Tragic Love

O things of the deep, why do you destroy yourselves just to be with us? We surface-dwellers really don't deserve such sacrifice.

[Sigh] I guess sometimes love don't feel like it should.

Ethel Merman?

In light of the recent conversation about mermaids, mermen, and mer-human intercourse, I feel now is the time to bring up the subject of Ethel Merman.

Can we officially christen her a sea-creature, by nature of her last name? And, if so, might we mate her with Peter Lorre, and start our own aquarium of Lorre-Mermen?

Perverts!

Question: are Ariel and/or Eric from The Little Mermaid sexual perverts? They both have serious cross-species romantic feelings, and Eric can't even get it up for Ariel when she's temporarily tranformed into a human (although he gets over this by the end of the movie). There is definitely a worry that he's just after a piece of tail, and that she is far to impressed with his ability to walk upright.



Part of what matters here is what the categories of "merperson" and "human" are, in the world of the movie. Is the Ariel-Eric relationship the equivalent of me having a relationship with a chimpanzee (i.e. perverted)? Or is it more like "jungle fever" (i.e. not perverted)? If the latter, I'm vaguely disgusted by the film's ending: Ariel permanently abandoning her mermaid identity to join up with the race of land-lubbers. I never was sure why Eric couldn't be transformed into a merman, which seemed a lot cooler than being human, given the compelling arguments presented in "Under the Sea".

Conclusion: Ariel (who yearns to not be something "of the sea") is the anti-Lorre (who defies his landed origins and yearns to be "of the sea"), in other words, she is pure evil!

Tap that aquifer!

"It was not simple to convince people that growing fish in the desert makes sense," according to the brains behind this scheme to raise fish on a waterless stretch of sand. I've emailed this to the Lubbock city council, with unfavorable results; they argue we already have a Red Lobster and two Long John Silverses.

Don't look at me!

Simon and I met up with this horrible "Goosefish" while waylaid in Boston on the weekend.



The foul creature (as seen in this picture, taken at the New England Aquarium) has taken to turning its back on the viewing window, allowing the visitor the respite of not having to see this disgusting beast, but also causing a pang of un-satisified curiosity to settle in her breast. The Goosefish's rejection, it's refusal to play the game of "being viewed," is comparaible to other notable acts of revolt, including Zidane's headbutt, and the time Doogie and Wanda decided not to have sex.