Monday, August 23, 2004

What's Happening to Choire Sicha's Squirrel?


We heart Choire Sicha, who, for many mornings has given us quite the reluctant smile over our daily Kenyan java. But something strange is happening to Choire Sicha's squirrel, something wicked this way comes, we can feel it in our bones. Not to be confused with Vincent Gallo's Brown Bunny, which, I have it on good word, is rabid, this particular squirrel, the brass art nouveau rodent that adorns is systematically being X-ed out of the blogosphere leading us to ask: what the fuck?

The squirrel has long been an object of fascination in the blogosphere, carrying with it the vague air of menace, a cachet of confusion. What, pray tell, does it signify? Is it an ancient work of art? Is it a curio from his old gallery? Does it's secret origins lie in some lost civilization? Does it confer to Choire super powers? What is it?

And, on the subject of squirrels, of course, one turns automatically to the University of Colorado squirrel page, which says, of Choire's whiskers (aka, the Gawker Stalkers):

"Eastern gray squirrels have four sets of whiskers located above and below the eyes, on the underside of the head in front of the throat, and on the nose. Whiskers, also known as vibrissae are touch receptors that provide the animal with information about its immediate surroundings."

Immediate surroundings and immediate celebrities, no doubt, trying, in vain, to digest a meal, a simple repast, unaccosted by stalkers, no thanks to Choire and his (sarcastic air quotes) "whiskers."

All well and good, but I quote Choire from his very own website, to wit: "On June 1, 2004, the squirrel that for quite some time marked this website began to die. It's nearly invisible now, as you can see, all white and see-through. Fairly soon, I will no longer be the squirrel at all. Goodbye, sad kingdom of squirreldom. Too bad, but change is on me.

"Not sure what animal I'll be next, but we'll all certainly see as soon as I find out."

*The Corsair shudders*

And, we cannot fail to mention the striking similarities -- we are not implying anything here, mind you -- with Red Dragon antagonist and serial killer Francis Dollarhyde:

"I am the Dragon. / And you call me insane. / You are privy to a great becoming, but you recognize nothing. / You are an ant in the afterbirth. / It is your nature to do one thing correctly. / Before me, you rightly tremble. / But, fear is not what you owe me. / You owe me awe."

The blogosphere collectively trembles at the dawning of The Feral Brown Squirrel.

The rest of the Choire Sicha Roast here (we love you, Choire)

1 comment:

Allison Bojarski said...

I miss the squirrel already.