ANIMALS, PEOPLE AND THOSE IN BETWEEN
Schematic/crest of 3 shields of the Grey Squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris).
Originally imported from America to Great Britain ca. 1840 as a living lawn ornament. On left, the nationalist imperative that the Greys should now be exterminated; on right; deforestation in part to supply the Briitsh Royal Navy with timber historically contributed to the near-vanquished Red Squirrel’s loss of habitat, helping to pave the way for the victorious Greys.
OK.
I’ve *sort of * held back on indexing the negative spooge that leaks from the corpulent sides of the Us vs Them discourse, but here is a brief list:
Red Squirrel’s Nut Cracking Nationalism
excerpt:
I used to conceal my identity from the disgusting hammer wielding fascist scum, that threaten to burn people alive! But I hide NO More!
Infidel Blogger’s Alliance (sic)
excerpt:
Grey squirrels dont blow them selves in the underground…
(insert tasteless joke here)
The Fall’s Mark E Smith in Squirrel Death Probe
excerpt:
The gruff singer claimed he would “happily set about an endangered red squirrel with a set of professional hedge-clippers”.
I have a wonderful friend named Mark; you’d never guess his best friend is a goose. Boswell became famous last year – he’s very personable – during his successful battle against leg cancer. He has his own blog. Anyway, I was very honored that he answered my recent inquiry about his well-being.
(Trip back from Tufts last week)
B: i need to sit in your lap.
M: nope.
B: i’m feeling very lonely right now.
M: you are sitting right next to me.
B: i want to be closer and i want to see out the window better.
M: you can see fine.
B: I WANT TO SIT IN THE DRIVER SEAT RIGHT NOW!!!
M: you’re the passenger and passengers sit in the passenger seat. now please get back in your seat. no no no! in your seat please.
*silence*
M: what’s wrong?
B: nothing.
M: then why are you standing on one foot?
B: am i standing on one foot?
M: yes you are.
B: hmm. i think i broke my leg.
M: you are kidding me. when?
B: when you wouldn’t let me sit in your lap.
M: are you sure it’s broken?
B: i think so.
M: do we need to turn around?
B: i think so.
….
sorry i was not able to depict the nightmare traffic on the mass pike, the pillow-fight cloud of feathers in the car, and the thunder storm.
anyway we turned around, went back to tufts, got an xray (no fractures), and by the time we left, he was running around the reception area flirting with all the cute women. grrrr.
in short, he is fine.
Mark sent me some pics of Boswell in the car to accompany the transcript:
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Working on a plan to make a taxidermy sculpture, if I can get Paul Parker to give me all his bullet-ridden Grey culls. They’ll be put to good use, employ one of my favorite taxidermists, and look something like zombies from Shaun of the Dead. (The Red will be old fare, nothing newly killed unless I can get a pox victim stuffed).
Sketch/ schematic for a heraldic crest for The Mitten Crab.
Trying to work through the equation of transport + luxury good + invader.
In this case, that translates to:
Mitten crab + cargo ship + S.U.V. + plastic pacifier.