making words
A flash mob of network friends
A perfectly formed marble
A giant chair in the desert
A planet of evil clowns
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ancient Cities Of The Moon
Post-Christian Party Talk
The Word Monster
Halloween On An Inclined Plane
Big Chair And Three Women: (1) Three Women
Big Chair And Three Women: (2) Big Chair
That Third Evil Clown