All opinions on Lewd Cognoscenti are expected to be interpreted with a liberal dose of humor and a basic understanding of what it means to be a good, healthy and intelligent person. Should you lack this ability or simply find yourself unable to relax and enjoy what life throws at you, then you should probably just get the hell out of here as quick as you can.

Lewd Cognoscenti

If we get to define the content here, then we choose the phrase; Pornography For The Brain, but since we don’t, perhaps this will suffice.

How to explain the way in which individuals come into contact with one another? Salman Rushdie perhaps said it best when he said that “to understand just one life, you must swallow the world.” And we are dealing with multiple individuals here.

So perhaps some definitions are in order…

Lewd: Preoccupied with sex and sexual desire; lustful.
Obscene; indecent.

Cognoscenti: A person with superior, usually specialized knowledge or highly refined taste; a connoisseur.

Life always runs along on the tension generated by seemingly opposing elements. That’s what makes it so damn fun.

The other thing that always has made life interesting is semantics. Language is a constantly evolving beast, which, because it provides the template for all human experience can never be captured fully, no matter how hard the compilers of dictionaries from your standard Webster to the Urban Dictionary might try. After all, remember that it’s entirely likely there is a young child out there who is convinced that the word spaghetti refers to god.

(those of you who laughed at that joke are Lewd Cognoscenti whether you realize it or not)

Three men and a hairpiece

One day three men were on their way to the airport to go see the Browns in Cleveland. They all grew up in Union City outside of Cleveland, but had found themselves gravitating towards the leader of the group, who had moved to Detroit for his job. They had all mysteriously found jobs in the motor city within six months of his leaving. One of the men was named John, and John had quite the receding hairline.

Upon this receding hairline, John usually saw fit to carry what looked to be the dead carcass of a 14 month-old brown haired woodchuck. This woodchuck had seen much action since it had gained the esteemed title of road kill. A small band of roving house dogs had happened upon it one day after its body had become slightly dessicated in the preceding afternoon suns. They had played tag with it until the four limbs had all been torn off and the head had been reduced to a shredded mass of slobber and cartilage.

Anyway the hairpiece looked bad.

So John, Tom and George were on the plane, and during the flight, John saw fit to make a scene over the fact that the airline had stopped serving peanuts on flights when a woman with an extreme peanut allergy had died after the fumes from the collective opening of nut bags had made her go into anaphylactic shock.

So there John was, standing in the middle of the aisle, going off on how American values where going down the shit tube because it was so hard to find a good bag of honey roasted peanuts, when the captain announced that everyone should return to their seats because of a difficulty with the plane.

There they were; nervous, anxiety riven and frightened, a pregnant woman screaming at the top of her lungs for somebody to save her baby, and the plane starts nosing down towards the flat lands that are western Ohio.

Everyone started reciting prayers to their various gods, and the pilot had left his mic on the channel that broadcasts into the cabin as he frantically called mayday into his radio.

And the plane slowly, silently, coasted with ever increasing speed towards the ground.

And when it hit, John’s hairpiece was the first thing incinerated as the ball of flame from the igniting gas tanks exploded through the cracked window nearest him.

Only one person survived the crash.

A small infant that was strapped in tight to the seat next to the frantic pregnant woman.

That small boy who survived this horrible crash became the uncle of the guy who used to have a workshop downstairs from the guy who helped start this website…

You might be Lewd Cognoscenti if you…..

Ever get those odd glances when your vernacular delves into the reaches that most mere mortals never bother to explore?

Ever find yourself listening to the babble that passes as ‘conversation’ in most social settings and fighting back the urge to vomit?

Ever watch the evening news and find yourself, not laughing so hard it hurts, but laughing so hard because it hurts.

you might be a member of the Lewd Cognoscenti. What separates us even further from the rare few who experience the above is the fact that we’re proud of it.

So if you ever find yourself inserting polysyllabic insults into unfortunate conversations with the un-aware simply because you know that they’ll never catch on…

If you find yourself wondering why it is that it’s so hard to find intelligent people who honestly care about the path that we as a species are taking…

If you think that what the world needs now is a new beat generation….

Welcome home.