Monday, December 27, 2010

Secrets Of Killer Crab, Lobster And Shrimp Operatives Appear Safe, For The Nonce

I decided to do one of my impromptu online surveys to see what the Monkey Salesmen are asking for books about OUR OPERATIVES. I also wanted to see what sort of titles were available. The results have been quite encouraging. I typed "CRUSTACEAN" into the search box at and look what I found:

In The Wrong Place: Alien Marine Crustaceans by Galil, Clark & Carlton: $190.42, MARKED DOWN from $229! I wish I could see the looks on their rubbery monkey faces if we filled those pages with the TRUE facts about WHOM we are infiltrating, and WHERE. What happened to that big smile, Monkey?

Chemical Communication In Crustaceans by Breithaupt & Thiel: $255.83, MARKED DOWN from $279! And the priced-to-download Kindle edition? $223.20!

Reproductive Biology Of Crustaceans: Case Studies Of Decapod Crustaceans by Elena Mente: $129.95! Used copies available starting at only $96.99! You're going to love the eyestalk-popping erotic photo of the blue Lobsters on the front cover. Bring that one home in a plain brown wrapper!

The CRC Handbook Of Mariculture, Volume I: Crustacean Aquaculture, by would-be Crab terrorist James McVey, only $305.91!

The World Market For Extracts And Juices of Meat, Fish, Crustaceans, Mollusks, And Aquatic Invertebrates: A 2009 Global Trade Perspective by the Icon Group: Only $595!!! Someone pass me a Clamato cocktail, NOW!

Crustaceans And The Biodiversity Crisis: Proceedings Of The Fourth International Crustacean Congress, Amsterdam, by Frederick Schram and J.C. Von Vaupel, in the deluxe library binding, a bargain at $409! WE WERE THERE, ALL RIGHT. AND VON VAUPEL NEVER SPOTTED US! It makes me laugh when I think about the way they are meeting to make plans for us without our knowledge, when in fact only a handful of the attendees are human!

The World Market For Fresh Or Chilled Crustaceans Including Flours, Meals And Pellets Thereof For Human Consumption: A 2009 Global Trade Perspective, again by the Icon Group, and once again priced to own at only $595! There is something about fish flour that makes me get all swoony when I think about it.

The Crustacean Nervous System by a feller named Konrad Wiese, for the sofa-change price of $399. HOW CAN YOU TURN THAT DOWN?

The World Market For Animal Feed Made From Fish, Crustaceans, Mollusks, Or Aquatic Invertebrates: A 2009 Global Trade Perspective, by our old buddies down at the Icon Group and priced to sell at $595!

Advances In Decapod Crustacean Research by Paula, Flores and Fransen, the hardcover priced at a tempting $155 (used copies starting at $178.79 -- ???), the paperback nearly as irresistable at $123.28, marked down from $155...OK, I don't get the prices on this title at all.

Now, this title may be the best of them all. Are you ready?

The World Market For Products Of Fish, Crustacean, Mollusk, Or Aquatic Invertebrate Products That Are Unfit For Humans To Eat: brought to your electronic shopping cart by YOU KNOW WHO for the fire-sale price of only $595!!! When I look at this title -- I have done it twenty-three times so far -- it always makes me smile, because you and I know THE HUMANS WILL EAT EVERY BITE. AND THEY WILL LIKE IT.



>> And you know about this sort: THEY WON'T MENTION THEIR INSIGHTS TO ANYONE.

>> There is EVEN MORE information in here about the agendas and plans of the authors and their hilarious schemes to control our operatives. IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. WE ARE CALLING ALL THE SHOTS.

>> Do they really imagine that CRABS CAN'T READ?

>> These prices are seriously geared to keep the curious far, far away from the books. Heck, so is the stilted scientifical-type language of the text. Some of these babies are better than ANY SLEEPING PILL ON THE MARKET.

>> Oh, this is too good not to mention. One of the authors listed above met three of our operatives last week in a dark corner of a fern bar in Smolensk. That gentleman was KILLED. And EATEN. No, I'm not posting the name on the Internet. An accurate replacement has already stepped smoothly into the discarded life of that happy recruit, who squelches EVEN NOW in the Roiling Intestine of Dagon. Is there any happier fate for a human?

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Saturday, December 25, 2010

Thought For The Day


Wednesday, December 22, 2010

New High-Yielding Oyster "Breakthrough"

I have been fielding calls and letters about this one ever since a Dec 14th article in the online fish newspaper,
The Underwater Times, announced the development of a spectacular "double-hybrid" Oyster that is supposed to grow TWICE AS FAST as the others, increasing yields and potentially pushing many of our sisters OUT OF BUSINESS as recruiters.



>> More Oysters on the market means MORE RECRUITMENT, period. How can that be bad?

>> Bigger, healthier Oysters means BETTER RECRUITING -- potentially fewer "near misses." I HAVE BEEN A RECRUITER MYSELF AND KNOW HOW INFURIATING THOSE CAN BE. And let's be real -- "the one that got away" is MUCH MORE IMPORTANT to us, the fishers of men, than it could ever be to the fools who think they are the ones catching US on a baited hook.

>> I don't know, but LIKE TO THINK that more Oysters on the market means MORE OYSTER BARS. These temples of self-sacrifice -- built and maintained in the name of bringing humans and fish together -- need to proliferate like the Rats in Detroit. I am not going to insert a joke here about the shellfishness or unshellfishness of our operatives in going, screaming and amputated, down the gullets of those we mean to recruit. Because that would be stupid.


>> I TOTALLY AGREE with everyone's concerns about the marginalization of other Oysters. WE ALL WANT A SHOT AT COMBINING OUR GENES WITH THOSE OF AN UNSUSPECTING NAKED APE. Not to mention the small matter of genetic diversity, something humans manage to overlook constantly. Maybe we can start a counteroffensive along the lines of those rebel farmers and gardeners keeping alive the old breeds of cattle and chickens, along with the wild & native species and old flower hybrids. It's something to discuss in the chapter meetings.

>> I don't need to point out, do I, that these "greatly improved double hybrids" are likely to look, taste and smell like something you'd order out of a clown's mouth and pick up at a drive-thru window? We all know what an "improved hybrid" means in any other species. THIS MUST NOT HAPPEN, LADIES.

>> I HATE IT AS MUCH AS YOU DO that this development stands to promote Monkey business. We want their industry, banks and cities to WITHER AWAY. Look at all the progress we've made, again, in Detroit! WE WANT THIS TREND TO CONTINUE.

My suggestion is that everyone get out their copies of Consider The Oyster for some devotional reading. In order to focus everyone's energies properly, this week's chapter meeting supper menu, THROUGHOUT THE NORTH AMERICAN RECRUITMENT ZONE, will have Hang Town Fry as its centerpiece.

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Saturday, December 18, 2010



It was released in 2010, to less-than-thundering reviews, but I CAN'T IMAGINE WHY. You will NOT find a better movie to put you in the mood for the holiday season. You can find it RIGHT NOW at your local video outlet. Don't rent it. BUY IT.

PLOT SUMMARY: The usual collection of irritating, slightly inebriated twentysomethings rent a plane to go to a concert. One of them is a newly-minted pilot, and obviously she has money falling out of every bodily orifice, because how many twentysomethings can you name who can afford to rent a plane for the weekend on top of paying for concert tickets, huh? The others -- who also radiate privilege in their polo shirts and highlighted hair -- are pretty nervous about flying with her, but she assures them repeatedly that everything is under control. They are just starting to settle down and enjoy themselves when BAD THINGS START HAPPENING. Not just a few bad things, either.
>> More negative events you will never see in ANY movie I can think of, not even The Perfect Storm. Whatever happened on board the Andrea Gail in her last hours above the surface of the ocean, at least there were unlikely to be any incidents of bad guitar playing, ODs on Dramamine, malicious destruction of rare comic books or traumatic childhood flashbacks. You got all these and MUCH, MUCH MORE in Altitude. Including a GIANT FLYING SQUID. That's what I said.
>> The pace never lets up in this film! One bad thing happens, then a new bad thing, then another, and a whole new bad thing happens after THAT, and just as you're about to forget the first two bad things that happened, they swim up and bite you in the adze again. Then something new happens that's worse than everything that came before. The whole story goes like this, but somehow it never gets laughable. I kept waiting for it to get all stoopid-ridonkulous, like Final Destination, but it never happened. NOT TOO SHABBY.
>> The characters are so irritating that whenever one of them comes to a bad end, YOU FEEL ALL WARM AND HAPPY INSIDE. Then you turn eagerly to see what befalls the survivors.
>> The interpersonal dynamics are remarkably complex for a movie of this sort, even though every character is virtually a cardboard cutout. I never lost interest in the character development for a second. Who knew a cardboard cutout COULD develop?
>> Freudians take note: Is this GIANT FLYING SQUID, or is he not, the perfect image of the vagina dentata? Maybe I should stop referring to the star of the show as "he." Heh.
>> I loved the unfolding explanation for everything that happened, and I even loved the sappy, soft-focus ending. BECAUSE I KNEW THAT GIANT FLYING SQUID WAS WAITING IN THE WINGS until after the end credits rolled. The forces of PISCATORIAL LOVE that called him forth in the first place ARE STILL RIGHT THERE, and our tentacled friend will inevitably come a-callin'...
>> I love the uncertainty we maintain thoughout the movie. What makes the GIANT FLYING SQUID appear when he does? When he goes, where does he go? Where, exactly, is the plane while all this is going on? Just how long can you fly a plane blind, in a series of uncontrolled ascents and then steep plunges, before you finally hit something? Just how long can the plane fly WITHOUT GAS? How much longer will the pilot abandon the joystick to argue about her childhood issues with her boyfriend? No matter how many answers you get, the questions just keep coming, AND ALL THE ANSWERS SEEM TO DEFY THE LAWS OF PHYSICS.
>> And isn't that what true, pure, piscatorial love is all about? It's as if the Spirit of Squidmas were reaching through the portholes of that embattled little plane, saying, "HAVE NO FEAR -- ALL IS WELL."
>> I hardly need to add that this movie is the perfect, indeed unhoped-for, companion to Dagora, Space Monster. You could make an evening of it -- the kindly tentacles of Santa Squid snaking out of nowhere and ripping away everything you THOUGHT was important. Next thing you know, you're safe in the Roiling Intestine of Dagon...
>> I would watch the Toho feature first, if I were you.

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Monday, December 13, 2010

Last-Minute Squidmas Shopping Suggestions

Give the gift of Sea Monkeys!

Anything you can give that reminds the recipient of
Goldfish is a great idea.

Any other kind of toy-like fishy item for the kiddies is good, too, of course. Here's another choice available from the site above.

All things Ray Troll may be found
here, INCLUDING all-occasion piscatorial greeting cards.

This is the time of year for Cuttlefish, Cuttlefish, Cuttlefish!

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Here's a little pre-Squidmas reading to get you in a holiday mood...

This little science "fiction" novel originally came out in 1962. My copy was published by Millennium, an imprint of Victor Gollancz, in London. WHAT A DELIGHTFUL READ.

The story is simple. HUMAN CIVILIZATION IS BARELY HANGING ON after a series of solar mishaps and a bit of geological upheaval, plus the melting of ye olde polar ice caps. A few Naked Apes survive, clinging to their monkeyfied customs at Camp Byrd at the North Pole -- the only corner of the planet that still supports human life comfortably.


The story traces the progress of a biologist named Robert Kerans, who is on a mapping expedition with some sort of military unit. They are far to the south of human territory, paddling above the flooded ruin of a large city which later proves to be London, England. In the manner of Shaved Monkeys everywhere, the uniformed survivors GRASP FOR A SEMBLANCE OF CONTROL, going through the motions of tracking what is going on in territory they can no longer inhabit. They know full well there is NO REASON TO DO SO, but they also feel THERE IS NOTHING ELSE LEFT TO DO.


>> Only about 5 million Naked Apes are alive at this point. That's about twice the population of Detroit, Michigan. HOW SOON CAN WE MAKE THIS HAPPEN??

>> Only about 1 in 10 human marriages now produces children. THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU STRIP OFF THE OZONE LAYER, KIDDIES. KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK.
>> It seems not to have occurred to them that they are living in a virtual Garden of Eden, the lost paradise they've been mourning ever since they noticed that they'd destroyed it. In a word full of plentiful, gorgeous fruits and swarming schools of fish, the humans are living out of cans -- bully beef, evaporated milk, that sort of thing. THIS SURVIVAL STRATEGY WILL ONLY KILL THEM OFF SOONER.

>> A few renegade Naked Apes are out freebooting, killing off anyone they don't like the looks of, so they can do stupid stuff like collecting gold-plated statuary from the flooded buildings. The author is quite honest about the pointlessness of this sort of activity. He also implies, without really spelling it out, that this only speeds up the process of RENDERING THE HUMAN RACE EXTINCT.

>> Kerans is in the process of joining a subset of humanity starting to experience strange dreams. They consistently describe these derams as horrifying nightmares requiring treament...but horrifying to WHOM, exactly? Kerans quickly finds out that he is not horrified at all by the dreams, which are clearly the awakening of his PISCATORIAL CONSCIOUSNESS. A quote from page 71: "Kerans felt, beating within him like his own pulse, the powerful mesmeric pull of the baying reptiles, and stepped out into the lake, whose waters now seeemed an extension of his own bloodstream. As the dull pounding rose, he felt the barriers which divided his own cells from the surrounding medium dissolving, and he swam forwards, spreading outwards across the black thudding water..." His fellows, those who are also experiencing the dreams, are losing all interest in Shaved Monkey lifestyles and are GOING OVER THE WALL, one by one, to COMMUNE WITH THE WATER.
>> Know what's missing from this book, though? US. THE FISH. The humans go on and on about how the planet is reverting to the Age of the Reptiles, paying no attention whatsoever to the fact that almost the whole planet is now UNDERWATER, and there is blasted little room for the reptiles, let alone the mammals. WHO DO THEY REALLY THINK IS IN CHARGE, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD? THE EASTER BUNNY? I have to say I'm not entirely unhappy about this. If humans want to blame their destruction on the Iguanas, well, that just keeps us out of their line of sight, right? He does mention Eels towards the end, but he seems to put an equals sign between Eels and snakes. WHATEVER, DUDE. The author never makes the connection between the Eels, who can live easily on both water and land, and the increasingly water-oriented humans. The author's oversight just helps cover up OUR PLANS FOR THE HUMAN RACE.
This one has been out of print for a long time, but your library or used bookstore should have it. Waterproof copies are, alas, at a premium.

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