When a few early Paleo enthusiasts stopped being enthusiastic, I laughed and dismissed them.
When a few of those, and others, wrote posts of divorce, I laughed and dismissed all of them again.
See, I’d written several posts prior—seeing what the Low-Carb Junk-Food “Revolution” Atkins had become—about what I eroneously took to be tantamount to a silver bullet or golden helmet. Since it was founded in human evolution, I didn’t see a way to rationally circumvent that, because the foundation is the foundation. Otherwise, what are foundations good for? I stupidly assumed that being in an evolutionary foundational paradigm would be just too much cognitive dissonance to go too far.
Man, was I ever wrong.
…I always mistake the power of being a whore. Whores are always out for money and they’re expert marksmen for marks.
I stood by as Paleo got filled with ignorant, stoopid creationists who are merely eaters of regurgitate mommy and daddy “taught” them and probably often enough, beat them into submission when natural, childhood animal tendencies rose up to some form of independent assertion.
Tell Me What to Do!
I make no bones about the fact that I loath religion, fantasy-as-fact religious dogma. I particularly loath and hate the damage it does to young people, shackling their one and only life they have actual knowledge of, in the name of a Mother Goose fantasy they have zero knowledge of. Fortunately, and likely by chance, I raised a middle finger to the Fundamentalist Baptists in a process from 18-20—partied and screwed with girls to mutual delight—and never looked back on that nest of impotent, limp-dick, fuckhead men: whose sole motivation is Woman Control…because they couldn’t create a real female orgasm if their life depended upon it; and where, if they had any sense at all, would come to realize how doing so is the key to the kingdom of life.
…And so what do I come to find, but that Victory Belt Publishing decides to jump on the Palo bandwagon a few years back. Basically, they’ll do a Paleo book for anyone with a heartbeat. You probably won’t make much money being published with a flashy book & zero credentials (I have emails), so it perhaps ought to be named Vanity Belt, but I digress.
A few weeks back, I loaded up the car with all the books I’d received to review (it would literally have been a full time job to review that many) and took them to a used bookstore in Campbell. There were two full hand trucks of books stacked to the hilt. $200. Thanks, Victory Belt!
The other thanks to Victory Belt is that it gave me a perspective into the changing nature of what I’d loved & nourished in my own way over years while resisting every admonishment that things were going way off track.
To me, I felt that dealing with the low-carb bullshit was easy, over time. It’s just not suitable for most and I have hundreds, if not thousands, of comments from folks attesting to that from their own experience. I also felt that dealing with mal-interpretations of anthropological science would easily correct in time (and even my own). I still do think that, actually. I’m game. I can continue. It’s a process.
And, I love laughing at any idiot who still—in 2013—believes in a big man in the sky. That’s just sporting fun for me. Hunting season. People who believe in God are the utter essence of stupid out of fear. There’s plenty, so lots of work to do and I love that work; which for me now, centers on this idea: “how does having your own personal imaginary friend as an adult work for you in an increasingly atheistic complex world?” And, if that atheism isn’t completely philosophical, it’s unarguably practical for most, and international (social media is grand in this regard).
In other words, God has been reduced to a caricature for grandmothers who wear black, and predominantly live in the nether regions of Spain and Italy (I’m excluding the 14th Century dirt scratching savages we ought ignore, rather than drone kill them out of the same [competitive—my God is better that your God] fear). What’s hilarious is how far behind the times the MSM is, with its 90%+ atheist commentators who can’t get enough of what the Pope is doing.
May we live in interesting times….
…Beyond being bombarded with Victory Belt books almost every week, I note that most books are cookbooks and every cookbook must have a dessert or treats section.
Tell you what. Go google something like ‘paleo treats.’ See how many results. Next, go google something like ‘paleo meatloaf’ or something like that. Do as many variations as you like. You’ll see what I mean.
I get about a dozen emails per day from people who have been “reading and ‘LOVING'” my blog and want to do a guest post. All get deleted summarily. I get 2-3 emails per week from people with the latest and greatest info graphic and it would be ‘perfect for [my] blog’. That’s the mundane. But what I hate most of all is the emails from “Paleo peeps,” so often with a picture of some baked sweet dessert treat.
So, I have finally reached my own level of outrage.
I will never, ever review another Paleo book with a single dessert in it. Not a Single. Fucking. One. I will forever disown anyone in any fashion that promotes any such thing and I would ask you to join me in that. But make it personal, so they understand.
Look at it this way. I walk that talk. Show me one single dessert item in something like 250-300 recipe posts I’ve done. What you’re most likely to find is that we had some berries & cream or yogurt or something like that after the meal.
So, to my simple mind, Paleo can withstand the low carbers (it’s an active debate). It can withstand misinterpretation of anthropology (active debate, still grounded in the fact of human evolution). It can withstand the Oingo Boingo band of delirious people fearful that they’re really not going to sit at the feet of Jesus for eternity, worshipping him (I staunchly prefer Hell).
What it cannot withstand is a marketing effort, now, to recruit people specifically and literally based upon their penchant for baked sweet tweets—by selling them MORE OF THEM!
Fuck all of you who have done that to this once great movement. I wish you hell, and have an ice day.