| Up: The Apartment on 9th St | [Related] «^» «T» |
Sunday, May 25, 2003
Taxidermy Postulate
By Paul Ford
...the sweetness of the morning fox.
Someone got me to sign up for Friendster. Do you know what that is?
—I so do not know.
You sign up and put up your picture, and connect to your friends, and meet their friends, and so forth, until someone gets pregnant. Like personals but even more objectifying.
—Did you put up a picture?
Oh yeah, a winsome one. My Friendster friend, she said, you look like a plush toy. She lives three blocks away but we're both there on Friendster, and on the phone. And I said, do you know what plushies are? And she said, no, and I said, plushies are people who modify stuffed animals for sexual purposes. There's a whole subculture. And she said, yeah, like the furries, and you know what's the next big fetish? It's taxidermy. You can just see it coming into its own.
—That's a terrific idea!
And we began to imagine this guy inviting a girl over to his place, and she gets there, and there's this stuffed fox with beady eyes and rotten fur, and he's shoved a pink sponge into its anus, and razor-slit the sponge. It's right by the bed on a special wood stand—
—the fur's all torn and rotten—
And the sponge is nasty, with one of the paws hanging by a flap of skin. And he doesn't mention it. If you ask, he'll tell you. But you know, it's up to you to accept him.
—Do you leave the room screaming, or try to stay and ignore it?
Because you're thinking, is he a foxfucker? And that fox is dead. This man is a dead foxfucker. Or a fucker of dead foxes, I mean.
—You're saying to yourself, I'm never using Nerve personals again.
You need a name for them. Like the furries.
—Deadeyes. Stuffers.
Taxis.
—That's perfect. Can you imagine a Taxi convention?
A room filled with molested pheasants.
—And the guy who brings the moose.
All the way from Canada. In a truck. He's the best guy.
—Very much in love.
And dedicated. He has a special stepladder.
—Then there's the beaver guy. Some teasing in junior high, a bit of semantic ambiguity, and here he is. He edits the newsletter.
—Yeah. They have to have one.
It's called Paws for Consideration.
—[Silence]
Paws, see, like—
—God, man, God.
![[Top]](art/EndFleur_40x21.gif "Top"){kind=small}
