The Fear of Monkeys - The Best E-Zine on the Web for Politically Conscious WritingThe Moor Macaque - Issue Thirty-Five
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The Moor Macaque  from Christiano Artuso The Moor Macaque is endemic to the tropical rainforests and grasslands of the island of Sulawesi in Indonesia. Their diet consists of they eat figs, bamboo seeds, buds, sprouts, invertebrates and cereals. They have brown to black body fur with a pale rump patch and pink bare skin on the rump and are about 55 centimetres in height. They are sometimes called a "dog-ape" because of their dog-like muzzle, although they are no more closely related to apes than any other Old World monkey. Adult male moor macaques do not interact frequently, although the interactions that occur frequently involve affiliation rather than aggression, with greetings being the most common form of interaction. The greetings enable males to show their willingness to invest in the relationship, and may represent one way for adult males to ease social tension and build social bonds. The moor macaque is threatened mostly due to habitat loss from an expanding human population and deforestation to increase agricultural land area. The population is estimated to have decreased from 56,000 to under 10,000 from 1983 to 1994. In 1992, Supriatna et al. conducted an extensive survey and found only 3,000-5,000 individuals of the species. The survey estimated densities to be 25-50 individuals per kilometre. Several Sulawesi macaque species are endangered, and information on their ecology and behaviour is desperate needed if conservation plans are to be effective.




Jim Tuggle



"Are you the 'Mary,' mother of Jesus Christ?"

"Yes sir, I am indeed, the mother of Jesus. I am well known up here; how is it that you not recognize me?"

"Well, that's a complicated story, you see, I went to Hell when I died. Seems I was rather famous when I lived in the flesh. My popular name is--"

"Sam, you lovable semi-wicked man, all of Heaven knows Mark Twain. The gossip I hear is that you pushed the envelope one too many times. That book you wrote pushed the Old Man over the edge. God agreed with you on most parts, but making out the Devil as somewhat rational and humane yanked a knot in His tail."

Irrasbalilty returned, "Well, goddamn it is true. Those fuckin' Christians tortured humans in the most grotesque way. And they did it in the name of God. How in the hell can that be?"

Mary reached out, finger nearly touching his nose. "You are missing the big picture, Mr. Twain. The Lord allowed humans to evolve, develop their brain, figure stuff out. What do you think? Is he going to micro-manage a bunch of intelligent animals? No. He's not.

"Listen to me, Mark, there is no Hell. Hell is just a part of Heaven. Some souls deserve the best, some deserve the worst. And some are too complicated to fit any mold -- we call them floaters. Sam Clemens is a floater."

"Well, ain't that a kick in the ass. So, I've wanted to ask you a question for a very long time. Is that OK"?

"Ask away Mark Twain; your question will be answered."

"Thank you. I was about thirty years old when Pope Pius IX made it official. Mary, mother of Jesus, was a virgin when the seed of Jesus was planted in your womb. Would you clear that up for me?"

"Sure, I'd be glad to set the record straight. I was married, for God sakes. What kind of person would I be had Joseph and I not enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh? God came to me as a human man. And I gladly coupled with Him. Why me? The question was never asked. One thing is for sure; I was alluring, moral, and loving as any other women. Never was I above, nor beneath any other woman. He needed a vessel, I gladly accepted.

"Come, sit with me, Mark, I will tell you the tale."


It was early for someone to visit. Joe answered the door. "Can I help you?"

A handsome man, middle age, tall, majestic--looking fellow asked in a most pleasing way, "I've traveled a long distance, Joe--"

How'd he know Joe's name?

"-- I'm tired and thirsty. Do you suppose I could rest a bit before I continue my journey?"

What a nice guy, very odd for a stranger to come by; in the morning no less. How can he refuse? "Sure, stay as long as you like. My wife, Mary, will be up in a while, just tell her I offered you some water, some bread, and a place to rest before you continue your journey. You will like Mary; she's a wonderful lady."

The man had a puzzled look, "The children, are they not up yet?"

What an odd question to ask, Joe hesitated, then answered, "Nope, no kids yet. We try, maybe someday." After Joe shrugged, he said, "I have to leave now, big job over in East Jerusalem. Carpenter work is tough these days. Plus," he winked, "I'm told she's a good--looking woman -- and alone. The husband's a Roman soldier." He winked again at the stranger, "She may need some extra comfort if you know what I mean?"

Joe wasn't out the door but for a few moments before I came out of the bedroom, bare--breast, barefoot, and a short wrap low on my hips. There the stranger sat, "Oh my--"

"Fear not, lady Mary, Joe invited me to say and rest awhile." The stranger could not take his eyes from the beautiful creature before him.

And I, bare--breast, barefoot, with a wrap low on my hips, why do I not cover myself? What force tugs me to this handsome man? Why do I fear not? Slowly and sultry, I pulled one foot in front of the other gliding toward the man. My genitals filled with blood and began to moisten. I reached to touch his knee. My eyes fell to his lap like rocks fall to the ground. An apparent lump slowly began to rise, to lift his robe like the hoisting of a tent. Oh my, I'm burning up. I reached for the thing lifting his robe. My eyes grew; a big smile appeared. My fingers around the thing beneath the robe, sliding down, and down, and down.

The stranger sat still, watching my fascination grow. While my hand reached the bottom, I looked in his eyes. I knew something was amiss, although, I knew something beautiful was coming my way. I moved my lips to his while the grip on the thing under the robe held firm. His kiss stirred like gentle lightning through my body. Ecstasy so strong I melted into his lap.

The trip to the bed felt like moving on a cloud, no sensation of being carried, I'm on the bed, my wrap is gone, his finger floated along my face, my neck, nipples, belly, vagina, thighs, feet. Orgasm, after orgasm follow his touch. I could see myself as if floating above, my body reacting to my pleasure. A vision came to me; it was the thing beneath the robe. I reached for it, held it, guided it into my body. Deeper and deeper into places never explored. Now my orgasms were constant, not one after the other but a continual rapture.

The wonderment remained, and it continued, how long? I could not say. I knew there were two of me -- my flesh and my soul. What a glorious thing, my spirit watching my vessel -- watching him pleasuring me - watching me pleasuring him. Then the moment arrived -- ecstasy unbridled. Words could never explain it. My body was not of the flesh anymore. It was pure energy. I drifted through the stars, the heavens, the Universe. There, way down there lay my body taking in the man with all he had to give. When flesh could take no more, he pulled free. He kissed every part of me, head to toe, front to back. Every little piece felt his tingling gentleness.

When my senses returned, the man stood before me in all his nakedness. I asked with an infectious grin, "When are you coming back?"

"He laughed. Be sorry not, sweet Mary; we will meet again."

I laid yielding as a fog on the morning glen, facing up, legs apart, arms stretched wide. Deep sleep came quickly.


The dinner hour approach. Joe came through the door, looked for me. Not finding me, he called. Nothing. Entering the bedroom, there I lay exactly the way sleep had taken me. "Mary!" he shouted. Nothing, "Mary!" raising his voice.

"What," came a sleepy answer.

He shook my left foot. "Wake up. I'm hungry."

"I hear you. Give me a moment."

He grabbed my ankle. The covers were damp. He moved toward the headboard, leaning in. My hair was soaking wet. "Mary!" he yelled, "why are you so sweaty?"

"What? Sweaty? Me." I lifted my head, blinking rapidly, looking around, then at Joe. My head fell back to the bed. Then he noticed the sweet scent of spent love. "Damn you, Mary. You laid with him. I gave him bread and water. You gave him your body. I'll kill you, Mary."

My eyes turned to fire, my face flashed a foreboding look, frightening a stunned Joe. He recoiled backward. I spoke as never before. "No, you will do no such thing, you weasel, you fornicator extraordinaire. If I am with child, you will be a loving father. You change your ways this very moment, or I'll feed your manhood to the dogs."

He backed away, stunned silent by my threats.

I stood, pushing my face nearly touching his nose. "Yes, I took the seed from that bewildering man. I took it gladly. No words can explain the euphoria given to me by that perfect gentleman. We separated -- souls departed from our flesh. We watch in joy our bodies giving and taking that seed. My body gladly consumed every pleasure. My body gave all the pleasure it had to give. I saw the heavens, the stars -- I saw things I could never understand. I saw all there is to see. I became one with the heavens, earth, and all that is beyond. I saw my child take life. I saw all the wonders yet to come. And I said to Joseph, I saw you, a sinner among sinners, become a loving, caring father.


"Now, Mr. Twain, that I solve the puzzle of all creation, I hold the wish of all living things to pass their seed on. For one to give; the other to nurture. It is that overpowering urge to replenish those who will one day die and fade away. The beauty of my coupling with that immaculate man is not a sin. It is our commitment to humanity to pass that seed from one to another and what wonderment such task will bring. When some irresistible spirit came to me as flesh and blood, and we two made a child -- what amazement might that child bring?"

They sat, moments did pass, she looked with a gleam in her eyes, "Had that event just described, happened any other way; that I was duped, by trickery, some surrogate slipped that seed into me as I slept, or any other fraud without my knowledge or consent -- what might that suggest"

He sat idle, telling her, "I'm trying not to curse; give me a second." Finally, "Rape, is the least offensive word that comes to mind."

"I agree. Pope Pius IX was full of shit.

"But, Mr. Twain, there is more to my story. At first, I was uncertain; why I don't know. So, when my days were done on earth, God came to me to discuss the day Jesus was conceived. One would think God to be infallible. Then He said to me, that bringing his son into the saga of man was a mistake. Jesus should never have been because God had now become complicit with human development -- He had interfered. If humans needed a religion, then fine, let them find their religion. How tragic is it, that His simple message to 'love thy neighbor' could become the battle--cry for such butchery? That is my story, beginning to end. Too bad you're dead, what a fine book that would make."

Both had a nice heavenly laugh, "So it would, Lady Mary, so it would."

They stood, their chat complete, she said, "By the way, aren't you glad there are no religions up here?"

"That's what makes Heaven, Heaven."


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