Wednesday, May 31, 2006

passengers in amber

Martha, the last passenger pigeon, replicated in amber to the power of 9 or something.

What do you think the guy that felled the last tree on Easter Island was thinking at the time? “better get this one before someone else does”, “timber!” -probably something like that. I guess he might have said a prayer.
ok, and what was the 14 year-old in Ohio thinking 100 Marches ago when he shot down the last wild passenger pigeon? “hot damn!” most likely.

there used to was billions of ‘em! flying around in 300 square mile flocks that took days to pass over at 60 mph. ideal for target practice, food, feed and fertilizer. dead ones shipped around the country by the boxcarload.

Martha turned out to be the last of the last, namesake of the first first lady. when they found her dead on the floor in Cincinnati, they entombed her in a giant ice block bound for the Smithsonian. that was on my birthday in 1914. in a final act of benevolent coextinction, Martha had taken 2 species of lice with her into genetic oblivion. the bird lice somehow did come back though, a lousy little miracle.

like I said, here she is, casted and kebabbed in amber by Rachel Berwick.

You remember when Richard Attenborough is brandishing his amber-headed cane and Jeff Goldblum is all like, “life finds a way” and stuff. pterodactyls everywhere! admit it, you were scared too. no way they’d ever let 550 real pigeons near that hardwood, illuminated and angelic as they look.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

sentient root gnarls

ok, I’ll be straight with you here. all I know is that a man was on his way to somewhere else when he saw a crew unearthing a quarry of gnarled tree roots. well, our man pulled right over and struck a deal to get his hands on those roots. you see, he simply had to have them. actually the man didn’t see roots at all. he saw grotesque, Goyesque figures begging him for glass eyes, varnish and whimsical feathered caps. I think he might have whittled on them a bit too. there are like 15 in all.

now they’re upstairs in the same room as those bears. last time I went to check in on them the door was nailed shut. no kidding.

the root goblins also bear an uncanny resemblance to little Otik. who became a real boy and ate the whole Czech town. doors get nailed shut for a reason.

Monday, May 29, 2006

will everyone please remove your hats and sandals for a moment

that will do. thanks, you look great.

James Hampton: Director of Special Projects for the State of Eternity

This could be a self-timed shot since nobody really saw this stuff while James was alive. he had said something to Meyer, the guy who rented him the garage space. James had told Meyer, “that’s my life. I’ll finish it before I die.”
every night, after finishing his swing shift as a janitor, he would head to the garage and work until dawn. he was making The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations’ Millennium General Assembly; which is like 10 feet tall and hundreds of … (anyhow, you can see the picture). man, look at it! magnificent! St. James looks like a baron with cufflinks and pinky rings or something. ornate treasures, doubloons, Escalades, carbuncle bling and rich stuff. the elaborate stockroom of a merchant of jagged metals. but he made it all from secondhand furniture, foil, spent light bulbs, cardboard, glass fragments and junk, held together with pins and glue, under God’s direction and for His glory. now you can go see it at the Smithsonian in DC.
James Hampton didn’t have any close friends and he never married or had much money. why don’t you take another look at the picture? if he ever had anything like a resume it could have looked something like this, or better this. James also wrote notebooks full of his revelations in his own encrypted script, if you’d like to take a crack at it.

check him out-
St. James the Janitor- Steve Marshall
the Miracle of St. James Hampton –Mike Walsh

Saturday, May 27, 2006

waiting room as a metaphor for being

“yepper, seems we’re locked in here for the duration. sir, your ulna should have plenty of time to heal, that is if our oxygen holds out.”

“really doc. I find it hard to believe that your x-radiation device can penetrate flesh and sinew, yet we find ourselves trapped behind a foam-core door.”

Eusebio’s thoughts took him back to that lucid early morning in the cloister so many years ago in Salamanca. but today, his car wrecked, and now this. what was God trying to tell him?

“no way! Vo5 hot oil does a shower treatment now?”

Friday, May 26, 2006

esl accident

actual questions (for real)
what do you think happened?
wha are they going to do next?
how do you think he feels?
in your estimation was the youngster neglectful?
do you think the child was wrong?
(why/why not?)

beta version
should they call the police?
should they call the asbestos lawyers?
which side of the property line is that marijuana bush growing on?
how do you think the Chevy feels?
will the police in a quiet Massachusetts suburb know a marijuana bush when they see it at the scene? (explain)
is this an appropriate time to be thinking about marijuana?
do you think the crossing guard should be able to keep her job?
(why/why not?)

advanced students:
if this is a gender studies experiment for hand placement in times of crisis, what can we deduce?

Thursday, May 25, 2006

a virtual diorama for Lyndon Graham

Lyndon Graham (1906-1986) was a “lifetime resident of Fairview,” Utah. he was also the custodian of the town schoolhouse. in his spare time Lyndon wrote poems, collected rocks, painted pictures, carved wood and stone, and made enormous dioramas, most of these centering around some kind of carriage. it seems he was really keen on carriages.

his paintings are of Gypsies, Indians (eastern and western), and Victorians. and his stuff is now enshrined at the Fairview museum, which is sheltered in that old schoolhouse. there’s the cigar store Indian he carved. there’s also his big diorama with the scale model of the Taj Mahal made out of little blocks he cut from local alabaster. horse-drawn hearses, Egyptian chariots, Napoleon’s and Cinderella’s carriages with hand carved horses. it’s all there; got its own room and everything.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

don't touch the janitor!

we only spent about 3 hours in Milwaukee and one of the first things that met us there was Duane Hanson’s Janitor, 1973. weary and introspective, he invites a close inspection while emanating personal space. so I went up to compare keys with him. that’s when a crazy lady started screaming “don’t touch the janitor! don’t touch the janitor! don’t touch the janitor!” from the mezzanine. nobody’s touching the janitor ma'm, it’s ok.

she was crazy because she was wearing pink gloves and a big white sweater in the heat, and because she yelled at me a bunch. also, I saw her at other moments wrangling with the real museum guards and curators. but there’s nothing crazy about looking after the janitor. when I was in 6th grade we had a school janitor/custodian named Mike. one day he came to work on a shiny new motorcycle that he’d clearly worked very hard to afford. harley, goldwing, whatever, I don’t know. but not too many days later a bunch of kids spent recess throwing rocks at it and pretty much totaling the body.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

ursine bipedalism

a family of stuffed bears welcomes you to the 2nd story of the Fairview museum. this is all so encouraging.

Monday, May 22, 2006

quadrupedal and bonnetted turks

some scientists went out to southern Turkey to check out these 5 Kurdish siblings. one of the theories they came up with was genetic: reverse evolution. this idea presupposes direction, or that evolution happens “to generate us as the summit of life’s purpose.” Steven J. Gould totally would have given these scientists noogies, probably after beating them all at arm wrestling. the BBC even made a TV special (about the hand walkers, not arm wrestling) and this was going to be the next big thing. now it seems headed for the Piltdown file.
these guys don’t crawl around on hands and knees like babies but “bear crawl” on hands and feet. no, not like cartoon bears (that go on 2 legs with shirts and no pants). the siblings wear pretty regular clothes and get around like regular bears. they are mentally handicapped but, the scientists observed, “otherwise they had quite strong legs and arms;” they don't mention whether the scientists carried out arm wrestling tests. the siblings’ ability to walk on 2 legs might also have been better studied if the scientists tried them on a course of ladders, rope bridges and waterslides. this way when the science fair and media circus left town the family would be able to keep the assemblage; a boon to the whole community. as things went, they were at least left with new plumbing and electricity. and for now nobody needs to go revise the Sphinx’s riddle.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

watch your fingers

at the shooting star saloon in Huntsville
they put a hot dog on my hamburger today.

doggie! he's on the t-shirts too.

(the less anyone says about this the better)

Friday, May 19, 2006

simonizing the pentagon

can you think of any metonym that has been more nationally significant in the last 5 or so years than the Pentagon? no really, this isn’t a rhetorical question, there have got to be tons of better ones if you’d just help me come up with some. I’m ready with pencil and paper whenever you are. all the same, I bet all those people working at the pentagon think the fact that every day their security clearance gets them into such a cryptic metonym is awfully impressive. and it doesn’t hurt that your clearance also gives you instant access to what looks like at least 15 different dining establishments and food services! mall & drive-thu favorites like taco bell, sbarro, kfc, subway, dunkin’ donuts, mc donalds, baskin robins and even the nice sit down types like pizza hut. sbarro and pizza hut under one roof; bureaucratic decadence!

my cousin, who is working there this summer, made the observation that there’s a 6:5, starbucks to building sides radio. our military complex, possibly the world’s largest office building, runs on a lot of gourmet caffeine. “you gotta see it to believe it.”

now, I know people have different feelings about the pentagon. but if the American people had some way to relate to what’s going on there I think there could be a lot more understandment, you know? since Nixon, a lot of us have associated the pentagon with lies and killing, but nobody wants to see more planes flown into it. that doesn’t help anything. so it looks like what we have is a major national PR problem at a critical point in time. how do we make the pentagon seem accessible and friendly to 300 million Americans, and to our international neighbors?
considering what we do know about Americans, and our global niche in media exports, the answer seems quite simple.

[this might be a convenient spot to pause and have your broker buy you some Milton Bradley/Hasbro stock. trust me, this is hot.]

ok, ready? all we need to do is add another side onto everyone’s favorite electronic, tactilely interactive memory game! could there be a more elegant solution? (this one is a rhetorical question; there is absolutely no other solution.) kids and adults alike not only begin to feel they understand what’s going on out there in Arlington but they also get a refresher course in hsas terror color coding. in typical free market fashion, patents are then taken out on defcon simon keychain minis, a dance dance revolution version, product placement in more remakes of war games, close encounters and stuff… [I’m tellin ya’, buy those Hasbro shares while you can still afford them.] isn’t this a lot more genial than all that big brother business anyway? don’t even get me started on “Simon says” metonymy.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

the trouble with real pears

this public service announcement was cut from the side panel of my Western Family brand Crispy Rice cereal box. if you’re not familiar Western Family is the cheap grocery brand that makes everything.

the trouble with real pears

1. ambiguous. the word pear, when spoken, can very easily be confused with any of several other words; words that mean something completely different. for example pair, par, pare, um…paring knife. ask your grocer for “canned pears” and avoid this confusion altogether.

2. real pears have stickers on them that you have to remove. what, you wanna choke on a sticker?

3. funny shape

4. it’s easy to squeeze a real pear too hard when you’re just trying to hold onto it. pear goop all over your hands. what a mess. however, you can squeeze a can as tight as you want. you can really clutch down on it, no problem! but now look at you. and you had planned to go out tonight. guess someone else will be taking your girlfriend to laser Floyd.

5. Western Family doesn’t make real pears. and even if they did, come on. are you really going to put them on quesadillas?

6. when you finish a real pear you have a core, which you know is at best a kind of soggy fibrous rope. but when you’re done with that can of canned pears, and you’ve drunk off all the sweet nectar, you have a steel can! you can do all kinds of stuff with the can. play telephone, catch termites, catch baby anteaters, conduct electricity, put you laser Floyd tickets in it, catch…um, box elder bugs. what do you have against steel cans? what do you have against our steel workers? stubborn pinko! luddite! why do you always have to be like this? and what do you have against baby anteaters?

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Shasta the liger has a posse

I can’t believe all the attention that’s been showered on ligers lately. it’s really quite a milestone for them and for all hybrids, really. if only my favorite lion-tiger hybrid could have lived to see this day. Shasta was born nearly a half century ago this month, and lived through the better part of the cold war. she overcame all of the typical hardships that tend to afflict ligers: blindness, depression, growth dysplasia. anyone who grew up along the Wasatch front since then should not only think of Shasta as cheap soda pop but as our 1,000 lb unofficial community mascot- whether you saw her in the flesh or, like me, preserved in a gallant stance behind glass.

I don’t know about magic but it seems ligers are quite skillful at manipulating their zookeepers. mythical or not, the official story goes that they named her Shasta because they were always like, “she hasta have this” and “she hasta have that.” How do you like that? –preying on the selfless nature of zoology majors. but anyway, what suckers!

now it seems everyone’s got a liger. zoos all over, and they're increasingly required prerequisites for some of the better jobs in ringleadership. “no liger? forget it.” a real proliferation, I’m telling you. is this really good for us? how many ligers is enough? every one of them does deserve dignity, don’t get me wrong. but isn’t each individual a little diminished by the existence of so many? as if they didn’t have enough afflictions already. let’s remember, these aren’t sodas; they have feelings.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Saturday, May 13, 2006

arranging the skin: the two heads of taxidermy

how does taxidermy make you feel? I mean truthfully, how are you with the whole thing? do you have any special experience that those 4 syllables bring to mind –syllables that begin so threateningly and end with such good humor. perhaps a formative childhood memory of your first encounter with this limbo creation between plaything and stoic pet.

raise your hand if you have one of these at your work?

it’s really not all that different from making a superficial mummy, without all the freight to bring into the hereafter. or at least a more sympathetic one, the kind you might introduce to relatives and old fraternity brothers. but this all depends on who you ask. from what I can gather there seem to be 2 camps here: the hobbyists and the craftsmen. let’s see, the first remembers when taxidermy was just a way of life. if you wanted to make it in this world you would have to participate in the activity of cleaning, preserving and filling the skins of dead animals with special material to make them look as if they are still alive. this characterizes about half of the definitions you come across; very pragmatic and even a little vulgar.
but there is a faction out there, Merriam-Webster press among them, who would nudge this rude activity into a more elevated realm: the art of preparing, stuffing, and mounting the skins of animals and especially vertebrates. a gentlemen’s sport. other definitions included special shout outs to different phyla- fishes, reptiles and stuff. and what about that bit “and especially vertebrates”- have you seen a sea cucumber that’s been…um, stuffed, mounted?

this introduces another problem: coming to some agreement on a verb, most likely through a back-formation from the noun. even though taxidermy is going on all around us-no doubt there are like 7 or 8 people arranging the skins right at this moment- we still have no suitably accurate way to say what they’re doing! believe me, I’ve asked around. the deer hunt is a county holiday here and I’ve got people shooting at mourning doves, mountain lions, elk, ducks and turkeys all around me. here’s the problem put simply. do you have your dead animals taxidermied, taxidermized, taxidermed? none seems right and when I ask the locals, it’s “oh I just say stuffed and/or mounted.” call me fastidious but that doesn’t quite work because to mount an animal you will need a saddle. and a stuffed animal is something else. it’s what you spend your lunch money trying to grab with the impossible 3 fingered claw out of that big glass bin at the arcade or grocery store entrance. plus niether word fully represents the process, which is quite involved. I mean it’s all a big semantic mess and we can’t go on ignoring it! meantime here we are trying to make decisions about wire tapping. do we think this is just going to go away?

Friday, May 12, 2006

a rhyme incarnate

wow! thank you Thomas Grünfeld for smuggling these splendid creatures into the new world. and to think that I was barely able to get a box of couscous through customs. photos taken last december at the OMR gallery in mexico city. yes, it is sleek and handsome, but does it rhyme in German?

last fall when the chief addressed our nation he railed against hybrids. like Prednick, he wasn’t so scared of Dr. Moreau’s leopard people but of an arbitrary, wanton creator. you can understand, right? like most americans, the president fears absurdity. gosh, it’s like that x-men prophecy and I just saw the trailer the other day for the next sequel. this will surely be the watershed issue of our time. I think we have the social maturity to handle it though. nobody had vandalized this gentle fauna at least. but there was an armed guard downstairs.

alright, here’s some more polar bear trivia.
Q-do polar bears eat penguins?
A-yes. no, wait, I told it wrong.
Q-do polar bears eat penguins?
A-no -“why not?” your nephew or someone asks
-because they’re extinct.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

polar bears and hearing aids

when I was walking into a restaurant on center street I saw these 2 polar bears whispering secrets to each other in a shop window. the shop was Harris Hearing Aid Center and it was closed at midday. as I was taking this picture a lady pulled up in her car and asked me if I’d like to go inside. absolutely! she unlocked the place and let me see the bears from another angle…

I was surprised to see they weren’t whispering secrets at all! their lips were raised in silent sneers and they seemed locked in some kind of patient restrained conflict. the nice lady also told me that if I wanted I could move the baby bears off their arms for a better picture. this was a polite gesture on her part but I don’t know what she was thinking; as if any sane person would dare interrupt what was going on here.

at this point I started suspecting the nice lady might be crazy, or trying to get me killed! these bears had probably been juggling baby bears until the nice (but crazy) lady & I had interrupted and they’d suddenly become shy, caught in what then appeared to be a King Solomon moment. also, there’s a great cheap Salvadoran restaurant next door! ($1.60 pupusas, yeah!)

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

don't touch my cat!

about 20 minutes into the movie Ed comes over and accidentally finds Rubin's dead cat Simon in the freezer: Rubin's had trouble letting go. from there Simon gets put in a cooler and they head out to the Utah desert to bury him, I recommend. these are storyboards that I got from a guy who got them from a guy who...Trent Harris.

Geezer, my (family's) dog of 12 years hit the streets last winter. He was getting old and arthritic, and his arthritis medicine made him incontinent. what can you do? he had been an inside dog but toward the end he was mainly between the yard and the garage. then he disappeared, ran away. I've heard that sometimes dieing animals/pets will wander off when they sense it's time. this picture is from a month or so before that - I also kind of knew it wouldn't be long. did he end up in someone's window well? under the scrub oak in a canyon drainage? run over?
how do these look as alternatives to being euthanized & cremated, mummified or fired off in a rocket?
yes, of course it makes me sad.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

where do mummies come from?

this is the Summum temple where, for the price of graduate school, you can arrange to have yourself or a loved one mummified. for maybe a little less they also mummify cats and parakeets (you cheapskate). is there anyone else around that even makes mummies anymore? not that I know of. these guys also make wine, communicate with summa individuals, and run a “peafowl sanctuary.” while visiting, you can tank up on their sacramental water (9am-5pm). and if you can get your bishop to issue you a food order you can even pick that up a couple blocks over.

man, do these guys have it covered. I mean in terms of immortality, there are appeals pending on egyptology, angels and aliens, and if all else fails there are peacocks and wine for the present. bases loaded. check out the website for all kinds of wisdom from yogis, gnostics, saints, Einstein and Morpheus (Lawrence Fishburne, yeah!).

all the same, none of us have a monopoly on immortality (I don't even like board games). we try botulism, mitsubishis, freezers, nanorobots, breakdancing (Fame) -singing “I’m gonna live forever, I’m gonna learn how to fly.” I can’t remember what else people have sung in ages past but I do remember the 1980s and nobody can take that away from me! anyway, how do you know that even when you have been made into a mummy they’re not just going to throw you in the furnace, use you to fuel a space shuttle or something later? I mean things are getting scarce these days, $3/gallon and I don't know if we have the patience for more dinosaurs.

Monday, May 08, 2006

local mummies: before and after

this is Rooster (the live one on the right) and Butch (the golden doberman on the left) in a visibly awkward moment. you have many options if you want to get a formal photo taken of your pet. you can put a dead pheasant in his mouth (or a rubber squeaky pheasant if you can’t abide the blood and feathers). for the less dignified photograph there are plushy reindeer antlers that can be temporaily attached to the head by way of a simple plastic omega, and then removed and put away for another year. but a dog mummy prop is a less traditional and (if I may say so) more extravagant choice. I doubt the JC Penny studio keeps many of these around so call ahead.
surely we can all understand how Rooster must feel. photographs are already demoralizing by nature; feeling the oppressive collective inspecting gaze of everyone who may later see the picture, and that terrible flash. we all have trouble at funerals but Rooster is pioneering some new territory here. territory that even Laika might fear to tread, much less mark. I mean, what is appropriate for she the living dog in this scenario? sniff? weep? pee? chew? read a poem? I guess it depends on ones prior relationship with the deceased but even that’s tricky. here we see Rooster in that moment of trepidation.

But the shame is removed in time as Rooster gets her own gold leaf!

Saturday, May 06, 2006

mummies: these are not piñatas, ok?

The mummy is the antithesis of the piñata for several reasons. (seriously now, this is important):
A) they’re spelled totally differently, duh.
B) Brendan Fraser has never fought a piñata (although he’s still young).
C-L or M or something) you’re probably real smart and can sort the rest out on your own.

this is a picture of Rooster and her attendees. Rooster was a wealthy mastiff, a local whose owner had her mummified. don’t ask about these other 2. who cares? do you see anyone making mummies out of them? no - so who gives a rip?! they’re probably not even dead yet and everyone knows there’s nobody more anonymous, insignificant than a live working stiff in 2006. more on mummers and mummies later.

Friday, May 05, 2006

piñatas: shiva in a circular river of creation and destruction, snakes chewing on their tails and stuff.

Martha Acevedo has been making piñatas for a long time at her home in Zacatecas, central Mexico. the 1st time I saw her at work was 7 or so years ago. the rugrats cartoon was a big deal at the time and so that's what she was making. Rugrats Piñatas . if rugrats is aesthetically offensive then try the Spanish translation: adventures in diapers, basically.

this sheep is from last december. for some, the word piñata might bring to mind something familiar. maybe a magenta burro of corrugated paperboard and newspaper stapled together, suspended over the produce or 'ethnic foods' section of the supermarket. Martha's sacrificial lamb is a different animal. she starts with a terra cotta pot (candy vessel) and goes from there; heavy-weight. it's very impressive and at the same time kind of maddening and depressing how much work goes into the thing, all to get demolished on the patio. even so, it's good to see her making sheep now and not rugrats.

[insert stuffy commentary about primal hunting/feasting rituals, syncretism, blood and taffy here]

I mean what's not to totally love about a piñata? sure, an effigy you can burn, but this is so much more physical (or interactive for all e-nerds in e-landia). how much cooler is it when you can disembowl Judas (or Guy Fawkes, Summer Wheatley, the president, Ravana, whatever), and for candy?!

Thursday, May 04, 2006

I got a ticket in Wisconsin

I got a parking ticket in wisconsin yesterday. It takes me a little longer than expected to eat a falafel sandwich and my meter is 8 minutes over. $20
I have never not paid a parking ticket but this might be my chance to beat the system. you know, stick it to the man. here's why.

(a)-it's a rental car and all they have is the license plate and actual car info (make model etc.) no dl#, fingerprints, forensic nail clippings, nothing. I've even since finished using the car and will never see that car again.

(b)-it's an illinois rental car, out of state plates, etc. I mean are they going to go to the effort to track down an out of state car back to the out of state rental company, etc. etc.?

(c)-good grief! even if they do, the rental co. never asked my address or anything. I mean I think we're pretty safe here.

(d)-I'll probably go back to wisconsin someday but I doubt anytime soon; and even so, see (a).

(e)-then again it's only $20 but goes up after 10 days and then up and up and up and stuff. is is worth the risk?

am I just being a wuss here? should I take this as my opportunity to stick it to the man? I have 9 days to decide.

oh and yes, people in wisonsin do talk like coach z.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

tab energy drink

tab energy: latest harbinger of the apocalypse.
your thoughts?

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

...other shoe to drop

does it bother you to see an asterix that doesn't seem to refer to anything in sight? does it piss you off when people say "asterix" when they mean asterisk? (then you need to re-lax)

* let's start with something easy. you can say "yo, that's deaf" when you mean something is "def." you know, like "the new Scary Movie 4 is deaf!". people won't even notice the diference.
now, try saying "I'm so stroked" the next time you're "totally stoked."
or if you're "down" with something, you might say... (nevermind, you get the idea)

and if the other shoe does drop and there's nobody actually reading this blog, does it really make a sound?

Monday, May 01, 2006

fish without faces

a pedestrian approach to the small game of blogging. actually, you’ll see this is more jaywalking really. not even bipedal but like a one-legged jaywalking approach. I’m sure you can picture a tyrannosaurus rex typing his big blog with the 2 fingers of each hand. I mean is that lame or what?!

my brother (not me, no) made a mistake one time. he used the word “lame” in mixed company: “that’s so lame!”* I know what you’re thinking; you’d never do something like that. I know. I know. but he did. he didn’t mean anything by it. so this girl at work (2 legs) took offense. she asked him if he'd ever call something “crippled” or “retarded.” I forgot how he replied. I think he just felt really bad about himself after that so he pushed her over and clocked out.
this blog is called fish without faces and it’s all about that kind of thing, and other things.

“This fish you dream about. Let’s talk about that, It’s always the same fish, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” Yossarian replied. “I have trouble recognizing fish.”
“What does the fish remind you of?”
“Other fish.”
“And what do the other fish remind you of?”
“Other fish.”
Major Anderson sat back disappointedly. “Do you like fish?”
“Not especially.”

-so bipedal, monopedal, quadrupedal, octapedal, whatever – we’re jaywalking here.