Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Ecce Homo

I've always liked the phrase testosterone sodden, suggesting as it does through its veiled disdain that the man-animal should aspire to more than being a mere lump of reproductive energy, and a darn damp one at that, one moist drop away from crumbling.

Just look at what comes up if you Google "testosterone sodden"?

No, it is at such transparent moments that I blush for my brothers. Life is a jewel of innumerable facets, a collection of silvery bells that play a multitude of tones, and I pity the fool who lives only to groan in the little death, solo or in concert.

All that stipulated, another Kaiser result just came back. When it comes to the Big T, I need no topping off.

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