This campfire reminds me of the origin of “primitives,†“Skins’s island,†“campfires,†&c., &c., &c.
It was years ago, back when “DUmmies†was about the only term used to describe members of democraticunderground, and many here were active at our old home.
One Sunday afternoon, I happened to be over on democraticunderground, and came across a thread where the DUmmies were discussing impeachment of then-vice president Richard Cheney; I no longer remember all the DUmmies involved, other than that Raven, the maternal ancestress of the Bostonian Drunkard, was one of them.
Now, for me, words are colors, shapes, and movement, and a series of sentences can make a picture, in the imagination. I attribute this to having grown up, and lived most of my life, without television.
When I started reading that thread, I suddenly felt myself as an explorer lost in the jungle who’d just crashed through some dense undergrowth, coming upon a clearing, where there were some DUmmies sitting in a circle around a smoky campfire; they appeared half-naked, ugly, dirty, foul, loathsome, and were excitedly jibber-jabbering and wiggle-waggling their arm-pits at each other as they passed around voodoo dolls of Richard Cheney.
They grunted their approval, or snorted their disapproval, of each one, handling the dolls very roughly and even swatting each other with the dolls, jabbing more pins into them, trying to stuff the dolls into their mouth, or stomping on them.
(Their “comments†being the dolls.)
What was additionally interesting were the expressions on their faces, bloated and distorted in hate and rage.
Well, this campfire by cousin nadin gives sort of the same “picture†in this imagination, excepting in this one, the primitives, instead of being hateful, reminds one of a circle of lilliputian “special needs†children.
