HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!! Revisited

This "Georgia Gorilla" story has grown legs and become a true roller coaster ride. Many in the Bigfoot community are now declaring it a definitive hoax, and even Loren Coleman, whose giddiness was palpable through his waning skepticism last night, has gone from increasingly optimistic to extremely skeptical.

What's got people doubting the veracity of these two men from Georgia's claim is the fact that a) Tom Biscardi, the so-called Bigfoot researcher with a sketchy history in the community, has been the only researcher thus far allowed to examine the body and b) the body, especially the head, resembles a big foot costume one can purchase online. And until the circus abates and serious study is allowed to happen, this matter cannot be accepted as true based on photographic evidence alone.

Apparently, these guys have already sold the body for 10 mil. I can see now an angle, if there indeed is one. Tell everyone you have definitive proof that Bigfoot exists. Slowly leak out information to get people worked up. Let on that all will be revealed at a future date. Leak pictures of the body and get people even more worked up. And finally, when it's time to present the body for inspection, say that the party that bought the creature for 10 million bucks have decided not to show it publicly. This way, you get a ton of publicity and whether a hoax was perpetrated cannot be proved substantially. "Hey, we'd love to show you guys the body, but it's out of our hands now", they may say.

I'm still excited about this story, but I'm retaining my skepticism. As many people that rushed to brandish it the real deal, just as many, or more, have outright debunked the story. This matter still hasn't panned out. I won't be surprised in the least if it is revealed as a hoax, but I'm also willing to entertain the idea that what these two men from Georgia are saying is actually true.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!

This story has been escalating all night and I'm starting to go ape shit (no pun intended). It's beginning to really look like they got something here! This could still be a hoax, to be sure, but it's becoming less plausible. And if it is a hoax, well kudos to doing a masterful job at it. For all we know this could be some kind of PR campaign related to a movie, or something. But, I'm going to allow myself to pull away the veil of skepticism regarding this matter because frankly, I'm not sure I could do otherwise at this point. Below is from Loren's latest post at Cryptomundo.

I, Loren Coleman, author of The Field Guide to Bigfoot and Other Mystery Primates and Bigfoot! The True Story of Apes in America, was given an exclusive first look at the body, via an early email delivered photograph today. With the mistake at the Biscardi site, I have now been given full permission to post this here tonight.

Click on image for larger version.

Is it real? It certainly looks like the real deal, and with a surprising variety of features.

The hominoid (please note, not hominid) body, found in the Georgia woods, is now in a secure location, under armed guard, and set to be examined by a battery of academic scholars, skeptical scientists, Bigfoot researchers, and debunking writers.

Who is to say the discovery of Bigfoot won’t happen this way?

With offers of millions of dollars, just for the photographs of the body, Loren Coleman and Cryptomundo was given one copy of the first image to share with you, our readers today.

The body doesn’t look exactly like people thought it would, because the Patterson-Gimlin Bigfoot has been the model in our minds. However, this looks as if it is an actual apelike primate. Indeed, the gorilla-like facial features, the robust lack of canines, and the grinding surfaces shown in the teeth suggest a bulky vegetarian with a mixture of higher primate characteristics.

Will further tests and the proposed live capture of others prove beyond a doubt that Bigfoot is a new species? Stay tuned.

Impassioned lovers wrestle as one

The older I get, the less I feel I know myself. New layers are always added and I think that's why meditation is useful---it strips away the layers and let's the "self" breathe a bit. So why am I not meditating these days?

I saw creatures from nature during my last two visits at Shaws. A few days ago, a mouse crossed the aisle I was in and earlier tonight, a sparrow did it's Red Baron impression in the rafters above me. Fuck going to the zoo, I'll just keep going back to Shaws. Hope I run into an Ocelot one day.

I didn't end up going to the lecture in Boston tonight. Kind of relieved; I'm a little tuckered out. I hope Mara went.

Remember how I wrote about those guys from Georgia who claim to have a dead Sasquatch in their possession? Well, it looks like soon there will be an unveiling of their discovery to the press. I've been following this story and because these guys have appeared a little oily in their podcasts, I've kept my expectations low. But, holy shit! it's starting to look like this is the real deal. Loren Coleman, the Grand Poobah, of Cryptozoology, has just posted this:

I have just talked with Robert Barrows, R.M. Barrows, Inc., Advertising & Public Relations, Burlingame, California, who informed me the following release has been distributed to news agencies worldwide. It is now in the hands of the media at large, and they will be going with this story. The embargo on the news is lifted. Therefore, here it is for Cryptomundo readers.

I feel, in all honesty, this, indeed, may be the real deal, and I say this carefully after reviewing information that has been shared privately with me. I cannot say more yet. But people will be very surprised. ~ Loren Coleman

Check out Cryptomundo for more info.

I'm starting to get excited. I've been into Sasquatch since I was four years old. No kidding. I used to go on tracking expeditions out in the woods in my back yard. If Loren Coleman, one of the most level headed and intelligent authorities on the subject of Bigfoot, is looking like he's about to be on board with this, then it looks like I may soon be able to utter "I told you so" to the naysayers about me. And if it's a hoax, well, I won't believe in this primate any less, and in a way, I'll be glad. I'm not sure this species would benefit from being outed.


Alright, that's all I've got tonight.

Oh, the snow fell without a break, Buffalo died in the frozen fields you know

Talked with my sister this morning about going to Maine this weekend. My mother says it will be the last time they rent the house by the ocean because it's just too much hassle. Despite feeling a little antsy (to put it politely) when I'm cooped up in the place for more than a few days with my family, I truly hope she'll reconsider; we've been going there for years. It's a family institution, for crissakes!

My sister and I agreed that if my parents decide not to rent the place next year, I'll pick up the slack and we'll go in on it together. It's a little pricey, but given the location and what it represents--a location where the family can get together for more than two or three hours at a clip-- it will be money well spent. I have visions of turning the place into a haven of thieves and malcontents, whores and drug-addled journeymen--- a real den of iniquity. However, in the interest of shielding my sister and her family from the horrors such visions present, I'll try only to envision more family oriented pursuits, like Scrabble and reading on the deck, taking place there.

I'll be heading up on Saturday. They're only renting the house for a week this year and this weekend will be my only window of opportunity. I'll be missing out on Mark and Becky's party where a good group of my friends will surely be . It's too bad the two events will collide. Maybe I'll be able to work something out.

It's increasingly more and more difficult to maintain friendships. And by maintain, I mean being actively, or even semi-actively, involved with friends. It's just not feasible for anyone most of the time, and when it is, it seems even the simplest things, like going out for a cup of coffee, take a herculean effort to accomplish. I'm not complaining, just observing. It is a little lonelier these days, but there are always new experiences to look forward to. And with that, I will change topics and refrain from becoming maudlin.

I was thinking about a good friend last night and wondered what could have happened between us if things played out differently. A fanciful thought but as lame as an injured horse. Unless, at the conclusion of my reverie, I determined I'd take whatever steps necessary to make her mine, and then took action, what was the point?. Well, I guess not everything has to have a point, especially our thoughts, which can be all over the map and disjointed, but I think you know what I mean. She is something, though, and you know, I think we would have paired up nicely. Just a thought.
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Webster Tarpley's 9/11: Synthetic Terror arrived in the mail today. Good timing: I had just listened to a lecture given by this scholar last night and was eager to dive into the book. I read the preface already and will henceforth read from it sparingly. I'm still reading Bonehunters, which is a huge book, and Lonesome Dove, which is also huge. And there is also Watchmen to contend with. I'll try to finish at least one of them before I go headlong into Tarpley's tome. That's the plan, anyway, which knowing me, will likely change.

Off to White Hen for some supplies. Will relax tonight because tomorrow night I told Mara I'd attend a lecture in Boston given by a woman who converted to Judaism. Can't say I'm terribly amped about this, but you've got to be supportive, right?

Time, it's a crooked bow

Mara and I went to The Highland Kitchen for supper last. She loves this place and really wants me to love it. Sadly, I don't really love it. I'd been there with Spira a couple of weeks ago and the calamari I had was so spicy hot, my tongue burned hotter than the forges of Hell throughout the meal and a while after. And the bluefish cakes were tasty, but for nine bucks, they could have made the two they presented me larger than acorns.

Mara had talked this place up pretty heavily and I want to share her enthusiasm, but I just can't. This place likes it's food spicy! We had mussels for an app and there was so much curry in the broth, I had to look around to make sure we weren't in Calcutta (we weren't). Fortunately, there was some bread on the table to assuage the pain from the curry. I like curry, but I like it like a friend I don't always want to see but am usually happy when I do. After last night, I won't need to call on that friend for quite a while.

The HK had mercy on me and didn't load my cheeseburger with hot sauce or jalapeno peppers. I was grateful, to be sure. Mara had a salad for her entree and I noticed she kept waving her hand in front of her mouth.

"What fire are you attempting to put out?", I asked.

"Maybe it's just me, but I think they dosed the pecans in this salad with pepper."

"Let me try one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I've got to have it confirmed that this place is run by sadists."

I ate a pecan and she was right---it was coated with hot pepper. I resolved that if I eat there again--which I may, because they do have good food-- I'll order a pitcher of beer and extra bread before I eat. Maybe that's what they want me to do. I'll have to think on that.
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Before dinner, we hung out at the dog park by Union Square and watched a bunch of pooches chase each other, sniff asses, and in one case, fuck. I hate not having a dog. To me they're way more awesome than just about everything.
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Had a dream the other night that I was in Iceland visiting Brianna and her family. Luke Warm and some guy who vaguely reminded me of Vince Vaughn had come along for the ride. It was a really long dream and vivid. I don't really want to get into it, but here are some things I remember.

1. The air was thick and humid. In Iceland? Sure, why not.

2. They had a Shaws grocery store, but they spelled it Shws. A distaste for vowels, I guess.

3. At the dinner table, I asked Brianna's sister if tourists always bring up Sigor Ros and Bjork when they visit. She said they do.

4 I only stayed for the day.
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Watched some of the Olympics with Mara last night. We watched women's beach volleyball, swimming, and some gymnastics. I particularly enjoyed the volleyball. Mostly because I was watching tan, statuesque, scantily-clad women scamper about, but also because I genuinely enjoy the sport. Seriously.
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Feel like I have something more to add, but I can't seem to recall what that something is. Probably not very important. Think I'll dive into The Bonehunters and maybe read from Watchmen after that. Ciao, readers.

Black sails in the moonlight, black patch on your eye, you shiver your timbers, baby, and I'll shiver mine

I'm finally sick of the rain and its arbitrary, violent appearances. Almost every day this week, I've been caught in it, usually during a run, and I've come to the conclusion that Mother Nature, an entity I now believe exists, has a sophisticated sense of cruelty. Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this. I just want it to stop raining.

I was talking with Anne this morning at work about the Wilco t-shirt she was wearing. She told me they're her favorite band and has seen them live numerous times. It occurred to me that the last three women I've been interested in---Miss Anonymous, Mara, and Ann, who, I'd think about asking out if I were single---have been into Wilco. I found out Miss A. was a fan when she quoted some of their lyrics during an online chat. They were from a song I didn't recognize (may as well state for the record my own opinion of Wilco: I like them more than Cold Play and 35% less than the Flying Burrito Brothers. Whatever that means.) I found out Mara was a fan during breakfast one morning. She had her Ipod on shuffle and a song of theirs I didn't recognize came on.

So, is there something to this? Am I drawn to women who like Wilco? Maybe, but they're a pretty popular band and the chances that I'll meet people who enjoy them are fairly high. Now, if it was American Music Club, a band I like better, that these three were into, well, then we'd be on to something. I'd have to marry them.

Regular readers of mine know that, despite my deeply poetic and classy rendering of the English language, I'm occasionally--well, maybe more than occasionally--given to crassness and vulgarity. I won't apologize for this-- I grew up on the brutal and unforgiving streets of Chelmsford and that was the way we talked. But, I do understand that my forays into the low speech may be disturbing to those of you who have lived privileged and sheltered existences. And I also understand that when I bring it to you loose and raw, you get turned on a bit, too. I'm not your therapist, so I'm not going to get into all that. What I'd like to do is dispense with the formality and introduce a new segment that may be vulgar and crass called "Fuck You". It will probably never see the light of day after this, but who knows-- maybe it'll stick. Here goes.

FUCK YOU to the girl who almost slammed into me as I was crossing Willow st. today. I was halfway across when she turned onto the road hauling ass in her hulking SUV . She had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting me. She missed by a foot. I pointed at the crosswalk to let her know it was there in case she didn't see it, shook my head in disgust, and continued walking. She sat there in the middle of the road for about another minute. I kept looking back wondering what her fucking problem was.

FUCK YOU to those tiny, animated adds that appear on the screen while you're watching a show on TV. I guess, even though there are more now than ever, we need more commercials. Another reason not to watch TV.

FUCK YOU to the primary reason not to watch TV: 97% of it appeals to the lowest, and I mean lowest, common denominator. It takes me about twenty minutes to find something that even remotely stimulates my brain. And that's coming from someone who loves The Beverly Hillbillies and Hogan's Heroes. If I were the commander of an Alien fleet approaching Earth I would gladly, and with the fullest confidence, give the orders to annihilate. "We're doing the Universe a favor by obliterating this planet of stupid, senseless worms", I'd say. And then, once the act was done, I'd say "Let's go to my quarters, slip into the hot tub, and lose ourselves in erotic pleasures" to my sexy assistant Veronica.

FUCK YOU to this post. I'm out of here, bitches.

So put a quarter in your ass cuz you played yourself

So Cloverfield was a lot better than I hoped it would be. And my expectations weren't that low, either. The film had all the markings of a "Hollywood" film, one that was by the numbers from start to finish. Instead, though it was accessible, Cloverfield stayed true to itself and didn't pull any punches. Almost every thing about the movie I found impressive. A truly entertaining experience.

Short post tonight. I've got stuff to do and time's a wasting. Caught this video tonight that I'll share with you. Seems highly unlikely this one is faked, unless everyone was in on it. Possible, but not probable. Reminded me of the scene in Close Encounters of The Third Kind when everyone's gathered on the hilltop to witness the UFO's.