Monday, April 24, 2006

Sunday, December 7th 2,349 BCE

08:43: Humidity high. Fur v frizzy. Nutter with a beard came round offering free cruise tickets. Sounded like one of those timeshare scams. Who’d want a trip in the Med this time of year? Cold callers - scum of the earth.

11:43: Bloody rain. Hate wet feet.

Since I have a penchant for odd museums, I am overjoyed to discover that if my travels ever take me to Phoenix, New York, the delights of the Lost World Museum await me.

Despite the nod to Conan Doyle, the actual mission of this temple of learning is to present the greatest collection ever assembled of evidence for the literal truth of the Bible. It also claims to provide proof of the Actual Way the Earth Looked Before The Flood. That would be the biblical deluge. Any other flood, for example the one in my kitchen after a bit of underwire got trapped in the washer/dryer, would not be aqueous enough.

The museum’s promotional material tantalizes with the promise of untold delights, all unmarred by the taint of secular scientific rationality. Actual artifacts from the Ark. A fossilized spark plug. Bits of giant animals, including an 11-foot kangaroo and 450 lb beaver skull. All of it clear and irrefutable confirmation of Genesis 1-11. Oddly, I am unable to find any mention of either of the latter two animals in my own copy of the Bible, but perhaps my interpretation of the texts is too literal.

Hopefully by the time of my visit, they will have created a tiny coin-operated model of a three-toed sloth swimming in a leisurely fashion across the Atlantic at about six feet an hour, leading a procession of opossums, armadillos and other assorted New World animals to their distant havens.

More excitingly, it seems that the latest coup by their acquisitions team could be the killer blow to evolutionary theory. It is the preserved body of “Cy”, a one-eyed kitten born in Oregon earlier this year. Two fingers to that filthy-minded Darwin and his half-baked theories right there, I think you’ll agree. A one-eyed kitten. Pretty compelling stuff. Think I’d better bin my autographed print of the “March of Progress” (Lucy’s signature was a tad smudged anyhow) and explain to those moths that dunking their wings in soot is cheating. Oh and someone better have a chat with the H5N1 virus about this.

Furthermore, to my unmitigated joy, the pickled pussy has inspired one or two fans to submit their poetry to the site. I believe it’s traditional that women who have achieved my age and spinster status become sentimental about cats (the sweet liddle ickle fluffy-iddy-dum-dums). In the spirit of this endeavour, I have therefore done my humble best to honour Cyclops the kitten in verse form.


Kitty! Kitty! Small and white!
Gifted with uncanny sight.
What begat thy single eye
But holoprosencephaly?

In antediluvian times
Strayed thy kin ‘twixt Noah’s vines?
‘Neath each tiny kitty paw
Sensed rumble of his power saw?

As the raging waters rose
On which deck didst thou repose?
On fishy stew, took thou thy ease?
Ladled fresh from boiling seas?

Could thy monocular eye
Noah’s secrets all espy?
Wither China? Who mucked out?
Did lions the “shipmate snacks” ban flout?

When the ventilation failed
And high-strung platypuses bailed
Did noselessness help thee eschew
Odour of the dino poo?

Kitty! Kitty! Small and white!
Gifted with uncanny sight.
What begat thy single eye
But holoprosencephaly?

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

I am once again renewing my offer to make beautiful lesbian babies with you.

Well, the two of us would be lesbians, I mean. The babies may or may not be.

Wow, how creepy does this comment sound? Really hella creepy.

Anyway. "What begat thy single eye / But holoprosencephaly?" HAAAAAAAAAA.

EvilAuntiePeril said...

HELP: I have absolutely no idea who this Candy individual is. I have never heard of her before. I have never visited her blog or posted comments.

However, she clearly has insight into the miracle of birth. Could I conduct psychological experiments on said babies? 'Cos that would be cool. There's this one where you wear a fake beard on alternate days...

And the name of the condition was a gift from the poetic gods.

Anonymous said...

Oh, my god. That's. So. Funny. I'm 100% sure that William Blake would love your take, too. Classic.

Darlene Marshall said...

You and Candy breeding together is just too, too scary.

But I don't blame her for asking.

And ignore that whirring sound. It's just Blake spinning in his grave.

Anonymous said...

There's this one where you wear a fake beard on alternate days...

I was going to make a totally inappropriate joke re: lesbians and beards and "That's not a very kind thing to call the Very Tall Husband, and I assure you my schedule for his use is NOT every other day!" etc. etc. etc., but I SO AM NOT. Mostly because I couldn't find a way to phrase it in any sort of a concise, witty manner.

(Not that I'm ever concise, and my wit is highly debatable.)

Anonymous said...

Um, Candy. In that aspect, a fake beard is a mind spinner: A girl who pretends to be a boy's girl, but really, she's the boy's girl, even though everyone believes the otherwise and though he's gay.

Ow. My brain hurts.

Anonymous said...

Oh, semantics, sematics. *waves hand airily* Besides, your brain LIKES the exercise, Maili.

EvilAuntiePeril said...

Blake would have probably approved of this entire exchange. Then asked everyone to hold their poses while he made an engraving of little one-eyed lesbian kittens emerging from the ark wearing shawls and fake beards.

As his muses, we'd be able to invite attractive people around to see our etchings. Also cool.

Anonymous said...

AHA! Now you have found a reason to visit us in NY, although Phoenix appears to be in the parts of NY only my civil-rights-defending lover has seen. Never mind. A quick jaunt and we too will be believers.

By the way, the scientists have found a way to combine two eggs (sperm, be damned!)... although it was quickly outlawed (according to my most feminist friend).

You and Cindy may yet become lesbian partners in crime.

Death xxx

EvilAuntiePeril said...

Death, sweetie, the creationist museum is merely the icing on a very thick, multi-layered stodgy cake of reasons to visit you guys in NY. Problem is you make it too easy for me, what with all this coming to visit friends over here regularly. Which I love, so please don't stop.

Oh. And I think I need to know more about the egg+egg thing. It sounds most intriguing. Igor, fetch the evil scientist! I have a job for him to do. Mwahahahah!