Posts Tagged ‘cavemen’
Saturday Review: Squire Boone Caverns
Written by Troglodad
Saturday, 23 May 2009 03:20
2 Comments

When it comes to caves, I think I’m going to choose my basement mancave over Squire Boone’s beloved Corydon caves.

In case you don’t know the history, Squire Boone and his more-famous brother, Daniel Boone, discovered the caves in Southern Indiana (Mauckport, near Corydon, to be exact) in the 1800s. They built a mill nearby. On one occasion, Indians, paid by the British to hassle folks on the frontier, were chasing Squire Boone and he hid from them in the caves, saving his life. Squire Boone so loved his caves that he wanted to be buried there.

I know all this ‘cause I chaperoned a field trip to the caves this week with my daughter’s school.

Call me soft- I’m definitely no frontiersman- but I don’t much care for Squire Boone’s caverns. Oh sure, they’re caverns, so they automatically get points in their favor, but I much prefer my own mancave.

First off, Squire Boone caverns are on a hill. Or maybe that’s in a hill? The point is that when you go, you’re going to be doing a lot of vertical hiking. From the slanted parking lot up to the gift shop, or down to the soap-making house, or candle-making house, or down to the Mill. See, there isn’t just a cavern to see, like in my youth. Nope, it’s a whole tribute to pioneer living. And that would be great- if it were on level ground. But I’m 41 years old and a fairly large guy. While I didn’t crack my head repeatedly on the high ceilings of the cavern like at Marengo Caves, I did find the up and downhill, back and forth hiking hard on my knees. Then we went underground.

Here’s an important safety advisory for anyone thinking of Squire Boone Caverns that has bad knees or is afraid of heights: Don’t Go.

When we went, the walk-in entrance was blocked off- this meant we got to do the 73 step-spiral staircase-from-hell to go down into the caverns, walk up and down many more stairs as we followed the guide, then turned around and climbed back out. I know, people laugh and say someone who’s 6 foot 4 inches tall shouldn’t be acrophobic, but I am. Especially when the metal stairs I am climbing flex under my wrassler-class weight.

Let’s compare my own mancave. It’s on level ground. One flight of stairs, that are strong enough to drive a car down, and carpeted. Maximum depth- one floor, not the 9 floors down that Squire Boone reaches at it’s deepest. My stairs are straight, too. No spiraling, no twisting, no turns. And dry, totally not slippery.

My mancave is drier- although I have to admit I like the cool dampness of caverns, it probably wouldn’t be good for my health in the long run. And while most caverns have electricity for lighting, well, there’s no TV. Point to my mancave and it's satellite goodness.

Solitude? 90 feet underground guarantees you probably wouldn’t hear a plane crash into the gift shop above, but I get decent sound-proofing from my mancave. No doors closing on cars, no cars-driving-by, no birds, no yelling kids outside. Basically then, anything more than one level underground is just unnecessary.

Did I get good pictures at Squire Boone Caverns? Yeah- more impressive than my GI Joe and movie memorabilia collection for sure. But given the strain on my knees to get there, I’ll contentedly stare at my bookshelves without any regrets.

Were the staff at Squire Boone helpful and nice? Absolutely. Great, friendly folks. If they were on level ground I’d go again. Several times.

All in all, I give Squire Boone 1 out of 5 stars. However, if you like climbing and dangerous heights, I’d boost the rating to 3 stars. All in all though, if you’re driving to Corydon to see a cave, I regretfully must recommend you go check out Marengo Caves. Even my 3 year old could handle that tour.  Just watch your head.

 
EVOLUTION: A black and white issue?
Written by Troglodad
Tuesday, 20 January 2009 17:39
18 Comments

Back during Barack Obama’s campaign, I noted in a cartoon the amazing similarity of Michelle Obama to the Geico cavemen. Having a rather caveman-shaped forehead myself, I felt this was fair game and a funny way to work in yet another dig on Chairman Maobama.

But I’ve been thinking–primarily about the cartoons I could have done, and I’ve had a stunning realization about Western society: The Theory of Evolution really is just another way to keep the black man down.

See, all of those nature-worshipping elitists that push Darwinism and Lamarckism believe that mankind evolved from monkeys. And, that the first human was a skeleton found in Africa that has been named "Lucy," who was a black woman. Ergo, mankind evolved from black women.

Now at first glance, a lot of black people (I use the color-descriptive term, because Africa isn’t full of just black people) might take pride in this scientific quackery, that their race was the first race. And, that they are the oldest, noblest progenitors of mankind. But that also implies they are the least evolved.

Remember, Lamarck and Darwin came up with their heathen blasphemies about man’s origin in the 1800’s, a time in world history when in the West, black men and women were deemed sub-human. In that age, white western men considered themselves the top of the food chain, their way of rationalizing centuries of slave trading.

For Europe, black men, and even native Americans, were not the same as "normal" men. The Spanish used the same rationale for justifying their invasion of the New World and forcing the natives to convert to Christianity.

Even "Evolution of Man" charts show the black man following apes, with white men following black men. Does all this mean that Barack Obama was the less-evolved candidate? That Americans have chosen a primitive paleo-liberal as their next president? Maybe, if you wear a pillow case over your head and like lighting crosses on fire.

Without getting all preachy, let me just close by expressing my sheer wonder that this hasn’t been noticed by the black caucuses and the NAACP before. Not really surprising since they have sought reparations from the United States, rather than the African nations that originally placed modern Black Americans' ancestors into slavery, and then sold them (if anyone could afford reparations, surely it would be the oil rich countries of Africa and the Middle East who are historically infamous for slave trading).

Now, it’s little wonder to me that so many black children going through our heathen school systems grow up feeling as though they don’t fit in with the rest of society. Or that all the rich, liberal snobs’ children grow up thinking they are better and that blacks need money thrown at them. Basically, we're subliminally telling young blacks that they're little more than animals.

This whole personal discovery has led me to revile Darwin and Lamarck even more than ever (something I never would have thought possible). Perhaps with a less-evolved president we could make some true progress and do away with the racist teachings of Evolution and begin telling our children that all men truly are created equal…not evolved differently.

 
Where have all the real men gone?
Written by Troglodad
Thursday, 20 November 2008 16:20
2 Comments

I'm feeling a little lonely here.  Like I'm the last real Man in America.

I’m talking about the e-Volve Gadget Shoulder Holster I just read about.  It's the straw that broke the camel’s back. Or maybe wrapped it in sissified, purse-ified comfort.

The Gadget Shoulder Holster, or "dork purse" as I'll call it,  vaguely looks like some kind of undercover shoulder holster for a handgun. But it’s a purse. Or maybe a bra with a side pocket.

And it's gotten me thinking. Has mankind sunk so low?

Where have all the real men gone? Why am I surrounded by an America full of panty-waisted, metrosexually confused twerps? Look at the presidential election for God’s sake! Obama is a pencil-necked geek. The toughest thing he’s ever faced in his life was a spoonful of crack. John McCain on the other hand was a bad ass Navy flier, who was beaten and tortured for five years to the point he can’t even raise his hands over his head. And yet he still campaigns and runs for office at an age when he should be retired, and sitting on the beach sipping a cool drink and watching the ladies.

What is happening to America? Forget the left-leaning nazification helmed by the Devilcrats. What about the virtual castration of our male populace?

I'm not exagerating people.

How often are you in traffic and you notice that the car ahead of you has no driver? You shake your head, realizing that KITT is a Mustang on NBC, not the rusted beater ahead of you, and then you finally notice the tuft of hair sticking up in front of a headrest.  You think for a moment, "look at that little old lady." Then you see it's a dude! A dude so frickin’ short he can barely see over the steering wheel.

Or take all these Viagra, Cialis and other plumbing medications for men we see on TV all the time! C’mon! A real man wouldn’t whine about his manhood. Nor would he jump up during a commercial and announce "Hey! I need some of those pills!" I mean, who are these advertisements for?

Look around you carefully and take note of the men in your life. How many drink diet coke? How many go to a hair stylist instead of a barber? How many will admit to pedicures?

Do you think some pink-shirt-wearing, pedicured, purse-carrying, diet-coke-drinking, Weight Watchers-eating band of sissies could have defeated the Nazis in World War II?! Can anyone reading this imagine their grandfather worrying about the fat content of a cheeseburger from McDonald’s, or wearing black because it’s slimming?

I should have seen this coming. I mean, I’m a student of history. I remember when fanny packs came out. People called those purses. And what about body sprays for men, instead of just cologne? Penny Loafers. Izod shirts. Light Beer. Xena.

Our male population has been reduced to a herd of geldings. There are no bulls left. Just little twerps worried about their looks, their fashion and their health. What a bunch of girls.

A real man wears his phone in a holster on his belt, next to his gigantic pocket knife. Or carries it old school, in his pocket with a massive set of keys and a couple of dollars worth of change. Throw in a couple of nuts and bolts, a drill bit and maybe some beer tabs- remnants from that DIY project around the house the weekend before.

A man’s pockets should be like the junk drawer in the kitchen, containing a little bit of everything. You thrust your hand in and wince as sharp things pierce your skin, then you pull out a handful of shrapnel and transfer it to a new pair of pants. You don’t organize your belongings in a shoulder-slung, multipocket contraption made of fine leather that matches your damn shoes.

Oh, sure, the manufacturer probably thinks guys will buy it so they can look like Dirty Harry, whipping out their iPhones to call 9-1-1 at the first sign of danger. What, are you five? If it isn’t concealing a weapon that can actually kill someone, it’s a frickin’ purse.

Might as well start speaking French- they’re all a bunch of socialist, purse-carrying sissies too.