Monday, April 20, 2009

Life on the Edge

A diver has described his long duel of death with a hungry tiger shark.

“I speared it in the gills and even tried to drown it, but it still wouldn’t die,” said Craig Clasen.

He tried to drown it? Didn’t he know that sharks can breathe underwater? I suppose he must have been playing hooky during that biology class. He also fired his spear gun at the wrong place. Shoot a shark in the gills and it just gets angry – to kill it instantly you’ve got to shoot it in the anus.

After finally putting a knife through its skull, he claims he was full of remorse. That didn’t discourage him from slicing a hunk of meat off the carcass to make shark sandwiches for his next maritime adventure.

“Having made a meal of killing it, I made a meal of its flesh,” he would have said if he’d been more witty.

Remorseful or not, our harpoon hero will surely remember his epic victory over Jaws Junior as one of the highlights of his career. There’s nothing like danger to make the pulse race and the brain switch to record. The boxer who floored Mike Tyson for the first time must have re-lived that moment a thousand times, quite possibly while servicing his missus. Emerging unharmed and victorious from a life-threatening challenge produces a feeling of elation. I once saw a photo of a Masai hunting party after killing a full-maned lion. They looked elated.

Can pacifists get the same feeling without actually killing anything? The happiest humans I ever saw in my circus days were the high wire performers. Mad as baboons, but quite literally high on life. After walking the tightrope, their faces glowed like light bulbs. I asked one of them whether he felt any fear when practising his trade. He said that accomplished tightrope walkers believe they have conquered gravity and can float on air. I asked him if he had any advice for beginners. He said they should write a will leaving their money to the High Wire Artists’ Benevolent Fund. He obviously wasn’t as crazy as he looked.

The drawback of dangerous pastimes is the risk of a violent death, leaving a nasty mess for people to clean up. But that’s usually a better way to go than dying from a disease. George Orwell said that getting shot in the neck in Spain was a lot more fun than consumption. The manager of the safari camp has asked one of the park rangers to shoot him like a rabid dog if he ever contracts owl flu. He thinks it would be preferable to getting the hoots and expiring with a constipated stare on his face.

So should you take up an extreme sport? On balance, I would advise against it. Humans who feel euphoric after a parachute jump are not really euphoric – they just think they are. The brain is basically a penis in the skull which releases a lot of endorphins when it’s stimulated in the right way. The secret of a contented life is to feel pleasure without doing anything pleasurable. As Master Kan said to Grasshopper, “When you can walk its length and leave no trace, you will have learned.”

Labels: , , ,

I find that the strangest things can give me pleasure, but I have no wish to appear on a Channel 5 documentary. Working out how best to use government finances does not often feature in the list of extreme sports, but it gets me going.
You wouldn't catch me jumping out an aeroplane. Is that Gary Barlow in the photograph?
An anus shooting an anus... how very apt.
I'm sure his legendary tale of bravery will amuse many an airhead in the back of his truck.

It's amusing to me how so many of these cardboard heroes go down after the very first punch.
So, do you feel dirty having stimulated all of our skull peni?
What about something slowly death defying, like smoking a pack of Camels a day and washing it down with a fifth of whiskey? Do you think it can produce the same effect? Elation, downer, hang over... the full range over many years... AND one gets the healthy glow caused by broken facial capillaries!
i had a conversation with my sister today about our Nymphomaniac cousin. i think it's the same principle.. looking for some form of validation.
I must be a sick, sick bastard, 'cos the only pleasure I get from watching extreme sports is seeing the competitors crash. Same with skiing, I just want to see them career into the barriers and get impaled on one of their own ski sticks.

Ha, Gary Barlow, yes it looks like it is!
Madame Defarge: You have kinky thoughts without acting on them, Madame Defarge. That's what makes you a woman of refinement.

Emerson: Has Gary Barlow shaved his head then? I think he looks better as a slaphead.

Mr Bastard: How long would he have lasted on the mean streets of Glasgow, I wonder?

Hoodchick: I think your one needs a lot of stimulation, so I'm proud to have got you off.

Ana: You sound as if you need to detox in my monastry, Ana. We don't shave heads in our place, but you'll have to walk around barefoot.

Sarah: You've got a nymphomaniac cousin? Maybe she should write a blog to get it out of her system.

Gadjo: You won't need treatment until you fantasize about being in the crashes yourself. Is Gary Barlow someone famous then? I thought he was a character in Z Cars.
I'm sure I read, long ago, that the best way to deter a shark was to hit it, very hard, directly on its nose. Quite why and in what context I read this, escapes me, but if I were to meet a shark, I'm sure I'd try the nose thump manoeuvre.

Tightrope walking gets you high, eh? According to the Wii Fit, I'm a professional at tightrope walking. Can't say it's given me much of a thrill though.

Maybe by drowning the shark he lifted it above his head out of the water. I imagine the weight of the shark would have sunk the fish fighter too low to keep the shark above sea level, but I guess if you're going fist to fin with a shark, you're not thinking clearly.

I also wouldn't be surprised if his ecstasy was so great he banged the dead shark. When you're out in the ocean with no women around and a spring loaded harpoon in your trousers, any warm flesh will do. Or so I would imagine.
The secret of a contented life is to feel pleasure without doing anything pleasurable?? Are these your words, GB, or are you quoting? I hope it's the latter but if not then I would advise you to try some form of extreme sports to see how the penis in your skull works... but I have a feeling I'm preaching to the convert.
I remember a similar battle twixt me and an undercooked kebab. After circling, we duelled, I feasted, it made a brief comeback but I manfully retaliated and thought I had won, only to be taken by surprise when it mounted a rearguard offence some hours later.

The term hero is bandied about so carelessly these days but . . . credit where credit's due I think.
*“Having made a meal of killing it, I made a meal of its flesh,” he would have said if he’d been more witty.*

Yes indeed! :-)

Well said on contentment - I've often thought that 'to be happy with your lot' about sums up the secret to happiness, even.
The secret of a contented life is to feel pleasure without doing anything pleasurableIndeed! Having a big poo can be pleasurable...
A wise man once said to me, "Would you rather be scared, or bored?" It seems that I spend most of my energy trying to walk a line between the two. Adrenalin surges only gave me psoriasis. I try to avoid them now.
Yay. I have a stimulated penis in my skull.

Better that than owl flu!
Kitty: Yes I believe their noses are very sensitive to both whacks and electric fields. I don't know how reliable Wii Fit is, so perhaps you ought to start off on a low wall.

Chris V: Wouldn't you say that dugongs were more bangable than sharks? More flesh to hold onto.

Polly: I'm afraid they are my words, Polly. If you think I was talking bollocks go right ahead and say so. I can take it.

The Jules: You must be the first man who got skewered by a kebab. I should imagine it's more fun than it sounds.

Eve: Thank you, Eve, I'm glad you understand this oriental wisdom. Do you remember Master Kan and Grasshopper?

Vermilion: It certainly can, Miss Cream, but do you know how to get the most out of your pooing? I once explained this.

Lady Daphne: Very wise, milady, scared or bored is a dichotomy for those with ants in their pants. You have surely mastered the art of putting your feet up.

Rachel: Haha! I'm sure your penis is the envy of Essex, Rach!
GB: you assumed said cousin was female. interesting.
I break out in hives at the thought of parachute, bungee or any other sort of stupid high jumping.

I'm with Vermillion - sticking to my poo for pleasure
The events I like to relive are successful moments in teaching, which always give me a mildly euphoric glow. That may sound pretty sad, but successful teaching beats tightrope stunts any day.
"Rachel: Haha! I'm sure your penis is the envy of Essex, Rach!"

Many Essex girls have only a stimulated penis in their skull, but you're perfectly right, they'll be envious that mine is actually something of my own.
I once leapt out of a hot-air balloon, don't you know?

Admittedly, it was still tethered to the ground, but still the thrill was palpable.

For my next adventure, I may well wrestle a herring.
That Craig Clasen is definitely missing some wit... he really said he tried to drown it!

I really admire you for how involved you are in the blogiverse.
For my course, I'm writing a paper on social networking, and I was wondering if you could give me an estimate of how much time you spend on reading other people's blogs and giving them feedback.

Those high-wire artists sound pretty smart.

As for killing the sharks, this pacifist Cow thinks they should have the right to life, not just humans.

Being afraid of both sharks and heights, Ive never felt tempted to scuba or sky dive. So I do a lot of martial arts instead. Surviving an evening spent rolling around on the floor with some big sweaty blokes always gets my endorphins going :)
Sarah: A male nympho is actually a "satyromaniac" Sarah, but for some reason the word is hardly used.

Lulu: I wonder if anyone has tried pooing while skydiving to maximise the thrill?

Mary: It's doesn't seem like a vice that's very addictive!

Rachel: Do you think Essex might make more of its famous girls in attracting tourists, Rach?

Deborah: If you look in my profile you'll find an e-mail address, Deb. I look forward to our intimate chat.

Topiary Cow: He claims it was self defence, Ms Cow, but many people don't believe him. Sadly there are no impartial witnesses.

Mrs Cake: Ah, so you followed the path of Grasshopper and Master Kan! They practised kung fu, though, and were very spiritual about it.
I am not into sport full stop but my own version of extreme sports comes after sunday dinner when I eat lots of sprouts and fart in a tuneful way. With practice I can do 'God Save the Queen.' Ma'am would be proud to hear me in action I'm sure.
Sexy makes some interesting comments :) I don't know whether fishboy had a penis between his ears or thin air - whoever heard of drowning a shark? Feeling pleasure without doing anything pleasurable is the secret of contentment as you say Sensei GB. The mind is a marvellous thing.
Commuting by public transport gives me all the adrenaline rush I could ever need.

The best way to deter a shark is to send it a letter thanking it for applying for a post with your organisation and that its CV is on file.
GB: the word lecher is. but seriously, my cousin is a slut.
I stand corrected. Checked with the pilot/ex-scuba diver and you can indeed drown a shark if you keep it still. Who knew?
I have a penis in my skull?

That's a wasteful place to keep it :-(
Darn. I can't believe sexy found out our secret, Gorilla, and is posting it for the world to see.

(Cow bashfully hiding)

cool, thanks. e-mail is on it's way!
Emma: I must send you a copy of How to fart like a lady.

Sexy: There is much in what you say, but have you considered the problem of friction burns?

Kate: Any pleasure you have would please me, Kate. I would call that suffocation rather than drowning.

Kevin: You're not playing chicken on the railways lines, are you?

Sarah: May he find one day find wisdom.

Nursemya: Hello Nursie! I'm sure many men would offer you joint custody of their one.

Topiary Cow: I'm not ashamed, Ms Cow! Let them publish and be damned!
i can't read this. it's about sharks. i don't do sharks.
He tried to drown it? Didn’t he know that sharks can breathe underwater? @hahahahahaha
How sad. Unless it was attacking him, in ITS OWN TURF, mind you, I feel sorry for the shark. It was probably years old and some ego-driven prat took it's life.

I really can't stand people that go into their territory and kill them. ugh.
Yes, Ms Smack, a lot of people are saying that he killed it for fun. There seem to be holes in his self-defence story.
Odd that you mention that the only way to kill sharks is by shooting them in the anus. This is also the only way to kill Mike Tyson.
david carradine did quite a bit of filming in my part of the world in the 90's (i'm guesssing) while working on the new kung fu series.

Apparently he enjoyed "extreme" drinking. The crew on set referred to him as "glasshopper."
Static: I once saw a chimpanzee rip off Mr Tyson's trousers.

Ram: Who would have guessed it? He seemed so spiritual.
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Follow my blog with Bloglovin Follow my blog with Bloglovin