Ooze Nest

Cosmic Ooze, dog's breakfast, Oogah and Oorsis cracked the egg, whipped it up chaotically into a universe, complete with milky way, black holes, solar system, planet earth, the whole shah-bang. This has nothing to do with science, or the beginning of beginning-less time or any other attempt to offer a rational explanation of what may or may not have happened.

It all started, as I mentioned in an earlier post, when Ooo Man Harry Dick rose up the Holy Mound just outside the Ooo community in the Cha Region of the Poh Valley, a village located inside an air-conditioned glass dome in the Sahara Desert, inhabited by a group of survivors preparing for the Apocalypse. Some Ooo claimed World War Three had already taken place. In fact, the Ooo people shamelessly admitted responsibility for the nuclear catastrophe which wiped out two-thirds of the world population. In this way, the powerful Ooo Administrators hoped to eliminate poverty and unemployment. Unfortunately for them, it didn't work out as planned.

The chaotic breakfast, swirling in space, faster than a black hole could swallow a sneeze, appealed to no one. The whole point of preparing breakfast is to find someone willing to eat it, or to eat it oneself. In order to be eaten, the breakfast has to look and taste OK. The breakfast in the above picture contained too much over-ripe plum, abandoned too long in the back of the refrigerator, but too good to waste. Lohbado hoped the beautiful color and soft moist texture would compensate for the slightly acrid, vinegary taste. At one point, he even poured peppery red wine, again, slightly sour, half gone to vinegar, but edible to the devoted connoisseur of unique flavors, on to the Ooze Nest.

While eating breakfast, Lohbado realized, to his horror, that it was not a plum. The purple substance was actually the recently removed swollen right brain of an Ooo, who died after falling and striking his head sharply on a rock. Plum juiced leaked out his ears and nose. The cook, Poh Brown, ran over, pulled apart the cracked skull and grabbed the right hemisphere of the brain as it spilled like jellied salad out of a mold. The cook insisted that through the act of cannibalism, by eating the brain, they would bridge the gap between sensuous immediacy and conscious understanding. Poh Brown went into a long diatribe of Lohbado dialectics, to explain how not eating the brain was the same as eating it, in other words, the self-same thing was the same as the thing itself. So they should, if necessary, not breathe, while spooning the soft breakfast into the mouth.

Very little chewing was required. It slipped down the throat like raw oysters.

Lohbado confessed to me later that he experienced nothing unusual and that after two or three bites, it actually didn't taste bad. He had no insights, nor was he able to understand dialectic thoughts pouring through his Lohbado brain. It was, however, quite thrilling to make intimate contact with one of the Ooo, or zero zero zero, inhabitants. Consuming that brain was an intimate mind to mind experience. He felt quite moved, in retrospect, a few hours later, as he sat on the toilet and allowed breakfast to complete its journey through the intestines.