northanger (northanger) wrote,
northanger
northanger

Shit is the Clay of Life

Shit is the Clay of Life

It is ubiquitous, is found in every form of life and is inescapable. It is the result of the act of defecation, binds all animals, from humans to slugs, even to politicians. We are all brethren through that most singular movement (even if the select few of us can be distinguished by the superior excremeditation rather than the banal bowel movements practiced by the rest of the population). The metaphoric regard to that which gives life, is life and becomes life, is perhaps one of the few truly remarkable gifts given by that malaise of mankind, western religion. The adage, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust," is a polite euphemism for what should be screamingly clear: our shit, despicable as it may seem, is whence we spring (to choose to be shit is up to each individual) and where we all go. The evolutionary process, not unlike that which prompted early humanoids to evolve opposable thumbs, may well have been the same mechanism that was guided by our subconscious to symbolize sexually the very cycle of life. Like its sister organs -- the next door neighbors that provide the pathways for popping out offspring -- the anus has its own sensuous ends which no threat of cretinous crusade may effectively curb. What goes in tasting good comes out pleasurably, too, for that anal tongue, the prostrate (in men) and proximity to the G-spot (in women) lets us love our shit in no way nicely discoursed in public. To think that some measly rules railing against sodomy may serve any need other than a good laugh, especially in the wake of Monica Gate (whose anal-oral copulation with the president of the United States took place mere years after the 1992 repeal of the Washington, D.C law that forbade sexual congress in any way other than vaginal intercourse) exhibits more of a decline in common sense than moral impropriety. It may well be that the morning wood is the result of a temporarily backed-up rectum, the pressure of the night's yet-to-be-expunged excrement bringing the penis to life by way of the prostate and its bundle of erotic nerves. Located at the base of the penis, it is stimulated by the ramming motion of intercourse. The shortcut through the sphincter, however, lends one the ability to apply direct pleasure on the prostate -- much like a good shit. The prostrate has much in common with the female's G-spot: they each originate from the very same embryonic tissue, are both situated in the same basic area and, most importantly, are best reached by going in through the excrementally recognized "back door." Yes, their lord's movements are mysterious in its ways and yet the very servants are forever attempting to attenuate "his" methods. {paper trail}

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