From Tha Captainz Exploration Journal

Left for dead in this swamp (or is it a slough?) Only crawfish for company. He underestimates me. I’ve been gutshot before. A cuckolded husband’s scorn (how did he know?) can be as blinding as a woman’s can be furious.

This far into the muck, the crawfish have been known to grow quite large. Big enough? Have to be. Deep breath, now start digging. Mud mingles with blood and bowels. Further and further downward. Hand feels carapace. Not quite big enough yet. Keep digging before he can turn around. Not big enough to wear, but big enough that I don’t want to get to know him too well.

My insides are more mud than man, what’s left of my lungs burn, and my eyes (why open? dark in here) roll back in my head. Need to find this big fucker quick.

…and whaddaya know there he is. Gotta work quick. Knife out. God, the carapace is hard. It takes all my strength just to dent it and now he knows exactly where I am. SNAP. A claw the size of a VCR misses my leg by inches. I stab again and through. With an upward motion I gut the bastard. SNAP. His death throes succeed where his conscious efforts failed as that one cleanly lops off my left hand. With what little strength I have left, I pry him open and let the carapace envelop me. Somehow, it doesn’t seem so dark and unwelcoming down here anymore…

UPWARD UPWARD POWERFUL TAIL AND MANY ARMS PUMP THIS IS STRENGTH OUR VENGENCE WILL BE SATISFYING AND SLOW HE WILL KNOW OUR STRENGTH WE BREAK THE SURFACE HARSH BURNING SUNLIGHT NOW SPECKLED WITH AN EXPLOSION OF WONDERFUL COOL MUD THE TIME FOR OUR VENGENCE WILL COME BUT FOR NOW SOMETHING COMPELS US NOT TO LEAVE THIS SWAMP THIS HOME MAYBE BACK UNDER THE MUD FOR JUST A LITTLE WHILE MAYBE A LONG WHILE THIS HOME…

Inspiration/atmosphere:

From Tha Captainz Exploration Journal

Anyone can see a tree fall. The hearing is nothing special either. To experience it in a meaningful way, one must smell it. The other senses demand satisfaction, so their subjugation is a must.

1. Always moonless night.
2. Wet moss in ears.

Flecks of bark against my face, eyes. In my mouth. This has to be the last one, I've been out here for hours. No real concept of time, of course. I repress the urge to scream, to take my hand off the trunk. We're one now, mighty oak. Our bloods entwine, warming my hand, my arm all the way up to the shoulder. Flecks of bone against my face, eyes. In my mouth. The chainsaw finds release and the oak creaks and shudders as it begins its short trek inexorably towards the earth. The last one. Has to be. I don't have much arm left. I make camp and prepare for sleep.

1. Hot engine seals arm no more blood.
2. Lay down.

The morning will reveal the new forest. A humble forest no longer so vain as to reach toward the sky and away from the earth that nurtures it. A forest with a slope of zero rather than one undefined. The earth prefers her children not to divide by zero.

From Tha Captainz Exploration Journal

... because I've never seen ice crystals like these. The way they reflect off the She-Polar-Bear's back makes my already stiff cock ache with blood and semen. This ice cavern is cold and almost blindingly bright from the bioluminescent algae but the inside of the bear is warm and dark.

Exploding inside her, I can only think of one thing. Will we be together forever? No. As the pick-axe penetrates her brain, I swear I see a spirit leave her body and enter mine. Maybe we will be together forever.

One cigarette and a shot of gin for the long hike down the glacier. Finally warm inside. I can't get over those ice crystals...

Excerpts from Tha Captainz Exploration Journal

...and after that the big cats learned it was better - for their own sake - to leave Tha Captain alone.

Climbing again now. Always higher. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen but it absolutely and completely takes my breath away just to make a feeble attempt to try to maybe half-understand the majesty and the all-encompassing grandeur of the wonder that is these high moors.

An elk. A rare treat. I'm reminded subtly of my tryst in the great Canadian wilderness. I'm downwind of him and his musk is absolutely intoxicating. When I dream it is almost as rare a treat to be able to ride upon the back of such a beast. A twig snaps under my foot as I approach my would-be steed. He wants to run but he can't bring himself to do so. Closer. Closer. I can smell his breath. My pulse quickens. My blood feels as thick as napalm and twice as hot. I reach out. His fur bristles like a million tiny erections. I see a tear form in his steely eye. He knows his death is near but he knows it will not come in vain. I climb atop him. Onward, proud warrior, onward...