My cat’s cousin many millennia removed
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
Gerard Van der Leun
Lay down these words
Before your mind like rocks.
placed solid, by hands
In choice of place, set
Before the body of the mind
in space and time:
Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall
riprap of things:
Cobble of milky way.
straying planets,
These poems, people,
lost ponies with
Dragging saddles –
and rocky sure-foot trails.
The worlds like an endless
four-dimensional
Game of Go.
ants and pebbles
In the thin loam, each rock a word
a creek-washed stone
Granite: ingrained
with torment of fire and weight
Crystal and sediment linked hot
all change, in thoughts,
As well as things.
Gary Snyder
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
— BY THEODORE ROETHKE
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
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There is a reason why black cats like the elegant Miss Olive are called house panthers by their humans, as this slow-mo photography illustrates:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rd2kSjLAnPU&ab_channel=AneDijitak
Ever watch a domestic cat stalk something?
Make no mistake.
They are calculating, cold blooded killers.
He looks just like my ol’ kitty, The Skinamalink, right down to those emerald eyeballs.
JWM
My brother plays host to a feral cat that showed up at his farm 8-10 years ago. He and his girl friend can seemingly hold her for a few seconds and she’ll permit me to pet her but will usually give me a gentle nip to tell me to not get too friendly. As far as cats go, I like the old girl.
But Ghost is right. This thing is a killer. She’s has constant access to food and water and she eats it without hesitation but she also kills and drags home anything she can find. Large field rats with heads removed, wild birds and snakes of every description and she takes great pride in hauling in her latest varmint cadaver and placing it in front of my brother’s truck so that he can see her latest victim.
We host Miss Olive’s brother, a feral-born house cat who does not understand why I cannot see him crouched at the bottom of the stairs in darkness.
Gerard, I will have to send you the model of wire brush that delivers him into a perfect statue, standing on my lap. He sounds like a dove, cooing.
@Jack: This thing is a killer.
I have always believed that the cat who brings home a series of small dead creatures—despite being a well-fed cat—is showing gratitude. The cat wants you to know that he/she is on the job, doing the work to keep you safe, and is thanking you for providing good food, a safe place to sleep, and trustworthy affection.
In Mel Gibson’s wonderful film “Apcolypto” the black cat, the Jaguar, plays a pivotal role.
It’s now free if you’re on Amazon Prime. I bought it shortly after it went to DVD. Don’t know if it’s on Blu-Ray or not. It’s well worth watching.
Thank, Fuel. I have been meaning to watch Apocalypto for years.
I’ve spent a long lifetime going into the woods and the mountains, often alone. I have seen tracks, but I’ll be dipped if I’ve ever seen a wild cat in the USA. As my late father in law once said, “Okay, you’ve not seen them, but they’ve seen you!”
However…and this is a lifetime achievement, as the above paragraph will indicate…I did see a black panther in the wild! Once, in Costa Rica, and he was about 400 yards away. Certainly a thrill!
Casey,
Of all my time in the field I have seen a mountain lion only once. In 2016, I was near Pritchett CO while hunting Merriam wild turkey. I was armed with an old Winchester Model 43 chambered in .22 Hornet. I suddenly realized that I was completely outgunned.
Snakepit, I am envious of you your Model 43; a nice weapon and a keeper.
There was a turkey hunter here in the recent past who was attacked by a mountain lion; for those who don’t know, turkey hunters are like ghosts in the field, by design, and stumble onto dangerous game because of this. After that, we all started carrying large sidearms as personal protection. It also doesn’t hurt to be able to defend from a take-away of your shotgun, which is a scenario that can happen.
I also envy your big cat sighting.
Well now. 40 years, and thousands of hours out in the sticks in southwest Florida, and I only saw wild assed alligators once. And yes, they seen me first, for their bolting for the water is what caught my eye. Neither have I seen a rattlesnake in the wild. Plenty of corals, black mocs, etc. But no rattlers.
Last week I bought a brand new in the box Ruger 10/22 for the very first time. It’s the stripped down version cause I intend to make it “mine” in all ways. Currently the metal is black and the polymer stock is a hideous gray but that stuff will change. I also bought a 4-16×40 scope for it, mounted it, and will take it to the range today for sighting in. In the next few months this machine will be tricked out and I expect to put all25 of em in the same hole at 100 yds. Oh yeah, the Ruger is “off the books”. Bought privately from a guy that learned the hard way that you don’t buy a gun for a young nephew without first securing the permission of the parents. I got it for $220 cash. Had been looking for one for months but none were available from any sources.
Ghost, I have twice kilt wounded deer with .222. Well, okay, the game man (say that real fast) pulled the trigger the second time but it was my #350 Muley trophy buck. His sheriff Ruger 10/22 sank round after round after round into the behemoth, at point blank range. No effect. The unfortunate beast just looked at us (his spine was severed already) and pretty much his look said, “what else ya got?”
I’m very sorry to the group for the ugly story. I won’t convert any non-hunters with it, I’m certain. If you need a man standing on the wall, it isn’t going to be a Metro Sexual man doing it. I’m trying to tell you the killing power of your new Ruger is limited. It required 10 rounds, and finally I let him place one in my soon-to-be mounted head. The first deer I did this for also needed 1o rounds. When they ask that rhetorical question about how many rounds do you need in a magazine to kill a deer, my answer is 10, and I fukn know that by experience.
Murder for a mount? Please. We ate the meat at the start of the Corona Virus lockdown when WalMart had totally empty meat shelves. His shoulder mount looks imposing above my desk, too. 5×5. See? That makes 10, which is the number of .222 rounds necessary for a mammal over #200. Be advised.
My social media score just guttered, I’m sure. Maybe after this is read by The Ghost, the kind host can poooft it magically.
All they “think” about is how to get that perfect neck bite that separates the spine.
All the while, not getting a life debilitating injury in the process.
I may need to remind people of 2 things. The only thing smaller than .22 in the ghost arsenal is a Beretta BB pistol at .177. The other thing is that when a soldier kills an enemy soldier the enemy soldier soldiers on perhaps to kill you another day. But if the soldier severely injures an enemy soldier than one or more other enemy soldiers must be used to take care of the injured one. The net loss can be substantial. One more thing. A soldier shot through the eye may not die but he will never be a soldier again. Regardless of gun size shot placement is paramount.