Illustration by Andreas Hykade. Courtesy of Chris Robinson.

Monthly provocative, drunken, idiotic ramblings from the North…

Every culture has its own animal stories. When we tell stories about animals acting like humans, we are better able to see ourselves in the Circle of Life.

-- Roy Disney

Wo... man... a talkin' dog?!... What were you guys smokin'?

-- Otto

It's amazing how much one utterly barely worthy of being deemed disposable film triggered in my cerebrum, but it was during the process of losing about 80 minutes of my life that I had one of those bizarre Dutch skunk induced seizures. Minutes that I WILL remember when I'm fighting those last conscious moments, struggling to breath my last breathes of love and wisdom to family and friends. Slowly, gently, shaking my head as it struggles unsuccessfully to remain upright, only to collapse into the stiff uncaring pillow. I see white all around me, the illimitable sky. The swans float serenely along the dawdling sky hued riverbed enveloped by an awe-inspiring transcendent harmony that we cannot speak, cannot imagine. This silent paradise is soon interrupted by the sound of human voices and musical instruments. No...wait.... It's coming from the swans. But how is this? How can it be that they breathe my language? It turns out that my final fleeting spiritual embodiment, the final step toward wholeness and harmony is but a scene from a fucking animation film I saw decades ago. This is no path to paradise, it is the beginning of my eternal residence in hell, where for ridiculing all that the gods deemed sacred and pure, I am forced to re-live scenes from The Trumpet of The Swan.

You know when those few spliffs of Dutch skunk have finally clicked in the brain? It's usually when you realize that you've been obsessing over how men's shaving commercials always have women in them for what seems like hours, but it's only been seconds. When you're listening to, say, The Who, and you are able to tune out everything but Entwistle's bass. You hear his frantic rumbling thumps clearer than ever before. It was kinda like that during Trumpet. The concept of talking animals overwhelmed me. Animals as human stand-ins suddenly seemed like the strangest, most absurd action imaginable. Remember The Simpsons' bit about the sex-ed film where they used fluffy bunnies to teach children about sex? Why on earth would you teach children/adults ideas about the human world using squirrels and ducks and horses? It's absolutely eye rolling, head quiveringly insane.