names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent...

The sun hangs like coal-ember in a sky thick with tropical heat. The dance of color the setting creates is a testament to the fact that we are yes, in fact, in Hawaii. I take a swig of warm beer from the bottle and gaze around at the friends here with me that I've come to know and love.

Villa Lobos and Juana represent the pixies in our crew. Both are tiny creatures full of energy and passion. Juana can be kind of a bitch sometimes but since we all know that Villa Lobos will marry her someday we let it slide. To my left, milling around the barbecue is Asno Agradable. I know, "Villa Lobos and Asno Agradable?" you say. Most guys in the fraternity go by their last names. Nunca Feliz and I alone seem to be the exceptions, as usual. Asno Agradable can sometimes fit into that all too reiterated Jewish stereotype. While he can be one helluva'n asshole, he is always there to go to bat for his friends, as he has for me on many occasions. Just watch out if you aren't counted as one of them.

Of course there is Nunca Feliz, but he has his sister along with us on this trip. Lesbiana is a great friend of mine, even more of a drama queen than her brother, but she is surely one confused individual. At least, when it comes to sex. She came out only a couple years ago (she is 23 I believe), but soon decided that that wasn't enough. So then she decided that she only liked girls that dressed, talked, and acted like guys. They change their names to male names and insist that you refer to them using male pronouns. Oh man, watch out with these girls if you ever refer to them as she. Like I said, confusing.

The only reason we poor college kids (Well, except Asno Agradable that is. His dad is Will Smith's accountant and is known to share a regular game of golf with the Fresh Prince.) were even able to visit paradise was because Nunca Feliz's grandmother owns a condo in Maui. That's how we found ourselves in the only sleepy little tourist-town left in Hawaii: Lahaina. The locals still reign supreme here, but you'll have no trouble satisfying your shopping itch. The food is, of course, spectacular. We had an auspicious start, as our rental Jeep broke down the same day we rented it. It was also amusing to ride with our driver as he casually conversed with us all the while drinking from his can of Budweiser. Luckily we all fell in love with the new Jeep, affectionately referred to as Jeep #2. It served us well.

Among our colorful experiences...

Waking up early to catch the perfect waves breaking right outside our door when the water was still glassy. Me, being conned by one of the locals into buying fake weed (oh, he was good). Having our friend overnight a quarter in a jar of peanut butter; throw those dogs right off the scent. Witnessing Lesbiana become the group's savior one night when she casually strolls in and throws down an eighth on the table without a word. She had hooked up that night with someone well connected apparently (boy at the time). Luau; a smorgasboard of food and alcohol (hollowed out pineapples filled with MaiTai), music and revelry that won't soon be forgotten. I believe it was that night that I broke the lamp in the condo and then had to take Jeep #2 clear across the island the next day to buy a replacement. Who could forget the time we all rented scooters in an attempt to become the Hawaiian version of an English mod gang and went barreling down the Maui coastline. Priceless. Snorkeling over black rocks reached only after passing through a forest of tall trees where every visible thing is emerald green. Night sessions on the beach.

You get the picture.

Everyone said I looked like Hunter S. Thompson during that trip because of my shaved head and small round sunglasses. I prefer to think it was the Johnny Depp HST of Fear and Loathing, but of course, then I would be wrong. And in conclusion? There is no conclusion. Who needs conclusion when you have paradise?

It's 55 degrees outside, unusual for late November. The sun is less than 30 degrees from the horizon, and that's as high as it's going to get in these parts before February. I got to garden.

I found a cluster of slug eggs--most were cloudy with embryos visible. A couple were translucent, clear glass marbles, unrewarded effort. Conception is hit-or-miss, even in the invertebrate side of life. I may take them to school.

A couple of flies meandered in my view as I weeded. A few earthworms are still nosing about the top edge of the soil, possibly as confused as I am by the warmth. The earth still smells like earth--we haven't had a sustained chill yet.

Barefoot in November mud, it's hard not to anthropomorphize. The word has developed a negative connotation, like "liberal" or "conservative Christian" (which are not mutually exclusive).

Given human form to things not human is considered bad form, as far as I can tell, because it elevates mere critters to something as special as we are. Most folks I know (an admittedly very limited circle) are scared to death of life. We need a word for attributing life to humans, at least a word not already corrupted with connotations.

What an animal!
Useless piece of shit!
Did you crawl from under a rock?

"Anthropomorphize" used to refer to humans giving the gods human characteristics. By the late mid-19th century, western peoples replaced their gods with themselves, and the word took on its more recent meaning.

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I pulled a lot of elodea out of the pond today. If I leave it in, it will die under the ice, and its organic matter will feed bacteria that consume more oxygen than they produce. My fish would suffocate, and I will find them floating in March when the rains melt the ice.

So I pull out yards and yards of elodea, and along with it snails and daphnia and copepods and stentorians and paramecia. I accidentally pulled a fish out of the water, and got to feel it wiggling in my hand as I placed it back. I liked the feeling.

I killed tens of thousands of critters to save a handul of fish. Go figure. Hardly matters, they're just protists, crustaceans, copepods, or just plain pond scum. Certainly not human.

At any rate, the slugs and the flies and and the elodea spent most of their short day doing what most of us are wont to do--grabbing some energy, increasing our likelihood of reproducing, or burrowing until the sun returns. I hardly spend time contemplating the daphnia I carelessly tossed into the compost today, and the daphnia left certainly do not spend any time pondering me. Still, I suspect they do ponder.

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An anthropomorphized god (even the God of Abraham) is far more dangerous than an anthropomorphic animal, and there are enough westerners still anthropomorphizing the deity du jour to wreak havoc on people they will never meet.

You are not special. You will die here, too.

Ponder that.