I know, I know, another neglected blog, another neglected porch that no longer handles a purpose. Well on an archetypal level, the summer may be almost over. So perish the thought I may actually feel the need to do something, gods I hope not. The porch witnessed the biggest barbecue this side of the river in a long time. Burned my hands and everything. I adore my barbecue pit, the massive fast iron altar to the lords of fire. When I grille or barbecue, I honestly feel like I am summoning the forces of evil into the earth. Fire be good. Perhaps it is the basic instincts that dominate us, that rule us, which create the staisfaction that comes with burning edible flesh. It is one of the few male dominated fetishes that I can actually plug into. How can you beat 3 million years of evolution?