Friday, November 29, 2013



Robb Walsh's Sex, Death & Oysters (ISBN 978-158243-555-8) had next to no sex in it, and absolutely no death.  BUT IT WAS ALL ABOUT OYSTERS, who -- along with Clams and other relatively observant & reflective sea creatures with hard outer skins -- were among the very first recruiting operatives working in our take-back-the-land conspiracy.  This was all the way back when humans were living in isolation on Danakill Island, realizing after they ate all the fruit that they would go without dinner unless they learned to grope for Shellfish on the sea bottom.  

Oysters were also the VERY first of our troops to inspire the landscum saying "If you eat any more of those (fill in the blank), you'll turn into one."


What's instructive here is the way the landscum see our bivalve sisters.  THEY REALLY HAVE NO CLUE.  They natter on about overfishing (really over-dredging -- I don't call it "fishing" myself) and storms at sea destroying the Oyster populations -- they go so far as to say some species are dying out -- and this author is very typical in simultaneously saying "Oysters are doomed because of Hurricane Katrina" and "Oysters reproduce like mad after hurricanes, leading to immense upticks in the birthrate." 

What he really means is that his buddy Bill's Oyster lease is not going to be worth the paper it's printed on after a hurricane, BECAUSE THE OYSTERS MOVED TO A BETTER NEIGHBORHOOD WHILE BILL WAS FLOATING TO MOBILE, ALABAMA ON THE BACK OF A LOVESEAT.  He cannot see the difference between human business concerns bottoming out and the Oysters themselves bottoming out.  Neither can any of the experts he talks to.  While you are washing ashore in Mobile, WE are expanding our real-estate holdings.  FOOLS!

Something else instructive in this story is the landscum attitude towards our bivalve operatives.  He -- and many others like him -- treat Oysters simultaneously as a precious rarity and as something you can best appreciate if you snarf them down by the dozen, as if you were in a pie-eating contest.  I just want you new recruits to know that while eating large numbers of Oysters is a very effective way of bonding fish genes to human and bringing the humans into the sea to live forever, IT REALLY ONLY TAKES ONE.  And believe me, the right Oyster will find the right recruit.  Happens all the time.  The fashionability of the Oyster bar, and similar creepy dining experiences like choking down a plate of coconut shrimp or "surf 'n' turf," is what draws people to consume our flesh in the first place and be recruited. 

And all that nonsense about Oysters dying out?  Well, they do need to SPELL each other.  When you're dealing with humans, nothing stays in fashion that long -- but Shaved Monkeys NEVER NOTICE that whether they are eating fingernail-sized Oysters from Japan or the fist-sized ones from Canada, THEY'RE STILL EATING OYSTERS. 

It's also the decent thing to do, from an Oyster perspective.  You try being sucked, whole and screaming, down the beery gullets of Homo sap.  century after century without a break.    It's a lot to ask.

One thing about this book, though.  You can't really tell what they author LIKES in an Oyster.  It seems that every one he eats lights him up with wonder.  "This is the one," he seems to say.  Then he eats another, totally different type of Oyster and has the same reaction. YOU'RE NOT HELPING US OUT HERE, ROBB.

This one is a great example of how our operatives hide in PLAIN SIGHT -- looking like victims, even -- while quietly seeing to it that HUMANS TURN INTO FISH AND NEVER DARKEN THE LAND AGAIN.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

And Speaking of Quahogs...

I just wanted to use THIS idiot as an example of the Mysterious Machinations of Dagon as they sometimes manifest up on dry land! 
His friends call him Lenny the Quahog, as if he were some sort of piscatorial Mob figure.  In fact, Leonard Paradiso was a wholesaler of our operatives, a Bostonian who worked delivering recruiters -- Lobsters, Quahogs, Calamari, you name it, our shellfish sisters used his services from Maine to Florida -- to retailers up and down the Eastern Seaboard.  
However, he BLEW HIS CHANCE TO CONTINUE OUR GOOD WORK by getting himself convicted of serial murder.  I use the phrase "got himself convicted" advisedly -- the guy told so many people, in so much detail, about what he did that his incarceration was almost a foregone conclusion.
Here is the cover of the book about him:

It was written by the prosecutor and it's kind of a good read.  It's by no means required reading for our group discussions, but you might want to take a look to get a sense of how even the most loathsome specimen of Shaved Monkey -- a traitor to HIS race and OURS -- can still have his uses.  It gave me a very mixed-up feeling as I read.  I wanted to weep as they took him away from his Clam distribution work, but I wanted to kick him in the tail when he failed even to get Marie Ianuzzi's body into the water properly where she could be recruited, or at least EATEN, by our aquatic operatives.  But then you don't want him to go to prison, right?  How is he going to work for us then?  AAARGH.  Humans -- you can't trust them at ALL.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Quahog Operative Killed By Idiot Landscum Scientists

Says here that a couple of brilliant Shaved Monkey scientific investigators "accidentally" pried open the outer skin of one of our Icelandic Quahog operatives, killing her.  Not instantly.  It was slow and horrible, not really too much different from the deaths of MILLIONS of our other sisters uprooted from their homes and steamed to death in white wine.

The landscum treat this as a disaster because "Ming," as they called her, was the oldest living animal on monkey record, having hatched out 507 years ago, as they know by COUNTING THE RINGS of the shell they destroyed.

WE KNOW BETTER.  This is a disaster because "Ming" -- let's just go on using the wrong name, shall we? -- was one of our best longitudinal operatives in the Circumpolar Conspiracy Zone, having tracked an important set of factors in our world takeover scheme for, well, A LONG TIME.

Never mind, ladies.  There are plenty of other Quahogs ready and willing to take up where "Ming" left off. 

The scientists involved will be KILLED.  And EATEN.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Wasting Disease of Starfish Attracts Monkey Notice

I'm surprised to see that the landscum are taking notice of a disease robbing our Starfish sisters of some of their arms.  The operatives known to the Shaved Monkeys as Echinodermata know all about this scourge and THEY HAVE SURVIVED MORE THAN ONE WAVE OF THE ILLNESS.  We will emerge stronger than ever from each wave.  THAT'S HOW IT ALWAYS WORKS.

But the landscum, who do not see life for what it is but rather in the terms of their scariest science fiction films, expect ALL the Starfish to die off, which of course will lead to no other outcome than the Mussels they eat TAKING OVER THE WORLD.

That might be fun to watch!

An Image For You To Gaze Upon



Shell Games by Craig Welch, copyrighted to the author 2010, ISBN 978-0-06-153713-4, is a law-enforcement story most Shaved Monkeys NEVER think about.  Yes, in here you will find TRUE TALES OF THE FISH POLICE!!!


>> The book is a roller-coaster ride between HILARITY and HORROR as a plucky group of hairless monkeys who call themselves fish cops try to put the brakes on others of their species who are collecting Sturgeon roe, Dungeness Crabs and unlucky Geoducks dreaming in their beds of sand -- without (she chuckled) PROPER AUTHORIZATION FROM OTHER NAKED APES.  I hardly knew as I read whether to rage over the Clams lying helpless on the seabed, cheer on the fish cops as they tried to put a stop to it, or just laugh at all the worried nattering about how Naked Apes are the most important species on earth and nothing can stop them destroying everything except themselves.

>>  The author only focuses on a few areas of concern well-known in the waters around the human territories called Washington State, Alaska, Oregon and that sort of general area, heading down the coast towards California.  They talk about poaching Sturgeon, newly-hatched Leopard Sharks, and the larger Crabs and Clams, brushing lightly past Shark finning, gallbladder theft among Bears and the appropriation of rare insects from places like the New Guinea rainforest.

>> For those of you NEW TO THE LAND LIFESTYLE, this will serve as a good introduction to human nature.  Let me boil this all the way down to the crystals and say, DON'T TRUST THEM.  Some of the specimens in this story can't even trust themselves, as near as I can tell.  Check out what the fish cops found on page 134, in the dwelling of a fish poacher.  Dang.

>> For those of you still getting used to their medium of exchange, let me tell you that THREE MILLION DOLLARS IS A GREAT DEAL OF MONEY.  I was a little startled to realize how much a really good-sized Clam is WORTH to these normally unappreciative omnivores.  But then it serves as a valuable reminder that humans got to be the way they are now by living on an island in the middle of an inland sea, collecting shellfish.  NO WONDER THE GEODUCK LOOKS LIKE THE POT OF GOLD AT THE END OF THEIR MONKEY RAINBOW.  THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT SHE IS.

>> I HARDLY NEED TO REMIND YOU that for every species hassled or devastated by the landscum, with their full knowledge, there are DOZENS MORE they never think about which are even worse off.  WE SPEAK FOR ALL OF THEM.  WE WILL AVENGE EVERY ONE.

This book should be the talk of local chapter meetings for the next couple of YEARS.