Today is the last day of the season. Yes, The Season.

So if you think I'm going to sit in front of a darn computer rather than stalk Bambi in the thick of the woods, you, my friend, have another thing coming.

Still, here's an anecdote for you, as I'd rather not let you leave this page empty-handed (or headed, as it were).

See this year, I've been lucky to be invited to join quite a few different (big game) hunting parties, on quite a few different territories, and there's one thing I've seen in each and every one of them.

When comes the time, early in the morning, to assign their posts to the shooters (as opposed to the trackers. Yeah, we hunt in pack here), there's always someone who says he'll keep his place (if he's a regular) "at the oak", or who is offered (if he is a guest) the courtesy to be positioned "at the oak", because "there's a good trail over there".



Always. On every territory I've been to.

Now imagine that you're standing in the middle of some Western European forest that can be as large as several hundreds of hectares¹, and as Western European forests go, it's basically filled with bloody oaks. Every other tree is an oak, and the ground, being Autumn and Winter, is literally covered with oak leaves. Yet no matter where you are and which forest it is, there is only one oak.

The oak. The one near the good trail.

Oh, and here's a tip for the amateurs — to save them the embarrassment:

You-shall-never, under any circumstance, ask:

"Which oak?"

Sometimes I don't blog because I really didn't do nuffin', and other times I did had something done but did not get around posting it.

Which is a damn shame, I give you that.

For instance, that parody of a book cover taking a cue from the last Meltdown Mahmoud and mocking the pretentions to cultural lecturing by one Hasan Rahimpur Azghadi¹ — whom I shall from now on refer to as just HRA! — on the Sexual Habits of the Westerners² that sounds more like an exercise in projection during a public psychotherapy session on national Iranian TV than any sort of serious study of the inventive ways we devise to use our organs for optimal sensorial gratification over here in the Hot Wild West, was put together sometime last September, and never posted before³.

Damn shame because I had quite a laugh at it, and if there is one thing that is better than a good laugh, it's a good laugh shared with good friends⁴, even those with whom you do not make a distributed and inventive use of your — other — organs⁵ (or not that frequently).

The original clip of HRA! Harbinger of the Downfall of the West Through Sexual Perverszion⁶ kindly provided by the essential Memri, that digital window on the world and mind of the enemy, is available here.

For those of you who just had a meal and wince at the thought of watching that unshaved and sweaty Iranian Supreme Council pervert indulging some of the worst fantasies that can come out of the mind of a repressed Islamic bigot in front of other sexual offenders in turban, here's a bit of transcript — with a bit of fisking⁷ thrown in it:

Hasan Rahimpur Azghadi: "[The Westerners] have transgressed all moral boundaries, and that is why their family unit has collapsed. When modesty and chastity are abandoned, soon enough the family falls apart. The husband and wife are no longer satisfied with one another, and they begin having relations with other men and women."

You mean the first level of sexual perversion would be in fact… Polygamy? That is indeed disgusting, even for us Westerners.

In fact, particularly for us Westerners, come to think of it.

"After a while, they start thinking that since they have already experienced this, it is time to try homosexuality."

You know, this tells a lot more about HRA! than is does about you (possibly) and me (definitely). The man obviously knows little about Mankind or has personal issues and uncertainties when it comes to his own orientation.

Sorry HRA! but for any heterosexual, more sex simply means more of the other sex.

And more often if possible, thank you.

"Then, they think this is old-fashioned, and they turn to animals."

Mhmm… No, it just doesn't work like that. For instance, as a male heterosexual I would submit that any Dude old enough to remember Mathilda May as the stark-naked space vampire⁸ raising havoc with and setting fire to reasonably convincing models of London, England in Tobe Hooper's 1985 Lifeforce⁹, will not get tired of The Woman's shape and forms anytime soon.

I know she's French, and therefore potentially shaggier¹⁰ than the females from other cultures, but still: no goat can stand a chance.

"After a while, when they get bored with this, they turn to small children."

I honestly don't know what's worse with this statement. Therefore, in no specific order:

• Children come after animals in HRA!'s sick hierarchy. I guess that sheds some light on the rationale behind Iran's use of her own children, by the thousands, on suicidal missions to clear the frontline of Iraqi mines during their war with Saddam (about the time when we Westerners were watching Lifeforce by the way).
• The guy lives and breathe a religious ideology (Islam) whose one and only prophet (Muhammad) married and banged¹¹ a pre-teen girl (Aisha, 9 years old) while he was nearly 60, setting an abject example but unquestioned role-model that is still regarded as valid among his followers to this day — an one, incidentally, that is met with extreme repulsion by those of us Westerners who still have a hold on their moral compass.

And Hasan Rahimpur Azghadi of the Iranian Supreme Council for the Cultural Revolution has the guts to come and call us child molesters?

Pedophiles can be found in every culture, but we in the West hold that they are the lowest of the low and must be prosecuted to the full extent of the law — though only when the Police can get them before we do. Otherwise, Shoot, Shovel and Shut-Up is a perfectly acceptable alternative — but certainly not worshipped as our culture's leading light — like You-Know-Who (salallahu alayhi wasalaam).

Plus I bet one doesn't get called "camel humper" and "goat f*cker" without at least some cultural trait offering a basis for the caricature of racial slur.

Meaning that I know why I can be called a "Frog" even if I don't eat frogs' legs that often.

Get my drift HRA!?