It was earlier of this week that my fair and noble lab assistant, Rob, did come to me with a request most humble, and yet most conceivably deadly, which did by chance bring to me a bold set of the realizations: Firstly, a recognition that our calender's savage, eight limbed sexpot, the OctoBear, once again rears his shaggy, fellatiating head— ah, Mr. John Josselyn did say it aptly when he remarked in his Rarities of New England that one ought "Beware the OctoBear, for his brain's are venomous."

And, en segunda parte, that far too much time had passed between items almanaciacal in this fair almanac, which it is my right and privilege, joy and responsibility to keep honest by the occasional insertion of items of a bona fide almanacish nature.

But, returning to the thrust of my message, Rob's request was such: He did ask for to be released early from his works on this upcoming thirtieth and final day of Septiembro. I have, historically, taken a dim view of the vacation (both paid and unpaid) and their have been harsh repercussions for even asking for such an allowance, especially if my mood was foul, peckish, content, or elevated. So, it was a foolishly brave thing for him to embark upon, in asking for this seemingly small dispensation.

I asked of the reasoning, and Rob explained that this final day of Septiembro is the Sukkoth, an enlengthened weeklong holy day on which the Judaic Semites— of which he is one by line if decent— in honor of the wanderful, hebraic forbearers do construct small, shoddy gazebos of leafs and twigs in order to celebrate the fact that they are very rich, and need not dwell in "crappy little joints made of sticks and shit."

Upon the ending of this Sukkoth is the holy day called Simchat Torah, which Rob explained is the celebration of the "Happy Torah", which is itself some form of manuscrpited book, writ upon a very long scroll of paper, and filled with tales of fear, murder, incest, infanticide, wife-swapping, jealousy, penile mutilation, et cetera. The Jew celebrates of the high entertainment value of this same, and Rob allows that it is their affection of this Scroll of Terrors that causes the greater percentage of our Nation's own fair Entertainment Industry to by populated by these same Jews. They love the good story, swashbuckling and true, and flatter their Angry and Faceless God in crafting more of same.

"At any rate," he finished, "Sukkoth is pretty fucking important, like, religiously, and I'd kind like to make it to services on time— and, well, OK, to be totally straight: I got another D.U.I.—"

"Dee You Eye?"

"—D.U.I.: Driving While Intoxicated— and"

"Intoxicated? You were poisoned?"

"Wha? No, booze— I'd been drinking alcohol and—"

"Alcohol?"

"Yeah, you know, like, they take wheat and smash it up with a bunch of malts and hops—"

"I make you the kid, Rob; I know of what is the alcohols."

Rob did stare at me long, mouth a gape.

"Are you gonna stop busting my balls and let me explain this shit?"

"Yes Rob. I apologize of the ball bustings."

"Anyway, so I got pulled over, and the cop ends up being the kid brother of one of the guys I used to buy weed of off, and so he totally took pity on my and wrote me up on some 'too fast for conditions' shit, and we went to court, and he was totally OK about it, and the judge slapped me with some community service shit, and what my folks and me worked out with the rabbi was that I'd go and help with the Sukkah and shit, and that'd cover my hours. So, anyway, that's what's up."

"And you build of the ramshackle shack to honor your God's bloody and stirring tales of adventure?"

"Naw, you've got 'em confused already: Simchat Torah is the story celebration."

"Will you need to leave early on that day, as well?"

"Naw, I'm making all the hours setting up the Sukkah and then tearing it down again, and doing some seal-coating in the parking lot. I probably won't even bother going to Simchat Torah shit."

"Yes. And the soo-kah shack celebrates of your earthly riches?"

"Well, yeah, it's— OK, I sorta explained it crappy. Sukkoth is, like, a Fall holiday, right? A harvest holiday? Like Thanksgiving: you celebrate the bounty of the earth and all that shit.

"Harvest?" I did ask, and Rob reiterated his query as to whether I was busting of his balls, which accusation I did deny, as my curiosity was not ersatz, and he went on to explain that in all things there is a time of planting, and a time of digging back up, a time of sowing the wind and of reaping the whirlwind, of birthing and fattening and slaughter, of letting the hair grow and of trimming the hair back, of splitting the shoots, of gathering the buds, of sorting out the stems and seeds, and pressing the remains into compact grams to be "sold to highschool kids and shit."

Thus is the nature of surface life.

"And of the OctoBear?", I inquired, "Fear you not of his polylimbed, shaggy ardent sexuality? His engorged and enamoured member? Can these leafy walls of your soo-kas retard his forward, inward progress? Worry you not, oh noble wanderers, of the destruction and mauling he might wreck upon your harvests and own bodily selves?"

Rob indicated that most of his Tribemates are satisfied to continue to inhabit their structured and rigid homes— with solid walls and expensive mechanisms of security— and leave the boothshacks to their own devices, in the backedyards, upon the patios or within the confines of their Temples of Gathering. He allowed that it might well be the case that the sukkot (as the plural is made) are, in these unguarded evenings, invaded by hair-covered homosexuals but, unless they "cream all over everything or something," then such invasion is neither noticed nor objected to. Thus we see the generally flexible and amenable nature of the Jew, who permits his tabernacle by day to serve as a place of hot and sweaty assignation by night with little objection.

"No harm, no foul, Lord A. That's the Jewish way, know what I'm sayin'?"

Rob, I do know, and I do penta-applaud with all five sets of arms and tentacles. When I am Lord Ruler President of this Land of Ours, it is surely your wise— though disturbingly dry-desert-dwelling— ethos of neither asking nor telling which I shall codify to Law Federal.

So, with no further adieu, I present unto you, my Faithful Readers, this months almanaciacal chart: "OctoBear - A Time of Culling and Harvest."

As for its use, you can see clearly that I have indicated what my and Rob's research and calculation indicate are the prime dates of harvest of a variety of dietary staples. For the example, we will note that in our researches, Rob and I did make discovery that the time of harvesting Leeks is in the late of October. As such, where-as I had previously not conceived of my accountant as comestible, I am now much aware that he, in the first place, is, and in the second, will be ripe quite soon. As is thus demonstrated, we all— matter not how agéd nor wise— may learn of some little thing new each and every day.

OctoBear - A Time of Culling and Harvest

Su	M	Tu	W	Th	F	Sa
					1. First Day of the Sukkoth: Jews build tiny shacks of leafy rooves. All harvest of the Apples	2. All harvest of Corn, Sweet
3. Harvest of the Cucumbers, Pickling	4. Harvest of the Cucumbers, Slicing	5. NO HARVEST: All must view of the Vice Presidential Debate, to be executed at the Case Western Reserved University of Cleaved Land, OH	6. Harvest of the Art-I-Choke	7. Harvest of the Sprouts, Brussels	8. NO HARVEST: All must view my savage victory at the Second Presidential Debate at Washington's University of St. Louis, MO. Also, final day of the Sukkoth— a day of Happy Torah, during which the Jews dance with a scroll of paper, indicating their delight in its Value of Entertainments, bloody of tooth and claw.	9. Harvest of the Eggs, Plant
10. Harvest of the Eggs, Chicken	11. Harvest of the Eggs, Pig	12. Harvest of the Eggs, Sheep or Goat	13. NO HARVEST: Relax to enjoy my Third Presidential Debate, engaged at the State of Arizona's University in Temperate, AZ	14. Harvest of the Beans, Shell	15. Harvest of the Fish, Shell	16. Harvest of the Vegatables, Chinese
17. Harvest of the Potatoes	18. Harvest of the Tomatoes	19. Harvest of the Infantoes Tender, delicious infantoes.	20.Harvest of the Leeks	21. Harvest of the Peppers, Sweet	22. Harvest of the Meats, Sweet	23. Harvest of the Meats, Pig
24. Harvest of the Meats, Monkey, Flying	25. Harvest of the Meats, Monkey, Flightless	26. Harvest of the Eggs, Monkey	27. Harvest of the Daikon	28. Harvest of the Cabbage	29. Harvest of the Garbage	30. Harvest of the Thyme
31. Harvest of the Time

Also, noted upon this calender, are my several Presidential, Primary and Viced, Debates of this month, in preparation for the final élection populaire of Novembrus 4. As I have received word that the Standing Pretender to the Throne does practice nightly in preparation for said events.

I have subsequently taken to staging my own practice debates, with Barnabus standing in place of the Standing President of Bush, the underripe Mr. Leeks as CryptoJohn Kerry, and my own Rob Miller as umpireferee. These skrimishes have been stirring and enlivening to the spirit, and as bloody of tooth and claw as any Jewish adventure scroll. I do look forward to savagely rending my opponents in earnest and in person.

My first Debate Presidential shall be on Septiembro the Thirty-and-Final, and the propitious first and foremost day of the Sukkoth, in the breezy Coral Gables of the Florid Land. Watch of these Debates, do cheer boldly for your champion, and then do Vote Squid!

I Remain, Humble Almanaceur and Future Tyrannical Ruler,
Your Giant Squid