Heres an interesting interview which includes the quote, along the top shelf, up there, there are single eyes from Charlie Chaplin, Charles Dickens, and Charles Lindberg, I call them the three Charlies, and an unauthenticated but highly possible complete set from Edgar Allan Poe. (The fellow being interviewed buys and sells the body parts of famous individuals.)
On the subject of reader letters, I also just got this note. Its from Natalie in New York.
to add to the continuing creature coverage (which i’ve appreciated):
the new york times has dragons tattooed on the front of its science section today.
the writer can’t admit that they might have existed, but he (or the editor) does give the last word to someone who challenges the explanation that dragons were just exaggerated crocodiles, leaving the conclusion inconclusive:
“But David Quammen, an independent scholar writing a book about the relationship between indigenous peoples and their predators, points out that although draconian crocodiles appear in the mythology of Australian aborigines, dragons are just as common in the myths of Vikings, who might have been eaten by bears, but never by crocs. And dragon lore is rare in Africa, where crocs are common, but predator myths revolve more around lions and hyenas.”
another interesting tidbit from the article is the theory from hundreds of years ago explaining how these animals came into being:
“Dragons were clearly a hybrid, part snake, part bird and part bat. In the 17th century, they were explained by the newly popular ‘spermatick principle,’ which held that semen formed creatures and that the egg was a mere food source. Sometimes, scholars surmised, sperm from different species could mix and make a monster.
“Mr. Lhwyd of the Oxford museum argued that semen from fish and snakes could rise high into the air with evaporation, rain down again and end up in the high aeries of eagles and vultures. In a lucky process called ‘fermentational putrefaction,’ the mix could produce a winged snake.”
pretty great, huh?
we should bring back the word “spermatick.”* looking in the dictionary, I realize we have retained “spermatic,” but nobody uses that to help describe the interesting things going on out there. i think the k is required for gravity’s sake, to weigh down the word.
* spermatickos is a new breakfast cereal featuring toasted dragons, rocs, and free-floating elephant-bird eggs and mammoth tusks.
I have the perfect image to use here, something my friend in Chicago sent to me yesterday, but I’m forcing myself not to post it. Some things just push the boundaries of decency too far. Theres a line that I wont cross, even on the internet.
While I wont post the photo here, I will tell you what the image was of. Its a photo of a man who had transformed his penis, though the art of tattoo, into a hideous cock-necked dragon. The dragon is bright green, with red wings that spread across the man’s stomach. The tail starts at his belly button and ends with a head at the tip of his cock, which is covered in tattooed scales. The eyes of the dragon, on either side of the cock, are formed by metal bolts. It is one of the saddest, scariest things I have ever seen. I just pray that it isnt something my friend saw with her own eyes.
(Actually, this friend told me that the picture is something her boyfriend found while searching on-line for information on a guitar. Im not exactly sure how that works. Ive searched on-line for guitars in the past and my searches have never yielded close-up cock photos.)
I just got this note from Terry and thought that I’d share it with you all, as it pertains to sucking hot milk from old goat nipples and ogling the young Princess Leia in her metal bikini. “These are things,” I thought, “that everyone should know about.”
Hey Mark. Did you catch Fear Factor last night? One of the stunts had the participants sucking on a goat’s nipple, spitting the milk into a glass and then drinking it. Does this cross the line into beastiality? They didn’t actually show the people’s mouths on the nipple though. Maybe they’re saving it for the home video. None of the women made it past this stunt so I was a little disappointed.
I keep meaning to send you some links but I figure you’ve already seen them on fark or metafiller or whatever. Here’s one a friend sent me. It’s fans dressed up as Princess Leia in Return Of The Jedi.
Pretty cool stuff, Terry. Thanks for sharing. (And always send me links you think the readers of MM.com would like. I’d rather hear about something a few times than not at all.)
Here, everyone is a photo from the Princess Leia metal bikini archive. (note: If I had an intern who knew how to use Photoshop, right now you’d be looking at my head on her body. You’re lucky I don’t have an intern, and that I don’t know how to use a computer.)
Here, my dear readers, is a little glimpse into the world of a young Canadian girl… When things get stressful, I often try to think of myself as a young Canadian girl. Lately, Ive been doing it a lot. Its something I started doing back in the 80s, when
Degrassi Junior High used to play here in the states on PBS At any rate, heres your chance to join me. (note: It is my philosophy that every middle-aged, male, American office worker, regardless of race, religion or sexual orientation, should nurture the small Canadian girl within.)
I wanted to share a story with you Mark…I know you are precisely the kind of person who can understand the way nostalgia tugs at your heartstrings (and sometimes makes you gag). I was watching a movie last night and there was a picture of Jesus — you know, the real “white bread” Jesus with rosy cheeks. Near the end of the film the picture went up in flames, but that’s not my story. It made me remember how at Christmas my brother and I would take the Nativity Scene figures, set them up at the end of the coffee table, and shoot them off it with our dart guns. You would get the most points for sending the baby Jesus flying, because he was the smallest. If you could shoot him out of the cradle, without knocking the little bed itself off of the end, you really ruled. My mom caught us at this activity one day and was appalled (and no doubt thought us blasphemers). However, not much later I saw her boiling something on the stove. When I peeked in the pot, what did my eyes behold but a bunch of Nativity Scene figures, bobbing at the top of the hot water like perogies! I tried to get her to admit that she was a hypocrite, but she informed me, frowning, that the (bad bad) dog had pissed on the Nativity “shack” as we called it, and she was sterilizing the three wise men and the Savior himself. Jesus did not fare well at our house. The shepherd boy had better luck. I miss those days of (sacrificial) wine and insults.
Id like to thank Sandra for sharing that story. (If I knew how to design, I’d illustrate this story with an image of a dog lifting its leg on a nativity “shack,” but I don’t know how to do that. So, here’s a plain old, non-urine-drenched image.)
For more on all these fine Bulb bands, please come back tomorrow. Ive been blogging too long today and my hands are numb. Thats how I know when it’s time to stop.
