Don’t Come Back To The Five and Dime, Moby Dick, Moby Dick…

ITEM! From the Couldn’t See This Coming Files of the Unfettered Archives:

In light of the recent tragedy in which a marine biologist/entertainer who worked with Killer Whales at Sea World was mysteriously killed by one of the angrier Killer Whales, we thought it might be prudent at this juncture to make some helpful comments about the finer points of interacting with animal species, whether it be on the job or at home.  To wit: we suggest that you not work with animals who have the word "Killer" as part of their official zoological title. 

I’m talking about the fact that when I write "Killer Whale" in this very column, I have to remember to capitalize the word "Killer."  Usually, "killer" is in lower case, as more of a casual description.  But that’s not what’s going on here, Amigo.  Somewhere along the line, this particular type of whale did enough killing or at least enough displayed remarkably inappropriate behavior or got tons of laughs at Catch A Rising Star, so that some smart-aleck scientist found it necessary to insert the term "killer" into its goddamn name. 

I know what you’re saying: Unfettered Letters, I understand you are attempting to be humorous, but if you knew you’re biological facts, you would know that the term "Killer Whale" is a misnomer.  The Killer Whale is actually a gentle friendly creature who loves to nudge balls in the air for 8 shows a week instead of roaming the open seas.  That’s what that marine lady said, too.

In penultimate summary, the principle of paying attention to an animal species name when deciding when and how to interact with them also comes in handy when dealing with other genus zoologicus.  It is what the French call l’discrimation de animale dangereuse.  For instance, if you are going to hang around a bunch of ants – whether you like to watch them crawl around in the garden on the veggies, or are planning a fun day of burning them to a crisp with a big magnifying glass (like we all did as kids), here’s a suggestion: don’t choose Marauder Ants.

Why?  Because they like to go marauding.  How many things – people or animals – do you know nowadays who do any form of marauding at all?  Marauding as a general practice experienced a big drop off with the death of the Vikings and Genghis Khan, who lived like two hundred years ago.( It went the way of pillaging and foraging.)  No, I’m not talking about the guy who fought Captain Kirk, genius (although I suppose he was a minor modern marauder if you want to get technical). what I’m jsaying is: marauding just never turns out well. If there is a kind of ant that has enough bad shit on its permanent record so that it lead to the zoological forces that be to insist on putting "Marauder" in their name, then just stay away.  We’re talking a lot of times-out and "use your feelers, not your fists" before people start to call you a "marauder."  How about some friendly Carpenter Ants?  They wear overalls and carry little tiny adorable hammers and just walk around looking to help make a bookshelf.

Which brings me to the Man-Eating Venus Flytrap.  My friend Phil got one during grad school as a Christmas gift from his Uncle Willard.  Well, one day me and Slant-Eyed Tony go over to his house to get him to play some stickball, and we’re walking all around looking for him, calling out "Phil….olly, olly, oxen-free…" and stuff.  Then we notice the Venus Fly Trap sitting in a corner with a bib tucked in its collar and a very content look on its trap.  You can guess the rest.

In addition, if you like bees, hang out with The Bumbles; stay away from Africanized Killer Bees.  Africa seems like a pretty rough-and-tumble place to me.  Never been there, but I hear people sometimes get a notion in their heads to run around with machetes and do some marauding.  Any animal that is a Killer and has been Africanized too, is probably a pretty tough dude.  Just move on. 

People often ask me, "hey, why do you never go around Sperm Whales?"  Check it out.  I put things together.  Whales are big. And it’s the same theory I got about "killer;" if whale Poindexters went out of their way to name this big, big thing with the word "sperm," then, maybe it’s just me, but I’m seeing a possibility, at some point, of being like drenched in a roomful load of jizz if I hang around these guys enough.  I  just know something like that is going to happen.  It’s the Irish luck.  I’ve been drenched in jizz enough to know to stay the hell away.  Call me paranoid.  I don’t even know if whales have ga-ding-a-dings.  But they got something, and its like the size of a Toyota.

Along the same lines, if you are in seventh grade and there’s this guy who never speaks in Alegebra class, and who wears his Dad’s old army jacket, and who doodles faces of zombies constantly in his spiral, and whose nickname is "Killer Randy," then go ahead and invite other people to your next World of Warcraft meeting, or whatever it is the hell you do.  There are worse things than being drenched in a bucketful of 10cc, believe you me.  Use your head.

Thank you and adieu.

Posted by The Unfettered Editorial Staff on 1:17 pm Filed under All The Latest, Broken News, Yes. Virginia There Is A Satan and He Is Your Blankie. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry