Mcfeat deleted his Facebook post and wrote:
“I would like to take the opportunity to sincerely appologise [sic] for the comment I made on here about the kygyz people and horses penis. I truly never meant to offened anyone and im truly sorry as it was never my intension [sic].”I would have thought miners would joke around pretty crudely and any offense would be worked out amongst themselves and that calling the horse sausage "horse penis" would be perfectly normal and funny to everyone, like saying "shit on a shingle" in the Army. But maybe there's something different about putting it up on Facebook, especially in English, inviting outsiders to laugh at them.
As for offal, I assume penis is included. Why would you waste it? From what I've heard about horses, you'd be wasting a lot of meat.
There's a long Wikipedia entry for "offal," including details from many places in the world, but not Kyrgyzstan. There is an entry for Britain that begins:
In medieval times, "Humble pie" (originally, "Umble pie") made from animal innards (especially deer) was a peasant food and is the source of the commonly used idiom "eating humble pie", although it has lost its original meaning as meat pies made from offal are no longer referred to by this name...Penis only comes up for the Caribbean (Cow cod soup is a traditional Jamaican dish made with bull penis") and China (Extractions of animal penises and testes are still believed to contribute to better male performance and those of the embryo and uterus to the eternal youth of the female).
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When I was in the Navy, (a bazillion years ago) when it was especially rough, or the cook got lazy, we had Bologna sandwiches and Green Kool-Aid. The bologna was cut from a huge two foot long tube of it. We called menu choice "Horse cock & bug juice."
Since we didn't have any 7th century cretins on-board, no one objected or got arrested.
I don't see the FB post anywhere. I suspect that the local male miners might take note of the verb used. Among most males, there might be an attitude difference if the verb implied consumption of said horse penis, versus sucking/swallowing of same...
YMMV
It says he deleted the post.
I'll go with rwnutjob here. Standard term for bologna in the USMC during WWII was "horsecock". Cultural appropriation here by the miners.
I suppose a visiting worker must not denigrate the locals, especially if the visiting worker hails from a place with a superior standard of living.
Prediction: Money changes hands, and charges are dropped.
If he was a Trump, he would post back "Eat me!"
The internet is a crude tool for human communication.
My uncle in Chicago used to go to an old river raft Polish delicatessen for a delicacy blood sausage that he called "Horsecock" sausage. The little store was on raft in the Calumet River near the steel mills.
I was out on the jobsite with the superintendent one Sunday morning, picking up litter and looking things over, and I asked him what was the problem between Paul, my inspector who I thought the world of, and the guys, and he said that Paul had laughed at them and called them this that and the other. I said: "Oh, come on Lloyd, I have called you lots of worse things than that!" And he said: "Yeah, but you don't say it the way he does!"
There are cultural differences you have to be careful about, or the guys will take offense and begin acting like twelve year old girls.
What is worse is the Tofu Horse Penis.
It doesn't taste anything like the real thing.
Damn Kygyz Vegetarians.
I am Laslo
Rocky Mountain Oysters are a staple in the Food Network hit show "Chopped".
In medieval times, "Humble pie" (originally, "Umble pie") made from animal innards (especially deer) was a peasant food and is the source of the commonly used idiom "eating humble pie", although it has lost its original meaning as meat pies made from offal are no longer referred to by this name...
Steve Marriott's father, Bill, had an outdoor jellied eel stand. I'll bet they tasted offal.
I don't know...if I were a foreigner working in a Krgyz mine, surrounded by the local talent, I would be a little more circumspect in my horsing around.
Uh oh, he apologized. He will now his life destroyed.
As for offal, I assume penis is included. Why would you waste it? From what I've heard about horses, you'd be wasting a lot of meat.
Ahem!
Oops. He got schlonged.
Should have called it vulvalogna.
A horse walks into a bar in Kyrgyzstan.
The bartender looks at the horse and asks, "Why the long face?"
The horse says, "Some Brits told me Chuchuk is made from horse penises."
The bartender says, "Ewwww...."
I am reading a book, "Yemen - The Undknown Arabia" by a Brit, kind of a hippie, but chewing qat instead of smoking pot, who seems to have been getting along capitally with the Yemenis for 30-odd years now, but on their terms, i.e., he is a Christian Brit and they are Moslem Yemeni, but exchange insults in a friendly fashion to show they understand each other.
Incidentally, Arabic seems to be an odd language. The author quotes somebody saying that in Arabic, every word means itself, the opposite, and a camel. This is seems to be literally true for rash, which he says means "to eat much," "to eat little," and "a camel hairy behind the ears."
"This caused a temporary strike at the mine. The crime charged is racial hatred." What, pray tell, would be the "race" that is the object of hatred here? The Kyrgyz race or the religion-of-peace race?
"I would have thought . . ." You would have, but then, you are not a Muslim Kyrgyz miner.
My dad always called Vienna sausages monkey dicks.
The sentence is automatically doubled for misspelling Kyrgyzstan.
I wonder how chuchuk got its name. If asked to guess I'd say it comes from the sound ones body makes when it rejects that obviously vile victual.
That that hapless Briton has been compelled to grovel rhetorically before the world for his harmless and probably accurate Facebook comment surprises me very little because the Kyrgyz are some of the most backward people on the planet. An independent Kyrgyzstan is perhaps one of the few downsides to the fall of the Soviet empire; without the restraining influence of the Great Russians Kyrgyzstan has been more trouble than it's worth. Lately some Kyrgyz tribes have renewed their ancient blood feud with their traditional foes, the Chinese Uyghur (pronounced WIGGUR), which has manifested in cross-border livestock raiding and some killings.
My first awareness of the Kyrgyz people dates to my early teens when my interest in falconry began to bloom. Long before I applied for an apprenticeship I studied everything written on the subject I could get get my hands on, which included an ethnographic study of the falconers of the Tien Shan mountains. These people hunt wolves with eagles -- and not just any eagles, they train and fly berkuts, the largest members of the Golden Eagle clan. Female berkuts can weight up to 20 pounds, which is enormous for a flying bird. Traditional Kyrgyz falconry involves temporarily blinding the eagle by sewing its eyelids shut! They don't do this anymore, but the adoption of the humane and ancient practice of hooding is very recent. When proselytizing Arabs first contacted the Krygyz tribes they tried to introduce more humane traditions, but with little success. Islam for all its modern faults has historically deplored needless cruelty to animals, and the fact that a thousand years of Islamic belief altered the Krygyz attitude toward animals very little suggests how stubbornly parachronistic they can be.
My uncle in Chicago used to go to an old river raft Polish delicatessen for a delicacy blood sausage that he called "Horsecock" sausage.
I had black pudding for breakfast once in Scotland, which I enjoyed until I learned what it was made of. Since then I have avoided blutwurst and other blood products, perhaps to my detriment. It's interesting that American cuisine excludes that source of protein which many other cultures prize. I suppose it comes from the abundance our land and culture has given us -- thus no need to use the whole hog. Perhaps I'll seek out the Polish version. It seems that whatever dish the Germans have has a Polish counterpart which is typically more tasty and visually appealing.
Quaestor, have you read David Bruce's Bird of Jove? It's about a Berkut adopted by a Welshman and eventually tamed.
And, yes, I think seeling is still a thing, though hooding is the norm.
Look at the professor, making with the dick jokes!
Michelle, I know of the book, but I haven't read it. It's out of print, is it not?
What little I've read are English translations of monographs by the late Russian ethnographer Saul Matvei Abramzon. He describes how captured berkuts are doped with opium smoke and then seeled with sutures made from lamb's intestines. To train their eagles to hunt wolves the Kyrgyz falconers tie a butchered hare to the back of a large dog. Then the nearly starved eagle is allowed to pounce on the dog to get the offered meat. The dog naturally reacts defensively. About half the time it is the eagle that get fatally mauled by the dog, which the Kyrgyz take no more notice of than our own pit bull fighting morons do of one of their dogs getting killed in training -- good riddance to and rubbish seems to be the maxim. Otherwise the eagle kills the dog and thus learns to kill an animal they normally wouldn't hunt.
I'd prefer not to get on the wrong side of people like that.
There's actually no muscle in penis. It's made of a spongy tissue that can hold a lot of blood. (That's why I pass out so much). This is why penis reconstruction can only be successfully done with other penis tissue, as it doesn't exist anywhere else in the human body. I assume the same is with horses.
In my country horse penis penis is, how you say, delicacy. Is to serving with white sauce. My wife is to loving horse penis of every day. What a country!
Stay out of barbarous places.
This definitely includes places so intent on seeming sophisticated that they'll put you in the clink for calling them horse penis eaters
Here's some useless information (a Quaestor speciality, no?) about horse penises. (Althouse broached the subject, so blame her.) Read on if you dare...
The stallion's "tool" is held in a cavity called the sheath where it stays hidden and safe from flying hooves until erection. Most male horses, even breeding stallions, don't let the penis down even to urinate. Generally it stays in the sheath until a more appealing sheath is available. This creates a health problem for horses, and a rather disgusting chore for horse owners. It's not so bad for stallion owners, but since a gelding seldom if ever experience an erection its sheath tends to collect a mass of shed skin detritus which has the consistency and appearance of asphalt tar and the stink of nothing else in nature. I suppose one could call it equine smegma, but I'd rather not call it anything, which partly explains my preference for mares.
Anyhoo... Not only does it stink, it actually makes a sound! Perhaps some of my readers may recall watching someone exercise a horse and hearing a peculiar grunt-grunt-grunt sound as it trots by. That's not coming from the animal's vocal apparatus; it's coming from its dick, and it means the repulsive ritual of sheath cleaning is overdue. The Vagina Monologues is pure fiction and gratingly unfunny to boot, but the Horse Dick Monologues are real. I've heard them all too often, and believe me when I say they make more sense than that play. You may thank me to learn that I shall not describe sheath cleaning except to note that it is one of those tasks undocumented immigrants were put on this earth to perform.
Italian breakfast food.
Quaestor,
OOP almost certainly. I bought my copy in the late 70s, and it's half falling apart now. Still: Amazing.
I'm not going to bat for Kyrgyz hunters. Except that "nearly starved" is pretty much any hunting bird when it hunts. There are basically three states: Sated, starving, and dead.
You're citing Wikipedia as a source, but if the subject is so sensitive in Kyrgyzstan, isn't itpossible that Kyrgyz have been reticent posting about it there, or that their government has censored it? For all we know, the Kyrgyzstani secret services have a special unit for investigating horse-penis-related crimes against the people. Even sillier things happen with official sanction on certain American college campuses, after all.
There are basically three states: Sated, starving, and dead.
A skilled falconer with an accurate beam balance, good records of food intake, a rigorous schedule, and some graph paper can get good flights from birds that are merely "interested" rather than starved. One must keep in mind that in nature only about 20% of hunts are successful. Consequently no raptor can afford just sit and wait until the pangs of starvation are critical before seeking a kill. Otherwise they'd have gone extinct long ago. The challenge of the modern falconer is too understand his bird's individual metabolism in detail. With proper methodology one can predict when the hunting urge will peak to within an hour or two. Some falconers can hit that mark almost to the minute. Right now researchers are working on non-invasive ways to monitor a hawk's blood nutrient levels. One idea involves measuring CO2/O2 ratios in waste and exhalation. The Kyrgyz probably rely on much cruder methods to judge their eagles' set, such as the the condition of the keel, whether the feature are roused or flat, whether the eagle looks at the falconer or toward the horizon, etc. I would imagine an eagle, even a berkut, would have to feel the compulsion of extreme hunger in order to attack something as large and as formidable as a canid.
This reminds me of the South Park episode with Kanye and "fish sticks".
In the Navy the "mystery meat" sandwiches were called "horse cock sandwiches." Or at least they were 20 years ago. Probably can't do that today.
Very little is effectively out of print these days. David Bruce's Bird of Jove is available in good-condition hardcover from ABEbooks.com (the Advanced Book Exchange, a consortium of 10,000 used bookstores) for less than $4 along with 0 shipping charge.
I assume the Commonwealth has sent Sacha Borat-Cohen as an emissary to extricate his fellow Briton's tit from the proverbial wringer.
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