𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐝 𝐀𝐯𝐞 𝐕𝐏 𝐀𝐝 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 ... 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

Recollections of a World Class, Top 10, 

Mad Ave VP Ad Biggie ... etc.

["TRUTH" in Advertising]

In high school I discovered Biology. [Stay with me, I'll get to it ...] Seemed at the time that clue was a career as a medical doctor would be the logical path. My parents too, they thought "Doctor" or "Lawyer". It was the aspirational goal for the next generation. They didn't ever use that word, though.

Turned out that at the time I wasn't enough of a committed student in college to even pass the MCAT medical school qualifying admission test. A blessing in disguise. Knowing what I know now; about actually working in the medical profession, and what I know about myself. Ick! Blood and guts!

So then, what to do?

After college graduation I took some evaluative tests offered at my university, the University of Detroit. Advertising was what rose to the surface. My generalist temperament fit well within a milieu with so many moving parts.  And, the idea of working in the Mecca of advertising in New York City was also very alluring. Martini's at lunch. Broadway. Downtown. Lutece. [That last place, where the chef hisself, André Soltner, came out of the kitchen to make it clear to us that his joint was not a place for a working "business lunch". Put the papers back in your bags, boys.] Babes. Evenings with cocktails and dinner aboard the Forbes yacht making a full circle around Manhattan. Sushi. And the big draw, being in on the action. Shaping the world, if you will. I could fill a book.

Eventually I set up appointments in the Big Apple and drove out by myself on the turnpike from hometown Detroit for interviews. It wasn't going so well. My last meeting was at J. Walter Thompson; then, the largest ad agency in the world, and oldest. Long story short ... the personnel interviewer asked me how my other meetings were going. I said, "Shitty". I was hired. My Mother always would say, "Honesty is the best policy". But, Ma! In advertising? Huh? Before being hired, I was flown out by JWT for a round of interviews with the top brass. They liked me! They really liked me. [At a junket week with a major client in Miami I won the "Big Fish" award. We went out on a charter and I caught a Tuna! Big fish, get it. Somehow I also thought that there was a metaphor at play. Like, I got hooked myself. Active paranoia gene.]

Fast forward twelve years later I'm walking to work at Doyle Dane Bernbach on Madison Avenue, and I say to myself, "I don't want to do this anymore". Simple as that. A small handful of months later I was out of it. Fired. Happily so. My supervisor took me out to dinner to fire me. I stopped him short for any explanation he was going to give. I told him that was bullshit I didn't need to hear. And, I wanted to get out anyway. As in, your fired! No! I quit. There was a Hand-of-God quality to this as I saw it. Just also like the ending of the marital blissard that was soon to follow.

So happens that at the very same time I took off the gray flannel suit my marriage of ten years also ended. That's a whole other story. Tragic, and sad. But, for me, necessary in retrospect; ultimately like it seems to have had to be. Let's just say I woke up in a sleeping situation. Wised up. Nothing against marriage. Just not something for sleeping assholes. Which, I was. Until, I wasn't. Or, so it seemed to me. Others may disagree on my current status. Funny how people can continue to see you out of their memory of you from a past time. Forgiveness. That's another matter. I could fill a book.

On with the story ...

So, now what to do? I hadn't prepared for living stripped of my very familiar roles and relationships. But, like I said, I did wake up. Woke up to the honest impulse within me to be true to myself, and be true in whatever it would be to be doing in the world. Instead of a career which to me boils down to getting-people-to-part-with-their-money, I wanted to get behind something that offered value. Real value. Not just a sip of pop to put a smile on your face. Something more than just a job to win the bread.

Interesting, this thread of "truth" running through my story. After more than a little soul searching I decided to train to be a Rolfer. My own experience of the results of that work was a big "WOW!" Not just a good idea, a great experience. One that lasts a lifetime, I might add. 

Now, in my 44rd year as such a "shaker and mover" I'm struck with how I finally wound up in a career that is all about integrity. It's called Structural Integration. 'Rolf" for Dr. Ida P. Rolf, the originator and teacher of the craft. 

Adding ... in that interview I was asked what was my goal in the Advertising business. I said I wanted to get my career good in the middle. Low and behold, when I left the Ad Biz, I see now that in fact I did achieve my goal. VP Account Supervisor. With three management tiers above me. Interesting too, that the career I moved to next is all about balance; which, in order to be, needs a middle. Wow! Talk about foreshadowing!

So now ...

Integrity, you ask? How's this for integrity?

Dr. Ida P. Rolf Method ... The Approach to Human Structural Integration. Balancing the Body With the Gravitational Field of the Earth.

There's the stamp of "truth" in that work. Like the line of Gravity matched up with the line of the body. Simple science really. Anatomically and according to Basic Physics. "Plumb & Square." Kapische?

In case it is lost on you, see how the Ad Man in me still goes for the pitch? As in, go ahead ... get in balance yourself. I could fill a book on this subject. But, for now, just consider how it might be if you live with your body in alignment with the prevailing Gravitational "wind". Easy, upright, present, vital, capable, responsible, true to yourself. To list a few.

Don't need no doctor's prescription for that, either. Besides, most likely this possibility of fostering such balance in the makeup of the Human body isn't something about which most doctors even have a clue. Yet. Big obstacle to that, the medical industry don't make no money on the cure; the money's in the medicine. 

Balancing your body, that's curative. And, I have the book on that! True dat!

 For all the other stuff from The Wronski ...

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The Secret To Dancing Between Raindrops ...

 THE EYE OF THE HEART

"All the great things of this world

are but snowflakes in a fiery furnace

and all the great opportunities of this world

are but dewdrops under a scorching sun.

Should I only daydream

in this world of illusion

and then just die?

Instead,

aloof from it all,

I will walk into

the world of

Eternal Truth."

- Ven SongChol personified the Zen dedication to being possessionless, leaving behind only a set of patchwork robes, a pair of glasses, a small library of books, and some great Dharma messages. His words resonate more with each passing day and provide a beacon light to this age of confusion. aimlessness and wandering.

"The Eye of the Heart has to become as clear as a mirror and brighter than the sun and the moon together. And we can achieve that not from without but from within, by rediscovering our clear, bright, spotless and original Self."

(text from the back of the book 'Opening the Eye')

𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐕𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢

 

Uncle Vertervert Vevano Wronski, aka "Whodatski" was in high demand in the Hollywood pre-war [WWII] film industry. In his own telling, "I don't take no backseat to no nobody!". 

Ironic. His trademark mistaken use of the double negative actually spoke to his place in Tinsel Town history. To add insult, never got a screen credit. Until this telling, you probably had been wondering ... who dat? 

Here he is with George Raft and Jimmy Cagney in the 1939 classic "Each Dawn I Die", literally ... taking the back seat. So it goes. He's a Wronski, and the tribe does have it's share of "Wrongski's".

It's a bit of a conundrum, him and his career. He was never for lack of work. But, always a true "Wrongski" in how consistently he got the sense of the scene off; way off. The rumor has it that was his strength. He was never hired to actually make it past the cutting room; only to bring some levity to the set. Which he did. Again, given his Polish genetics, he never got wind of it. Don't laugh, he made a nice living from it. He was a true exemplar of the adage, "If life gives you Lemons ... ".

At parties too. The life of. Don't ask. None of us other Wronski's can figure it out. He did bring the Kavorka. 

Witness ...

If you want to get all your Wronski "ON" ...

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Hey ... Jude!

Yesterday, December 18, 2023, at a local church near us we had the rare opportunity to venerate the “Arm of Saint Jude”. It is relic of a fragment of the actual arm bone of Apostle Jude. He walked with Jesus; and, that is, in every sense of the word.

Saint Jude is the much acclaimed “Saint of Impossible Causes”.

The relic has been venerated since ancient times. It is currently visiting from Rome on a 100 city pilgrimage in the United States.

The reliquary is modeled after the forearm in a posture of blessing.

Spend a moment and contemplate that historic relic is from an arm which was literally arm in arm with Christ.

It also wasn’t lost on me how it is positioned in the vertical. And, how that vertical blessing includes Gravity itself as a blessing.

What’s up! Hey, Jude!

𝐀𝐈 ... 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥?

AI ... Spawn of the Devil?

“We must realize that modern civilization is thoroughly oriented towards dehumanizing humanity in every possible way; that is to say, we are fast turning into robots or statues with no human souls. Our task is to get humanized once more.” — D. T. Suzuki

AI is for the ignorant. No, not like "ignorant" like you don't know something or other. But, this: "Ignorant", as in taking the false to be real, and the real to be false. Living distracted by the phantasmagoria. "Asshole" is the le mot juste on that.

The foundation basis for Artificial Intelligence is the idea that, if information is good, lots of it is better. And, what could be better than all the information, aggregated and considered by an oh-so-smart computer. Who would argue with that? A computer what got it's origin inputs from who knows and where.

As far as that goes, like it's a virtual cubby hole of all the known facts — can AI know any new facts, or just rearrange the facts that have already been inputted into it? 

Fine. Access to information is a good thing. Theoretically. But that depends on what one is accessing the information for what purpose. Or, will AI be able to suss the malefactors and deny access? And, having sussed, go shush to the bad guys. Depends, I suppose, on the ones that give AI it's marching orders. Bad guys are surely there to take advantage. And, even those with the best intentions, are they self aware enough and motivated to the Hightest Good; or are there skeletons in their closets under lock and key; but there nonetheless and operating under the surface. Unconscious little devils.

Having lots of facts, the right facts is smart. Intelligent, well that's what you do constructively with those facts. AI has no native intelligence in itself, but the intelligence foundation programmed into it. That's why I keep wondering if the folks who are jiggering the Brave New World of AI have their shit together. Shit in, shit out. 

So, Mr. AI, just what is the factor that will guarantee the things don't go shit? Not like we've ever seen that sort of thing before. Not. Or are we so saturated in our own ability to sort things out that we catapult headlong into every scientific and technical potentiality pridefully confident that we're smart enough to work out the kinks. I remember a US of A Secretary of Health or someone like that who would have solved the air quality problem by issuing the hoe polloi gas masks. A tech solution, not a Human one.

So, let's not ask AI by what standard guides its so-called intelligence, but by what standard are we Human guided? In a Godless society, suggesting a turning to God almost feels like a quaint sentiment.

Information. It is now God. If your car gets a flat it's good to know how the wheel is attached to the axle, which way to turn the nuts, and where to find the thingy what to turn said nuts, and the jack; and how the heck to work it so you don't kill yourself in the process. Like that. So too with how to get a rocket to the Moon. Information. And, good information. But, also the right information. It might be nice to know how to make a Pizza, but going to the Moon ... not relevant to the task. Kapische? Unless you're living in some future world where "WE DELIVER! TO THE MOON!"

The tell with AI is simple to read. As long as you're not all distracted with the endless permutations of acquiring practical knowledge, that is. The Achilles Heel of AI is ... it's artificial, bruh! Capische? Who said it: "All information is ignorance." To understand that little ditty, read I AM THAT by Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj.

The extra demonic in the mix is that somewhere along the line that so-called self-evolving AI has been birthed with some a-priori intellectual genetics. Who's? Good question. Some asshole somewhere set that algorithm in motion with who knows what level of self-awareness, wisdom, common sense, and intent . And, let's not minimize the real probability for some malevolent intent. Read the news. Even without full blown AI ... look at the mess! Field of mendacity!

Call it it's DNA. That one point ... intent; keep an eye on that. That's the fucker. Even the ones with the "good" intentions. What could possibly go wrong putting all your eggs in that basket? And, who's to say that those ones pulling the strings are self-aware enough to be vigilant over their unconscious drivers. 

Oh, you say, there'll be checks and balances. But, who's watching the watchers? And, with so much mendacity afoot, you can bet someone(s) somewhere(s) gonna try to game the system. For good, for naught. If something goes awry, let's be sure to have a thorough investigation. Get back to you on that in a few years, and millions of dollars. Meanwhile ... 

How's this for a scenario? So, everything you do is pretty much in some database or other. Right now. Your profile. What you watch, how often, your preferences. What you buy, how much, which brands. Even this article; that is, if loads of people started to look in on Wronski's Wramblings. Success has it downsides. Where you go even — my auto insurance rates are linked to an in-car app which tracks trips and rates my driving. I got nothin' to hide, so why not; it saves me some bucks. But, it also gives a clue about me in terms of how I'm gettin' along in the world. What makes me tick.

Now imagine that all that information on little ol' me is sorted into some AI algorithm's analysis of who I am. As can be described in words, that is. Then aggregated into groupings of one sort of other with others of similar ilk. Now I belong to a category. Herded into a herd? Then AI can profile the categories to discern common denominators for any particular group. What are our wants and needs? What are our triggers? What's it gonna take to get me into that car today? In politics, whoa! That AI can tailor messaging to me right in the privacy of my own home via television or internet telling me just what I need to hear to get me to vote in a predictable way. This tech makes the old demographic sorting from my Mad Ave Ad Biggie days look like cave man scratching. Seems now, the system can literally tailor messaging directly to me; not just me in a group of millions. Just me. 

Or, to get me to buy some stuff. Imagine with all the propagandizing and indoctrination already being churned out, imagine the wonderful potential to get my party into office with just a flick of the finger to get my confirmation biases ticking.

Talk about "Manufacturing Consent."

By the time we realize that AI has taken us down yet another historic rabbit hole, finding the devil in the details will be impossible; and, quite possibly pointless. The problem isn't so much AI, it's our attachment to the tools of AI. This screen you're reading this on, to point to the obvious.

Who's to blame? Oh, that old spin? Really? Praise and blame? That currency has always been worthless, but look how long it's taken us to grok that! Have we?Maybe even some who are reading this will scratch their heads wondering what the F I'm talking about. I'm scratching my head wondering how come something that obvious gets past seeing. Just look at the political scene. One side saying the other will be the doom of us. The other talking doom too. Praise and blame. It'll be our doom. Or, same spin ... "right and wrong". 

Fuck all! There's gotta be a better way?!

So, artificial intelligence. What's the problem. In short, for all its promise, it can very easily usher in the Brave New World. Everything sewn up nice and neat. Everybody drinking the same Kool-Aid.

What about the devil in it? As I would put it that the fall of Man, the Original Sin, was embracing the idea that "I can do it myself". Now, all this way from Adam and Eve, we're essentially still saying "we can do it all". Now, though, we got all the info to get it done. And, done right! Just another kind of "Apple", don't it seem? 

Poem for Judgement Day: WE DID IT ALL/WE DID IT ALL/ WE DID IT ALL/ AND THAT/AND THAT/AND THAT AND.

That Creator Guy, thank you very much! Just stay on your heavenly throne. Now we can handle it ourselves from now on. Simple as that. If you think we live in a Godless world, look at the news. The devil is in the details. And AI is all about details. Such a temptation: Information will save us. [Not.]

So, Pilgrim, let me ask you ... who's [information]. And, answer me this, how much information does it take to be wise? Or, is life just about knowing how to fix a flat? It is, in a way. But, who is it what's doing the fixing in the first place? Who am I, really. Who are you? AI ain't gonna give that answer. It'll give you an answer; but it'll be ersatz. 

AI ain't gonna answer that question. Yet, without the answer to that question, we are doomed. Where to turn? All the acquired Wisdom of the World says just one thing ... look within. Simple as that. Yet, we go for complicated. And, out there. And, AI is nothing if not complicated. And, nothing about anything but "out there". Lots of devilish details.

As for me, I'll stick with the Akashic Record. Everything about everything ... ever. Makes AI look like the Tower of Babel. Which in a very real sense is exactly what it is. Just to pull the plug and it ceases to exist. Like Ol' Lot and his family in the Bible, hard to turn away. His Missus gives us a clue on the consequences.

So, here's the thing. AI obviously has it's benefits. How the world works. Sure.  Downsides ... plenty. No God there; except it's just a word. Like Marshall McLuhan says, with every new medium, something is gained ... and, something is lost. Not sure yet what is lost. Maybe it's a firm grasp of the obvious? Hold that thought. Maybe Socrates would say that what is lost is the honest fact that we really don't know. But, who goes around proud of not knowing. Seems the one who knows the most, the best, gets to win the day. 

As they say about Truth ... it's True. What's Real is True. No need for defense or explanation. Beyond argument. Like, when the Sun is up. Plain to see. Just to see it for what it is. The trick to get at that is to give up being distracted. And, guess what? AI is the big distraction. That "Apple" again. Just to see the false, as false. 

Big hint from The Man, Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj: "Nothing you perceive is you. Nothing you perceive is your own." 

Bottom line ... is there anything beyond AI. Well, as that Man says, AI lives in the realm of perception. Hint. Hint. And, by its own admission, it's "artificial".

Dear Israel ...

 

Who Am I? Asked ... and, answered. Definitively.

Questioner: I am what I know myself to be.

Nisargdatta Maharaj: You cannot possibly say that you are what you think yourself to be!

Your ideas about yourself change from day to day and from moment to moment. Your self-image is the most changeful thing you have. It is utterly vulnerable, at the mercy of a passer by. A bereavement, the loss of a job, an insult, and your image of yourself, which you call your person, changes deeply.

To know what you are you must first investigate and know what you are not. And to know what you are not you must watch yourself carefully, rejecting all that does not necessarily go with the basic fact: ‘I am’. The ideas: I am born at a given place, at a given time, from my parents and now I am so-and-so, living at, married to, father of, employed by, and so on, are not inherent in the sense ‘I am’. 

Our usual attitude is of ‘I am this’.

Separate consistently and perseveringly the ‘I am’ from ‘this’ or ‘that’, and try to feel what it means to be, just to be, without being ‘this’ or ‘that’.

All our habits go against it and the task of fighting them is long and hard sometimes, but clear understanding helps a lot. The clearer you understand that on the level of the mind you can be described in negative terms only, the quicker you will come to the end of your search and realize your limitless being.

[From 'I Am That' Chapter 18]

From a Christian perspective ...

Taxi Dave 2023

 

Every annum during the October run up to Halloween Taxi Dave goes to streets to meet the zeitgeist in his trusty classic Checker Taxi. Come along for the ride. Daily recounts. Weekly updates. You never know ...

Look out! Here he comes ...

"Loaded for Bear" ...

As of now ... So, what's so?

Who's that? Well, that's our good friend Elmer Fudd. Oh, and Judge Arthur Engoron; he's presiding over 45's — that pesky wabbit —  NYC trial early October 2023. All in good fun, right Judge? 

"Tray"? "Tay-Vis"? "Tra-Tay"? 

Ain't love grand. I'm sold!

"Where to, your Holiness?"

"Nowhere, in particular."

"I can't go far, the tank's nearly empty."

"Don't stop! Let's get there!"

Today this post is on October 10, 2023. Grim news. I am at a loss to do anything other than to stay quiet and sit with the Peace in my heart. No place for smart, witty, cute, humor. Time for our tears.

October 11, 2023: The truth is we are riding our lives in a vast and infinite peace. Let's not let our worst doings even our best, for that matter distract from that innate reality. What's done is in the rear view mirror. But, you say, look at the news! ... There'll be more war tomorrow. Maybe so. But, we can go into tomorrow with our eyes for peace. As Jackson Browne put it: take it easy ... "don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy. " 

"Take your stand"

It's worldwide "paddidle" day!

When I was dating spotting one and exclaiming "paddidle! " required a kiss.

We're all growed up now. When you see one ... just love the one you're with.

And, just so you don't get the idea that it's just for when you're on the road ... On the road of life, just look up at the moon. "Paddidle! "

The "Ring of Fire" annular eclipse last Saturday, October 14 in the Yucatan peninsula at Chichen Itza. Last one seen there was 400 years ago.

Probably a gazillion interpretations. An omen. A harbinger of a new era dawning. A portal for some bad shit to come on in.

For your Taxi Dave ... It was one jackpot fare!

We be needin' some "Durga" arounchere.

The nine days of Navrati ... Sunday, October 15, 2023  next Tuesday, the 24th.

It's a party! Everyone's coming.

Dark times ...

Narrow as F tunnel, poor visibility, driving on one's own light.

So, Pilgrim, let me ask you ... By what light are you driving?

Maybe more to the point ... Who's your driver?

Word of the year? Word for the age!

The roadmap has been well known for centuries ...

To whom it may concern ...

Question: is the promised land just on a map?

Question: is jihad just with fists?

The really Big Gun is on both sides. Just gotta meet in the middle.

In the Holy Land it's not about cows ... it's about people.

▀▄▀▄▀▄ 𝕟ㄖ 𝐟ＥαŘ ▄▀▄▀▄▀

THERE'S MORE!

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Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche

Join us today [October 3, 2023] in remembering and celebrating Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of the greatest Buddhist masters of the 20th century, on this 32nd anniversary of his passing. 

He was renowned as a highly accomplished meditation master, scholar, poet and a principal holder of the Nyingma lineage. Practices are taking place across the world today paying homage to Rinpoche and his vast vision.

Do not forget the Lama

Pray to him at all times.

Do not forget death

Persist in Dharma.

Do not be carried away by thoughts

Watch the nature of mind.

Do not forget sentient beings

With compassion dedicate your merit to them.

~Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞

 

Who's the babe, right? That's the flower of the Wronski genetic wonder garden. In her own words: "So, big boy, you be wantin' my Polish love? It's like a dill pickle to the heart!"

The wedding was a shebang. The working side of my Uncle's huge bakery was the "hall". Big lofty ceiling, huge rectangular worktable in the center. [That work table had enough room for twelve or so workers kneading dough. It was never that busy; but you get the idea.] Chairs and folding tables scattered around. Recorded music and dancing. Men in the corner shooting craps. Serve yourself to the drinks. Kids running around like maniacs, playing in the nooks and crannies, even hiding in the cabinets in the front selling area. Lots of home cooked food on that center work table. In short ... a Polish wedding.

A Polish wedding with all the usuals ... tossing the bouquet, sliding the garter off, first dance, cutting the cake. We're Polish, after all! Not barbarians. [Though given half a chance and enough Vodka, any dern one of us would not hesitate to jump on a war horse and ride galloping in the moonlight through a Birch forest ... bareback, and bare assed. The Wronski's do have their ways.]

Some other traditions have crept into "Wronski" wedding celebrations. "Beat Babcha." That's where the Groom gets to show his stuff by wrestling dear old Babcha Wronski best two out of three. "You Can't Drink All That!?" Just what you would think it is. Just that in the Wronski way, everybody is playing. Just, don't talk politics. Or, the kids' favorite, "IT." Which looks a lot like kids either not to be seen since they're all hiding somewhere; or, kids running full tilt hither and thither among the assorted adults and tables.

What about Cousin Lottie? Did she get into any action? [Well, she certainly did, later that evening. But, we only have the sounds of crashing and screaming from their bedroom to figure what, the what?] At the reception, though, the family tradition for the Bride is to arm wrestle all the females at the shindig. If she beats all them, then she gets to arm wrestle the men. If she beats all them, then the only one that's left is the Groom. I'm gonna stop right there. We don't talk about the what if's following which one wins, the Bride or the Groom. That enters into the very complex and deep Akashic mystery that is the Wronski brood.

Wherever you are right now, go throw some Rice. Even if it's in your imagination. 

If you want to get all your Wronski "ON" CLICK on this.

XXX in College Biology [It's Downright Dirty ... Be Advised]

The Broth of Their Own Desire

Based on some true events, somewhat fantasized. 

XXX Advisory

He fucked her twice. First, the old fashioned way. If you can call all the nasty gymnastics "old fashioned". Let's just leave it that the term refers to his sumthin' goin' in to her sumthin'. 

The second fucking ... that was leaving her to foot the bill for the room service. And, by room service we're here talking about the Caviar, Oysters, and Champagne. Lots. Definitely not the "service", as in the fucking and sucking. 

Fucked twice? She was served twice too!

They were young. Hot blooded. She was a babe. He was a stud. Lab partners in Comparative Anatomy. She asked if he could show her around the reproductive anatomy of a feline specimen. In plain terms, the pussy on that pussy.

He obliged. Played it straight. Hard to figure a girl doesn't know what's going on down there. But, don't assume. Otherwise, all sorts of difficulties could ensue if he took it that this was some kind of come on. Maybe some kind of joke, since a bunch of girls gathered around to view the practical examination he provided on that cute little dead pussy. That is, of that pussy. On, that pussy.

Turns out that female kitties have the similar anatomy to human females in the nasty department. 

The science part taken care of, he proposed an after school practical. Just him, and all those scientifically inquisitive females. Like we said, he wasn't quite sure if there was an undercurrent agenda to a group of girls asking him to show them around the pussy parts of a kitty. Not one, however, to miss a potential opportunity, he made the offer. They accepted. 

It turned out to be quite the "practical". And by "practical" we're talking about classic show and tell. Not just some academic bunch of words. Show me yours, and I'll show you mine. 

Did. And, done.