Scientists have figured out those big lizards called Komodo Dragons are poisonous. When they tear into their prey, the snake-like venom in their bite sends their victims into shock and stops their blood from clotting.
I saw one of those reptiles kill a deer in a film on television once. Some kind of nature show about predators and their prey. It disgusted me. The idea of a reptile killing a mammal makes my blood boil. Probably a hatred that goes back to the garden.
The sight of a killer whale crashing onto the beach to grab a seal is exhilarating. Watching a few lions pull down a water buffalo or a baby elephant is awesome, almost sexual. But watching a 150-pound lizard grab Bambi's mama by her hind leg and tear it off is shocking.
The good news is this revolting reptile is near extinction. Maybe we should create a demand for Komodo skin boots and belts. Speed them on their way. I would not hesitate for one second before knocking a baby Komodo in the head with a club.
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In a kill or be killed situation, you don't like mixing species. Like others don't like mixing sweets with sour? What does this mean?
If this was an answer on the Emotional DNA test, what would it tell us?
I'm trying to imagine the nuance involved here. Very interesting.
Nuance. Yes. The Channel Islands down south around Santa Barbara. There are four species on the islands now. Gets messy. Maybe Miguel shouldn't read much further. But you have your bald eagle, your golden eagle, your cute little island foxes, and your feral pigs. The food chain goes bald eagles eating mainly fish competing for territory with the golden eagles who eat the little foxes who eat the feral pigs. When the bald eagle population took a dive, the golden eagles took over the island and ate up the foxes and the pigs took over the islands. Power to the pig. Solution? Hope the bald eagles will recover and run the golden eagles off and that the bald eagles won't develop a taste for foxes. In the meantime, off the pigs the way we did the donkeys used to run wild on the islands. The foxes have been adopted by the elementary schools in the area. Nobody cares about the swine. And all this was before the flu formerly known as swine. And which of these species is closest to ours?
Believe me the leetle peeg shares your aversion to Komodo dragons. Not sure I'm on the same page with the sexual je ne sais quoi of lions on baby elephants. All that blood, with the terrible trupeting of baby elephants as their mothers whirl in defense of their young... The nuance, as the girl says is very interesting indeed. But hey, it's a big, nasty thigh high, red leather stiletto heeled world for some and a world of blood and agony for others. Damn, that might just work as the opening sentence in my new novella...
We've dealt with your type before, Glad. Me & Greenpeace, we got this routine down.
1. I call up my Euro-friends. They chopper in, drape themselves protectively - aesthetically - dangereuxly - atop the baby Komodo. The clips are dynamite. (Note/self. Tranq the big toothy fuckers before Eurotrash arrives.)
2. Implement trade sanctions on Glad. Cut off his supply of European films. He talks Big Ass American, but let's face it, he's a beret kinda guy. Coupla weeks without ennui, and he'll be like Bambi.
3. If he holds out, we hit him with the real stuff, "Cinema Schizophrenique" - aka Canadian film. We run Cronenberg back-to-back with Ivan Reitman. Videodrome... Meatballs. Loop it. Then Guy Maddin and James Cameron. Terminator... My
Winnipeg. No one can hold up under that kind of intense cultural confusion.
He'll come out of it clutching his cuddly plush Komodo toy, and repeating "Think Globally, Act Locally" at our command.
You don't fuck with Komodo. They've been around.
Careful, he's going to get a Denys Arcand Jesus complex, and then he'll show you. I know you'd like to get rid of those Frenchies, but really, without them, you're like 'rien'.
So maybe we should just relocate the Komodo Dragons to the Channel Islands. And I forgot about the rats. I always forget about the rats.
100 million years in the making...
These are awesome creatures; respect the primordial monsters that once ruled the earth.
Sir, no one ever worries about upsetting the pigs...that's because pigs don't rip your arm off off when they lose...Komodo are known to do that
Just get Billy to send you a couple of his Komodo's, Tom. If they're as good as he says, they'll clean up your Bambi problem, and quick.
You can probably tame 'em too, given a bit of time. I'd start by hand-feeding them some of that Tillamook.
Or maybe get the Girl to do it. You concentrate on getting those Safeway doors straight. One challenge at a time.
Billy, I think you're just prejudiced. No two ways about it. You find the Komodo revolting. There's something about it and its kind that you find disgusting. How would you feel if a Komodo and an alligator fell in love and had a Komogator or an Allimodo (I this one find a way into Des' heart.) Would you accept the union? How would the offspring fair in your intolerant world that fails to see the majesty and beauty of these great ferocious beasts? Tisk, tisk, tisk....
Perhaps I can be helpful and point you to some good books on the subject:
Komodo dragons: Symbols of species intolerance
by Sukhdeep Rip
"The Venom of Species intolerance": A structural analysis of the affects on society of the the misunderstood venom producing Komodo Dragon
by Hugh Jass Lizard
Love the labels on this post, Billy. No need to read your actual posts, the labels pretty much tell the tale.
Mansky shows up at Safeway with his Komogator and he can pretty much enter any goddamn doorway he wants. My bets are the rest of the crowd will choose the back door.
I suggest you head immediately to the organic chicken section - your Komogator will no doubt be hungry, and having impeccable taste will certainly be interested in the assortment of Komo stirfry. Blood flaps usually come in handy, though you can make do flattening some cardboard boxes.
And Quinn's right, I expect your Komogator will walk out of Safeway with several nice pair of "skin boots", a luxury in Flores but a dime a dozen in America's heartland.
I can't stand Komodo hugging, even though it's sure not to last long.
That's a disgusting thought, girl. I couldn't stand it when James Carville and Mary Matalin fell in love. Talk about mixing the species.
Actually Komodo dragons go in for surprisingly long foreplay, and even Komobrators as I'm sure GftB was about to spring on you. If not interrupted by a chicken snack or other preferred prey, it might even go on all night, which can make them bad neighbors in apartment buildings if you didn't already have doubts.
In the first Gulf War, Antepilani suffered a severe head injury. Since then, his entire vocabulary has consisted of quotes from the movies. No one has ever noticed the difference.
quinn, I'd label it with beastiality, but I don't think the server could take the hits.
Des, like sea serpents, the Komogators exchange venomous bites when they mate. Although not deadly to the mate, the bite is excruciatingly painful. The main reason they are on the way out. (I'm going for a long loop back to the Mansky zwerg scenario. Could be a personal best. Or worst, depending on how you look at it.)
Don't wanna be mistaking your Komogator for your Komobrator. That's the kind of mistake you only make once.
There's a nice symmetry to this thread. Tom's comment asking whether he can kill Bambi with his pellet gun sitting as the still, small point of sanity amidst heaps of torn flesh and the screams of Komodo mating.
Just googled "Fatal practice of Komodo hugging." Got this story from March 29th. "Two Komodo dragons mauled a fruit-picker to death in eastern Indonesia, police and witnesses said Tuesday, the latest in a string of attacks on humans by the world's largest lizard species."
I didn't give a shit when they were just killing fishermen. But when it's farmers, it's personal.
Hand me that pellet gun, willya Tom?
God. Will people never stop trying to have sex with animals?
quinn, I don't want to kill Bambi--only injure.
There's something primordial about having one reptilian brain try to communicate with/copulate with another. Probably the root of Billy's attraction to Ann Coulter, I'd guess. Now I'm starting to visualize a movie, have to contemplate the screenplay, whether it hearkens back to the days of cheap Japanese monster movies, or something more "Blair Witch Project"-like with a patch of woods, a trail of blood/flesh, and a lot of pan-ups to light streaming through leaves... Or Mickey Rourke as the ol' Komogator himself, partly animated, part in the ring, part just tripping around the city, ripping into people that he meets.
And then there's the sitcom West Wing takeoff-approach, with the Komogator-in-Chief, or perhaps replacing Donald Trump in The Apprentice, where rather than being fired, you get gnawed and ripped to pieces, being slightly more brutal times than the early 2000's. Reptilian reality shows. Perhaps eating Bambi each week could be the highlight.
Get a grip, Billy.
Julian, the only grip we're looking for is a firm hold on a 3 iron or a cudgel to throttle someone - Billy is actually scarier when he's holding back from his inner desires to commit Valkyrian overlordship of his political enemies. And besides, a hive that's not buzzing is hardly a hive. And then have you seen the Quinn Bee's posts? A sticky mess would be the polite way to describe it, hardly tied to what polite company would consider reality, not that there's anything wrong with snuff films and inhalants - if you're Canadian.
But it looks like Billy's self-censored again - I can only guess what direction the bubbling up of restrained passion will take - and we have it for our own fault when it does. Lance the boil, free the Glad.
Eating Bambi while he's still alive, actually. I'm beginning to take a strange liking to these lizards.
I knew you'd come around and begin to appreciate the species.
I vote for the island of Komodo as the new survivor episode location.
Never get off the boat ;)
That's appalling, Billy.
Where's the HighDef?
And leave it to Des to mix up Canadian culture.
It's "inhalant films and snuff."
We're part British, after all.
I'm sure Mansky or Des will show up tomorrow to explain our fascination with cannibalism, our repulsion/attraction impulses and the like in terms of myth, structural anthropology or simply our sadistic infantile fantasies of biting our mother's breast and tearing it apart like a Komodo does with it's prey.
Is this what Hive devolution looks like?
Is it time to go back to art, music and poetry now?
And Des, might I commission you to come up with a final coda for this post: a clever phrase using Komodo and commode. Might be just the thing we all need to find our way back to civilization. Good night and good luck.
Agreed GFTB.
There's been a lot of anger, or, as I like to call it, "Komodo energy" 'round here lately. It may have started with the Tillamook.
Anyway. Like you said, we need something to bring us back in tune. Art, music, poetry.
Dedicated to Bambi. You know who you are.
Ah, Girl, I was waiting for you to point out that Komodo means "comfortable" in Spanish, all hunky dory with me.
The best Japanese restaurants serve their shrimp still alive, and that little deer track just reminded me of large sushi. Of course the Japanese would also make it more artistic - a beautifully laid out table setting with the appropriate accoutrements.
And Quinn, you never figured out the "part British" thing, did you? It's exactly the reversal and absurd takes on what would be refined British culture that makes Canadian society (if that expression isn't an abomination) say quaint (or quinnt if you will). High tea becomes high sticking, stiff upper lip comes to mean the whole body. Who can't but admire your penchant for getting things wrong to the nth degree. And this is especially why seeing what can be one of the world's most compassionate and concerned nations routinely grab their cudgels and go out to cull the shores from the threat of baby seals. Who else would have noticed the danger? Who else could have mustered the sangfroid? (Which almost sounds like a lunchtime snack, have to patent that phrase - "who killed Colonel Mustard in the Game Room with the Sang Froid?"
So back to Girl's cry for mercy and relief, I must say she's bugging out in the face of great performance art, better than Salo or Mudmen nighttime escapades or Piss Christ exhibits. Civilized man and woman meets the reptilian movable feast. Something like "The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, & Her Lover" or "Sweet Movie" meets "My Dinner With Andre" and "March of the Penguins". They always say it's too low-brow at first, but here we're seeing Billy come around. I can just see the Komogator issuing one of my favorite movie lines, "I could never get the bitter taste out" as the police take him away. Film noir at its best.
To heck with film noir. I want this on TV.
And now... Billy Glad as... The Komogator.Billy turns, raises brim of hat, flashes big Bambi-eating grin, light sparkles off teeth.
A lot like Miami Vice, only starring that Aussie Alligator guy who got killed by the swordfish.
Once people got to know him, we could him into various Reality TV shows. People'd vote, Komogator would get to kill & eat the loser.
Oh Des, you've gone and done it now! Very good. First of all, I must admit I wasn't thinking the Spanish comodo. I was thinking French commode as in toilet. Although, one could also think of commode as in furniture. So, for quinn's penchant for getting things wrong, well, need I say more...
Now as for me "bugging out." That sounds too much like a challenge. I wasn't going to bring this up, but now that my abilities to hang in with the big, bad and rough boys has been challenged. I challenge you to go over to the Komodo Mother Lode video library at youtube and see if you can get through the "Komodo eats rat" video. If you can do it with the sound ON, I will send you a Wordle that says: Des is the man! Shit, I'll even turn it into a post!
Shit Quinn,you're killin' me here. You got that wrong! You're talking about Steve Irvin and it was a stingray that got him. Sorry Des, maybe you're right about Quinn.
Ahem. That would be Steve Ir-w-in. Pointe... quinn.
Anyway. Swordfish, stingray - neither present a formidable opponent for Komogator!By the way, anybody seen Tom? Last I remember, he was outside on the patio, eating Tillamook and talking to Komogator. Huh.
I liked the swordfish/stingray juxtaposition. Maybe it's the bloody spirit of this thread; Irwin impaled on a swordfish snout, waxing poetic about Australian fauna, as komogators slide off the bank in anticipation of the denouement.
Ok, this is why Wiki rules. Steve Irwin facts:
"In 2004, during an interview with Larry King, he admitted that he had a fear of parrots, having received many painful bites from the animals in the past.[1]"
"In the weeks following Irwin's death, at least ten stingrays were found dead and mutilated, with their tails cut off, on the beaches of Queensland, prompting speculation that they had been killed by fans of Irwin as an act of revenge. Michael Hornby, executive director of Irwin's Wildlife Warrior fund, condemned any revenge killings.... That's the last thing Steve would want," he said.[82]"
I donno about you, but if a Komodo stabbed me through the chest, one of the first things I'd want would be for my friends to hunt down a few dozen of the bastards and throw 'em on the barbie.
Before we move on, can we explore "the fatal practice of komodo hugging"? The skin, belts, boots are self explanatory, and I think we covered breeding and more when we hit the komobrator, but where were you heading with that 'hugging' tag?
M2O.
I'm not a doctor, but my guess is Billy's feelings toward the Komodo would likely parallel those of Steve Irwin toward his parrots. You know... sometimes you're young, and you... cross a line. Parrot, pig, giant Komodo dragon.
Painful memories.
So you set up psychic barriers. There can be no returning to the forbidden fruit.
Or reptile.
But then again, I could be wrong.
Naw.
It's like tree hugging, except the tree has a poisonous bite. If anyone can think of a real reason to keep these vile beasts in the ecosystem, I'd like to hear it. Better species have perished without any consequences for homo sapiens at all. But in a world that keeps dogs and cats well fed while kids starve to death, what can you expect? People being the fools they are, I'm going to rely on the rats. They got the dinosaurs, and they're getting the Komodo. Hell, girlfriend, this is the art.
First, last I checked "commode" was an English word as well. Still trying to get your mind out of the toilet.
Second, not sure what the sound for the komodo dragon/rat encounter - was hoping for some good squaling but got nothing - perhaps you were thinking of "bearded dragon eats rat"? Anyway, I'm guy known for handing out gecko with rat/puppy embryos at the bottom and then helping drink it. Chicken feet, pigeon paella, raw spider or monkey brain, it's all pretty much the same, just another roadkill entrée in the scheme of life.
And it wasn't "Komodo Hugging", it was "Komodo Huggies", the difficult task of house training your Komogator. The first time I tried telling him "bad boy" and putting his nose in it, I almost lost my right limbs. Tasers come in handy, pepper spray doesn't work nearly as well as I'd like.
But anyway, O Puella, if you want to use the bugging out line to segue into bug-o-philia, happy to go there. Crunchy arachnos and all. One of my most vivid images from 3rd world travel was 2 very loud, huge and crunchy sounding roaches fornicating after midnight in my kitchen. For someone who lived a bit in New Orleans and spent one birthday covering them with shaving cream and watching them roast in the sun, I still wasn't prepared. It was a bigger-than-life occasion. If only I'd had my Komogator with me...
Here's my wki research on CommodeThat must have been what I was thinking. As to getting my mind out of the commode, yeah, that may take some more work and need to be a group effort.
But really glad we're all so good at self editing at the Hive. Wouldn't want people to walk away with any misformation.
Re: squeals and where I had to draw the line. I had it WRONG AGAIN! It wasn't a Komodo, it was a Savannah monitor lizard-- same family of lizards.Sorry. That's why you couldn't find it.
Alrighty, then -- here it is Des. Have at it!And remember--sound up the whole time. Guten Appetit!
Billy, maybe you should add "commode" to the labels. That would bring it to 11. I hate even numbers.
Rat was a goner by 1:30 in. I once crashed on a floor completely exhausted, only to wake up to a thumping sound. Seems the housecat had found a mouse, would drag it to one side of my sleeping body, walk carefully around, leap over my inert body to land on the mouse, drag it to the other side and proceed again. Quite the sight seeing this furry cat leaping over me as I opened my groggy eyes. But fairly typical, watching a cat play with a wounded mouse for about 30 minutes before he gets bored. Okay, a Komogator leaping over me to land on the mouse would have been significantly more jarring indeed. Or if I had been "the mouse". I love meeses to pieces, but there are limits.
Thank you Billy.
Des, I'm having html problems with providing you your Wordle reward!
Perhaps later....
Gotta run. I'm off to teach the Komogators how to sing.
For Decidere, The arachno-komo-giant sushi monster-gator man!Those Komogators have excellent high notes. Lots of untapped talent there! But they have to work on their sense of rhythm-- too chaotic.
They think of their unpredictability as one of their talents. Where you would insert a refrain, they offer random bits of violence. I tell them they'll have more crossover appeal with a bit of cadence, and instead they start gnawing on my pants leg. I don't think they'll ever make it on Broadway at this rate.
Still trying to decipher that little Wordle word - it all seems so innocuous, but I figure once I break the code, the house of cards will come crashing down.
"Still trying to decipher that little Wordle word" = Big-Assed Lizards.
It's hard to maintain a cadence that would allow one's komogator to fit into the everyday ebb and flow of humanity, when they're forever kicking back for weeks at a time, digesting critters almost as large themselves.
The Raw and the Cooked.
Myth Variant #2417. "How the Dragon Devoured the Universe." Hive Tribe. Collected (around) 2009 -2010.
I'm waiting for Miguel's Myth submission - "Variants on Pigs in Space in Db Minor"
In time, in time... First we should busy ourselves with Myth #745, Dragones de Komodo en el Espacio in D Minor, 'The Final Solution', by B.Glad.
Jung thought we fear reptiles because we fear our own darker essence.
"The image of the serpent has been corrupted by the will of man, yet beyond the scope of his vision, it readies itself at his root, preparing to return him to the Godhead upon his death."
He is inspired in this by the Tibetan Book of the Dead, which prepares one for meeting reptilian devils, projections from our own shadow identities, in the immediate afterlife. Fearing them, or even failing to recognize them, will damn you to not attain Buddha wisdom.
"Hey, immortal one, you who was called _____! The four outer Door-guardian Yoginis will emerge from within your brain and appear before you! From the east, the white, cuckoo-headed Vajra holding an iron hook; from the south, the yellow, goat-headed Vajra holding a noose; from the west, the red, lion-headed Vajra holding and iron chain; from the north, the green-black, serpent-headed Vajra holding a bell; these four Door Yoginis will emerge from within your brain and appear before you! All these twenty-eight goddesses arise naturally from the creativity of the self-originating bodies of the fierce Herukas- so you should recognize them as Buddha-wisdom!
Hey, immortal one, you who was called _____! If you do not recognize that, you will cling to superficial reality, feel fear and hate, and flee these deities. You will go down again into excessive misery! If you do not recognize them, you will perceive the whole Heruka Deity host as if they were Yamas, Lords of Death, and you will fear the Heruka deities. You will hate them! You will panic! You will faint! Your own visions having become devils, you will wander in the life cycle!"
Don't any of you guys have snakes in your church?
At the First Haitian Church of Christ's Younger Brother, sure do.
Waiting for the Rootman Book of the Dead.
I thought you guys just used chickens.
Rootman, I HATE that business about wandering in the life cycle. That's some scary shit.
So I'm gettin' a chicken, a snake and a Komogator together for a ritual I like to call Macumba Magic.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Hey, immortal one. You who was called Rootman. I saw that Book Of The Dead film. It's the one where the zombies eat your brains, right?
This shit just sounds like Cage Match stuff to me.
"In this corner..... From the east, wearing white trunks... and weighing 114 pounds... you know him, you love him... it's cuckoo-headed Vajra andth his iron hook!"
(Fan noise, roar roar...)
The real match is between two perspectives on revulsion. Billy thinks he has a mammal vs reptile hate-on for lizards because they are different from him. Jung says Billy's Old Testiment vendetta is against his own shadow serpent nature. The Tibetans want to lead us from the illusion that the Garden snake is an other not of ourselves. We were the mammals that defeated the dinosaurs, but before that, deeper, we were the dinosaurs. The human genome contains an intact segment that will grow something very much like the Nile gilled snake. I detest Hillary because she is so alienly me. And Billy has a conniving Barack deep inside him. (Someday to emerge, alienly, from Billy's torso.) On judgment day, this all matters very much, dear ones, because you'd better have the right answers for the lizard dreams of your soul who guard the gate.
Did the lizard dreams of our souls precede the real lizards, or do they arise from our encounters with the world? I spent a lot of time one summer, working my way through the Book of the Dead and a batch of Czech acid. I ran into a note I made that summer the other day. Said if you can imagine what a snake's tail feels like when it sees a snake's head eyeing it from behind a rock, you got some kind of idea how I feel when I meet one of you so-called people. No doubt the drug warped my experience of the book.
I just want to know if the reptiles waterboard, or if they just tear your heart out to show it to you before you die. Kind of like a Cliff Notes version of the Akashic Record, just the Greatest Hits.
Guess I need to rent The Fabulous Mario Brothers again. Hey Ho, Mammals!
And the mammals have the tits, man. Who ever heard of a lizard with tits?
And balls to the wall. Who ever heard of lizards with balls to the wall?
Bummer. Czech acid.
The Tibetans indicate that upon your demise, the reptilian angels who "emerge from your brain and appear before you" to guard the path away from the life cycle will sport whatever combinations of genitalia your lizard brains can conjure up.
I want a blonde with enormous chichis.
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