Likes: terrorizing mortals; libraries; serious eyeshadow; chain wallets; suspiciously lifelike marble statues
Dislikes: people who aren't statues yet; bros; Perseus
[A pack of elaborately-dressed old-skool goths, outdoors]
I’m pretty sure I’ve reblogged this photo before, and so what. Look at these magnificent creatures! (Also, my craving for a red crushed velvet frock coat has increased YET AGAIN.)
Leipzig has a huge amateur wildlife photography community, what with the annual goth migration and such.
We feel a little guilty permitting Morrissey to continue believing that we actually put him in an invisible box, but it saves the zoo so much money on containment costs!
Every Spring, a vast migratory band of goths congregates in Leipzig, Germany. The goths’ presence dominates the cityscape for nearly a week before the creatures disperse, and local stocks of fishnets and clove cigarettes become dangerously low, while many disgruntled property owners report having to forcibly shoo bewildered goths out of adjacent alleys.
By and large, however, the goths have become a kind of mascot for the city, and many residents view the arrival of the goths as a herald that Spring has truly arrived. After only a few days, the goths will go their separate ways—some tagged specimens have been tracked as far away as Japan, Canada, and Russia—and life in Leipzig will return to normal. The most common reason wild animals congregate—to seek mates—does not apply to goths, who reproduce asexually. Why do they gather? What is the purpose of this strange migration? We just don’t know.
Iggy pop and David Bowie
Caring for hypermasculine subjects can often be an ordeal that can leave even the most experienced and devoted keepers exasperated and exhausted.
The photo shown here gives fine proof of that. Mr. Bowie showed a great deal of patience with Iggy when we were in the process of rehabilitating him, despite the inappropriate mounting and poo-flinging.
Occasionally though it became far too much for this distinguished scientist and he had to call for backup.
…iggy are you fellating that microphone
The Damned photographed by Ian Dickson.
Improved pest-control measures have caused the plague of The Damned afflicting many urban buildings to subside, with the result that large packs of The Damned are now roaming city streets, snarling oddly and stealing parking meters. Passersby often feel that these beasts are more to be pitied than feared, and one elderly lady, a Mrs. Harriet Smith (82), said that she even puts out scraps for The Damned on a regular basis. “Just look at the poor creatures,” Mrs. Smith told this reporter. “They’re all so pasty, and their coats are dull. Letting them starve is just cruelty.”
Despite the undoubted nobility of such sentiments, city officials wish us to remind readers that The Damned are wild animals, not pets. They do not belong in urban settings, and wildlife experts believe that if handouts cease, The Damned will gradually return to their native forests.
Our Varanus Howardensis, a nasty-tempered creature improbably nicknamed “Rowly” by its keepers (who, frankly, are odd individuals even by our standards here at the hypermasculine compound), is understood to be a species of overlarge monitor lizard that has developed the power of bipedal locomotion. Folklorists speculate that this real-life “giant lizard” may be the origin of Japanese stories of the gojira; the Howardensis is far too small to destroy entire cities, but it seems obvious that it certainly would do so if only it could.
Formerly companioned almost solely by our McGuckin (a small-boned, pretty, but equally sharp-tempered lizard of indeterminate genus) the Howardensis has recently begun insinuating itself into the hypermasculine enclosure and engaging in what seem to be friendly behaviors with “Tracy,” “Nick,” and “Mick.” Their play sometimes turns dangerous when “Nick” forgets himself and attempts an over-the-top display of dominance, goading ”Rowly” into wailing and spitting poison. A full team of keepers with nets and cattle prods is often required to separate the two beasts and return the Howardensis to its own enclosure, where it then attempts to vent its spleen at the deceptively delicate-looking McGuckin, who unceremoniously whacks it with her powerful tail.
Torpid during daylight hours, the Howardensis is primarily active at night, and its deep, sonorous vocalizations have lured multiple unwary security guards to their deaths. Earplugs are now mandatory for all personnel in the reptile exhibit—except for the herpetologists, who are not only immune to the sound, but even seem to enjoy the beast’s wailing, the weirdos.
This mysterious documentary footage, known only to us as the “Skorbut Song,” depicts a young Bargeld vocalizing, apparently while on display as part of an art exhibit. The dubious ethics of incorporating live animals into exhibits have been discussed at great length by philosophers; biologists are primarily interested in the film because of the information it provides about the behavior and appearance of the juvenile Bargeld.
The purpose, if any, of the creature’s vocalizations is not known. The title of the creature’s “song,” as provided by the documentarists, is actually an Old Norse word meaning “the screamer,” alternatively “the [one who] wails.” Linguists have long speculated that the word refers to an entirely mythological beast, so its use here to refer to a Bargeld is intriguing.
Animal behaviorists have expressed concern over this particular specimen’s thousand-yard-stare, harsh cries, and short, repetitive movements. In many captive animals, these symptoms would indicate stress, fear, or boredom, but our research indicates that these behaviors are common to young Bargelds, even in the wild. Even while gamboling with his friends “Nick” and “Mick,” our zoo’s Bargeld has been heard making a racket that would indicate suffering in extremis in any other specimen. The Bargeld’s behaviors cannot be interpreted in terms of those of other species.
[Teho Teardo and Blixa Bargeld in some Autumn leaves]
Photo : Thomas Rabsch
Dr. Teardo took the Bargeld for a walk today. His winter coat is coming in very nicely.
[Animated gif of a gorilla flinging a lump of what is hopefully just sod at some zoo workers]
Page 1 of 23