Killer Killer Whales

Yeah, so, that whole news bit about Telly the killer whale killing a trainer at Sea World today, and oh, having also played a part in the deaths of two other trainers in the past, therefore making him a three-time killer? Yeah. I so called that shit.

Remember?

Analysis of My Grade School Lack of Talent, Difficulties with Tenses/Why I Was Not Born to Write: Exhibit C

3) Thinking all it took was two factions coming to the brink of death to realize the irrationality and futility of war.

THE STORY OF THE HORSE AND THE DONKEY

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The Story of the Horse and the Donkey is a 3rd grade tale of two enemies turned friends in the sudden, terrifying realization of their own mortality.

Dixie and Dopey---horse and donkey, respectively---do not get along. The history of their not-getting-along is not explored; their battle sites unknown. What matters only is the magnitude of their not-getting-along, equivalent to that of man's mightiest conflicts: Punks vs. Goths; Creamy vs. Chunky; Us vs. Them. Horse vs. Donkey, it seems, is a hatred with no end.

One day, Dixie and Dopey cross paths. The mere sight of each other sparks hostilities:

Dixie: I, am stronger than you, because I, have stronger hoofs.
Dopey: Well, I can get very mad, because I am very stubborn.

With the age-old weaponry of self-aggrandizing claims, incorrect pluralization, wayward punctuation and conclusive logic in the loose form of threat, the barbs of this simple exchange ignite an all-out, balls-to-the-wall brawl. In short, Dixie and Dopey freak the fuck out.

Their fight ends with neither victory nor defeat but rather a vague, mutually agreed upon cease-fire and a synchronous signature of stuck-out tongues. They then slink away home and plot the other's death.

The next day, Dixie shows up with a machine gun and an army helmet on his head. Whether or not Dixie has a past in some kind of equine military service is unclear; where exactly horses go to procure machine guns we will likely never know.

Dopey---always the more minimalist, sophisticated of the two---shows up with a Rambo-esque cloth tied around his head and a knife.

According to the cover illustration of this story, which I had for a while but somehow lost, the two lean into each other bristling and brandishing their weapons. They're ready to kill.

Or not.

Just seconds later, realizing the beauty and sanctity of that aching ephemera known as life, they both lose their nerve. They're so overcome by this sentiment that they destroy their weapons with the thunderous power of their hooves and in unison—somehow choreographed in the way that small villages in Disney movies suddenly awaken in order to sing about current events—they declare, "Let's be friends!"

We are told that they are friends forever. Fair enough---I too have become good friends with people I previously and for no good reason disliked. But I can't say that I've had the opportunity to say, "Hey, equine friend, remember the time we almost intentionally and quite brutally killed each other?"

The moment of truth.

Monkey Eating Eagle

Analysis of My Grade School Lack of Talent, Difficulties with Tenses/Why I Was Not Born to Write: exhibit B

2) Cop out endings.

Report: Snorkly the Dragon

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Snorkly the Dragon is the dramatic tale of a young dragon who is aqua, has rough skin, big nostrils, and tremendously negligent parents.

One (stormy) night, Snorkly's mother "goes out with his father", leaving Snorkly unsupervised. Where the mother and father go, and to do what, exactly, is unclear, but either way, big mistake: in the middle of the night, Snorkly is savagely beaten and abducted by the island's resident sadist, taken to a cave "what looked like it had evil spirtes in it," and thrown into a tiger's den. (You can't call yourself the "worst dragon in all of Dragon island," after all, if your secret sadist cave doesn't have exotic animal holding pens/jail cells.)

Inside this particular den is a tiger prone to asking dumb questions. Like when Snorkly---likely bruised, bloody, and groggy as he regains consciousness---is thrown into the den, the tiger asks, "Why do you look so sad?"

Despite his dim wits, the tiger's pure feline brawn comes in handy: the bully, although having gone to the trouble of installing a tiger den inside his cave, is not quite the mindful jailor. By carelessly leaving the door unlocked, Snorkly and the tiger---who invites Snorkly to hop onto his back, "but not too hard"---escape to freedom.

They manage to find their way home. After this long and grueling night they arrive to Snorkly's mother, who does not seem to have noticed or cared that her only child was missing. The father---if he's even Snorkly's real father at all---is nowhere to be seen. Casually sitting up at what now must be dawn, the mother:

1) shows no reaction to her badly beaten son returning home astride an unfamiliar tiger;

2) still tries, however, to dissuade him from keeping the tiger as a pet before passively giving in, evidently dismissing the enormous food costs that a pet tiger might entail;

3) offers her son no medical assistance;

4) is unaffected by Snorkly's recounting of the evening's events, but at the mention of the cave, suddenly asks, "What cave?", which suggests she's either:

• a) unfamiliar with the terrain of her home island and flabbergasted by the possible existence of caves;
• b) actually quite interested in her local cave network and would genuinely like to know which specific cave; or
• c) knows very well which cave, and has perhaps visited said cave on one of the many occasions she "goes out with his father", but is now playing dumb to cover up possible involvement with nefarious cave activities/cave-based drug rings.

Strangely enough, she does not think to notify the authorities of a maniac child beater on the loose until her son kindly asks her to, at which request she displays a sudden, uncharacteristic take-charge attitude ("I most certainly will!"). Again, this could be in attempt to conceal her associations with caves and/or cave dwellers/dealers.

Shrugging off his mother's incompetent parenting, Snorkly then leads the police to the bully.

Apparently the sadist bully didn't care that his hostages went missing either. Maybe he was distracted. Maybe he was frantically refreshing his browser page in the final minutes of an eBay bid. Who knows. But it does seem that this blase, laissez-faire attitude is one that defines the national character of the island, a collective consciousness that's all ain't no thang. It even affects the police, whose response to a child beating criminal is only to incarcerate said beater until they had "learned a lesson and would never be mean again."

Okay, so the legal system is a little more lax on Dragon Island. Dramatic events garner no media attention whatsoever. No one seems too troubled with protecting the public from danger. The former headquarters of a psychologically disturbed dragon---which were, by the way "so yucky and spooky"---get turned into a "paradise place".

Hey, c'mon. This is Dragon Island. See that molester van? Booze Cruise Mobile! That ex-meth lab? Daycare center!

Man, Dragon Island just wants to party!