Meat is Murder!

As much as I adore most violence, especially murder. As much as I believe that brutality is the most shamed, and therefore simultaneously the most adored, art-form within human culture. And much as I am almost endlessly enchanted by the same violent conceit, time and over again, (lo, how I revere being both witness and cause to the moment a soul knuckles under). I choose to be vegetarian. Usually.

You see, as I do not leave The Lab, and I habitually and brutally assault anyone who enters my space, I am forced to foster my own sustenance in an enduring manor. Thus 'The Lab' is a very large and diverse permaculture. In addition to grasses, of which I grow a bountiful amalgamation, I raise both nut and fruit trees, foul, ruminants, veggies, vines, and fungi. These crops tended by me, and this land, of which I have stewarded for millennia, produce enough bounty to fill not only my grain-hungry paternal stomach, but my second and maternal veg-and-dairy coveting gut as well. I therefore do not need to eat the flesh of any creature. Usually.

It does happen, every so often, that any semi-demi-god-like-mythological-beast/creature such as 'The Minotaur' must eat some meat. There are two such regular meat eating occasions in my life. I think the English word is “holiday”.

Holiday One: I receive my bi-annual supply of sacrificial humans. I simply must eat the leaders before their subordinates or there won't be enough terror and fright in the atmosphere. I find freshly pulled organs most unrivaled in both taste and effect, and I devour them with ill-informed intensity- no matter how foul or shit-stained they may be. Often I swallow them in front of their still-breathing hosts. Blood runs between my teeth like the rivers of over-ripe strawberry, and I laugh on the outside while I curse and wax demonic, intimidating and killing. Meanwhile, on the inside, I cringe.
My guts both bovine and sapien are not pleased with my holiday choices. This type of meat sears and churns inside my stomachs. My Grandad! The people fear me and know they will die soon! Yet they would die later after much more dismay if my guts would not need emptying from both ends so frequently and urgently. Cursed be my love of human trepidation and mortifying drama, and more cursed may my fragile grass-desiring innards be for denying me full the realization of my terrible performance.

Holiday Two: Bacon
I maintain a sounder of free roaming, predatorless, old growth pigs. The sows are often thousands of pounds and the sounder's boars can challenge me in combat. I let them range free in the lab, they are happy and elusive creatures. On occasion, I will manage to both find and take a full size sow. As I butcher her I focus on the preservation of her belly meat. Once cured this cut of meat is most delicious in and on almost anything and will awaken my carnivorous glands daily. I can use its residue oils to fry eggs or root crops. I can use it as a shortening, a dessert, an appetizer, a frosting, a bait, a snack, a smoothie, a mini-meal, a spice, a hair product, a natural or artificial seasoning, a vitamin, a lip-balm, a lubricant, a leather polish, etc. Yet for all this, I sympathize with the poor sows and take them most sparingly and respectfully.

Bacon be cherished: I am a simple vegetarian Minotaur.

I'm Still Learning English:

Heteronomy:

n.1.Subordination or subjection to the law of another; political subjection of a community or state; - opposed to autonomy.2.(Metaph.) A term applied by Kant to those laws which are imposed on us from without, or the violence done to us by our passions, wants, or desires.

For example: The Minotaur only obeys divine-order and is not subject to pathetic heteronomy. Anarchy!

Dear Zeus! An echo of my Minotaur soul: Metal!

You will excuse my absence, or if you wish to hold a grudge, I will disembowel your kin and bathe in their blood. As you may have guessed, I am excellent at finding my way around complex places. I knew Castle Crete and its grounds well, and I  have memorized this Labyrinth, but the internet is large, and I have been lost within it since my first entry months ago.  The internet is confusing and vast, it has many turns, bottomless-pitfalls, dead-ends. There are people who need help, (I have already greatly assisted three Nigerian Princes,) and those seeking fortune, and information of any type you seek! I have learned a lot about who and what the internet thinks I am. Fool of an internet! Only the Gods, the slain, and Leonard know the truth about me. Hopefully as I continue to write this blog, your puny societies will learn to fear and respect me once more. But, for today, I must settle upon sharing a most incredible discovery of mine, perhaps the greatest thing your race has ever created, and definitely the best thing I have found on the internet: Metal.

Although I have centuries of composition experience on my pan-flute I was never able to find the sound I was truly searching for. Try as I might, I could never quite capture the ruthless barbarism trapped within my bloodthirst. I am familiar with copper, bronze and even iron, but I am unsure exactly which element is used to create this astounding new metal. I am certain that it is the sound of my soul incarnate, and I am proud of humans who engage in such brutally beautiful alchemy in order to create such a ferocious expression of pure and unabashed savagery.

There are several groups of modern bards who have captured this element and bent it to their will, click their names below and have your mind blown again and again.

KORPIKLAANI

FINNTROLL

FINNTROLL 2 

MOONSORROW

and last and most certainly not least:

ENSIFERUM 

 

First things first:

Yes I am a Minotaur. The Minotaur to be more precise, and no, typing is not easy with hooves. I have recovered this computer from my latest victim and I am just finally learning how to use it myself. You see, like so many desperate adventurers, Leonard, who called himself a "Green-bray" (whatever that is,) came into my home with the intentions of dispatching me. He sought fame and glory like all the others, and he was a fool like all the others. And yes, I know what you are thinking: "Didn't Theseus kill the Minotaur thousands of years ago?" Well the answer is no, that is a myth. After snatching his little ball of yarn and making that rich brat cry I spared Theseus as to offer him an arrangement I found mutually beneficial: Theseus would proclaim that he slayed the white-bull-man-beast known as myself and I might get a few good decades of peace and quiet. He wisely agreed to this accord,(not knowing that my next bargain would be sodomizing him with a snapping-turtle in exchange for his writhing and screaming in agony,) and as the tale became accepted as truth, things finally quieted in the Labyrinth. The story became myth, and is, as I see here, still widely asserted. I must also thank the often revered yet dim and tepid-minded Ovid who regarded our ruse as truth, and as telling of the disconsolate state of human scholarship as it may be, helped spread our little tale to distant lands and times. But I digress, I was writing about Leonard, the Green-bray.
I met Leonard one evening as I strolled through the North Wing of the Lab. I prefer walking in that area in the evening as it harbors many owls and their call is most heartening and pleasant to me. Plus, its relatively close to the entrance and I frequently find human would be assassins creeping around this area after dark. On this particular evening the owls stopped their song abruptly which indicated to me that another human dolt had come to challenge me, a demigod, to a duel. I hid and waited to see what came creeping to its death.