He can read hundreds of studies in full text, write intelligently about them, pierce his finger endlessly, and help change the world.
And he can kill a moose for food in his spare time, too.
So, this morning I’m lamenting my plot in life as the world’s worst hunter, spending a week in camp in a prime hunting spot and not even seeing so much as a hair.
I go out to my garden to pick the last bit of kale for a morning smoothy, and who’s there ahead of me, eating my last few heads of kale? Mr. Moose. I put an end to his kale thieving ways and fill my freezer with some grass-fed…err…kale-fed prime steaks!
He’s a yearling bull, the most tender meat on the planet!
Heart and tongue cooking as I type this.
I posted this a while back, but the non-pussy, non-metrosexual, non-hisper but total shaming fuckhead gets serious fish for dinner, too.
Dismiss him if you like. He came to me with his ideas on resistant starch, in completely serious sobriety. I bit. I made a bet he was right; that there was really something to it and that it was profound in a missing link kinda way, because it made evolutionary sense to me. As I wrote posts and read studies myself, and got familiar with the logic, he made of himself a tireless collaborator in every comment thread, answering hundreds of questions. He never complains.
But if you dismiss him, just do it at your own peril. I placed my own bet he was right; I’ve been all in for months, laffing as people talk about new ways to get butyric acid by eating cubes of butter. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but your colon and its colonocytes will starve of butyric acid and other saturated, short chain fatty acids, even on a 100% butter diet.
I only wish I had something with which to raise.