A Rather Humorless Kind of Humor

I feel like Aragorn, at the moment in the first LOTR movie when he kneels before Frodo and says in that heartbreaking whisper, "I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor."

At least, in my head I feel like I keep saying that over, and over. It might be similar. Frodo replies, "I know." Because you know Aragorn would have gone, but his place was elsewhere. And Frodo knows that Aragorn's place is elsewhere, and that is why he lets Strider go, as it were. (And, as a proclaimed Tolkien nerd, you might be wondering why I'm referencing the movie, and the answer is: because in my head I'm kind of like Viggo Mortensen, but a girl--a badass girl with weapons galore and a five o'clock shadow...no, too far. No beard.)

Break-ups usually leave me feeling the pangs of Aragorn's dilemma, as I think of it. Not because my relationships are always worthy of a Fellowship, but because I don't know what to do when the relationship is over. In a way, we fought battles together, overcame "Boromirs", of a sort, and kept the Ring secret and safe, or something, and now it's time for me to ride off and find a new kingdom and bring the armies of Middle Earth together in a final battle--what was I talking about? Oh, hobbits.

I don't have any hobbits to save. Maybe, if I did, I would stop reaching for my cell phone to text Frodo about some mundane activity I did that no one in their right mind would want to know about that, for some reason, people in relationships live to know about.

I suppose no one is taking the hobbits to Isengard...? No? Fine, but I'll look into some warrior classes, just in case...

Anatomy of a Dinosaur T-rex Edition

Essential facts that a survivor needs to know (see previous post for specific 'raptor survival instructions)

To begin: A t-rex is bigger than you. Not in the way that a basketball player is bigger than you, or your older brother. Not even in the way a bully can appear bigger than you while really being smaller. To properly appreciate the size of a t-rex, attempt to push over a medium-sized skyscraper; it will be unaware of your existence, your efforts are vain, and you look ridiculous.

Second: Unlike that skyscraper, the t-rex is aware of you. He is always aware of you, even when you are standing very, very still. He is aware. Imagine that the world's best sniper is using a laser to pinpoint your exact spot, but he is leagues away from you and the laser is overly sensitive to anything moving in the area. It is just a matter of time before the laser adapts and narrows in: Target acquired.

Proceeding: The t-rex does not have a sniper rifle (thankfully). He has something worse (uh-oh). Uh-oh is the correct expression. Think of a great white shark's teeth. They are used for shredding and snapping seals, and other prey, quickly and viciously, ending life or dismembering limb in a single snap. The only thing similar between a great white shark and a t-rex is the sharp first row of teeth. Only, a t-rex has larger teeth. And, unfortunately for you, a t-rex does not end life in one quick snap. He gnaws, twisting at a limb until it is ripped off, holding down his prey with his large skyscraper-like back leg. And then he finds he is bored and leaves his victim, probably alive, for a later snack.

To conclude: I have briefed you on the basic dangers of this goliath. You may wonder, What can I do to survive? You can join the revolution.

With me.

And my velociraptor army.

Or perish, probably.

I dreamed about velociraptors in Valencia Town Mall last night. But they were the size of dogs and spunky and someone was ripping their hearts out. And a bear had learned to use the elevator.

Ghosts.

Walking among the remains.

I started my morning by running around in my underwear, screaming "DINOSAURS OH MY GOSH DINOSAURS!" The running included an impromptu little jig atop my mother's bed while she stood in her bathroom brushing her hair. I was so excited I just could not finish getting ready. Because today I went to the new dinosaur hall at the LA Museum of Natural History.

Walking among the remains of the dead sounds morbid. Staring at their disconnected vertebrae in a display case sounds sick. Standing beside their skulls and smiling for a picture is just plain disrespectful. All this I thought about as I walked into the exhibit, and completely disregarded as soon as the first creature was seen, raising its head over the crowd of jumbling humans.

It was like a dream. I knew I was seeing and yet it seemed unimaginable. These beasts had to survive in a world of violence and natural catastrophe. I stood entranced, enthralled, overwhelmed. I think I could almost sense the dedication gone into uncovering their skeletal remains, and it made me love them though I was terrified. I am a sucker for the complex and beautiful machinery, and nothing is so beautiful and complex as a dinosaur.

"What happened, you guys!?!?!"
To begin with, fossilization blows my mind. Minerals filling in the bone cavity as it decays away and staying preserved like that beneath the ground--I just feel like someone left it there, just knew we'd want to see it 25 million years later. It feels so unlikely, the whole process, doesn't it? When we are really left with so very few human remains from the first of us to evolve 4 million years ago. But dinosaurs, who roamed the earth long before humans made their first steps, are scattered over our continents. And I am so glad they are.

There is something so extraordinary about them. What the hell happened to them!? I kept hearing the most popular theories of their demise, but none of it really explained why so many are found in clumps, does it? Or why they are found with things inside of them, like fetuses, partially digested food, rocks even.

And we have to speculate about their bone structure because the bones aren't found all nicely connected. We get things wrong, and correct them, and a whole understanding of a certain dinosaur, previously accepted, becomes irrelevant. When I got home I watched Jurassic Park III, which has a spinosaurus in it, a dinosaur I assumed Spielberg or someone had made up. According to the Discovery Channel, however, the dinosaur is real. The problem is, the only known complete fossil of it was destroyed during WWII. Which is why you don't really hear much about the spinosaurus, as our entire understanding of it is based off of the German scientist's journal.

Knowing this does not dilute my fascination with them. Personally, I trust these paleontologists, and admire them for their years and years of dedicated study. But more than that, I can't forget these beings, these creatures of goliath, of terrifying beauty: they are true excitement. They have never faded but have stretched their existence across millions of years. They are perhaps the truly eternal, and I respect them for it.

Night drive.

Sometimes when I'm driving home late at night, and there is no one on the road, I like to pretend that orca whales are swimming in the lane next to mine, jumping in and out from the asphalt, and, because my car is black and small, they think I'm one of them and they accompany me home.

Velociraptors: Cats in scales.

I recently finished watching Jurassic Parks I and II. I was watching the crew members behind the scenes, creating from bones creatures that had been dead for 65 million years (give or take) and they based the dinosaur movements off of relatives of dinosaurs that are alive today: elephants, giraffes, crocodiles, and rhinos. (It was awesome; they were all running around committing to being the animals.)

Anyways with this in mind I was watching the scene in the second movie where the velociraptors are hiding in the long grass (like the clever girls they are) and I immediately giggled out, "CATS!"to which my sister agreed. Its the way they whip their tails about and crouch down, stalking their prey. And I knew that the film was trying to be accurate and therefore that is definitely how raptors move and I am positive that cats are distant relatives of a direct line.

It makes sense. First, cats enjoy killing for fun. Second, cats stalk their prey. Third, cats eat things while they are still alive. Fourth, they walk on the balls of their feet (and would love heels).

I'm looking into their ability to hunt as a horde (as raptors are known to do).

Raptors wear heels.

Thinking about the fashion show made me think about velociraptors walking the cat walk. And to be honest, that would be more entertaining than anything else coming down the cat walk.

But this leads to the problem of what velociraptors would wear for a fashion show. And I decided they would wear heels. And this is based solely on the way the raptors march around in Jurassic Park.

They're always up on the balls of their feet, right? Which obviously means that they're like Barbie and have feet perfectly molded for heels. Heels are really the only thing that you could be wearing on a night out that wouldn't inhibit you in a fight but actually help you. Personally, the first thing I always say after sliding into my leather heels is "Bam. Ready for damage." You don't want to be on the other end of my heeled boot if I'm on a rampage, and I'm just a tiny lady. Think of the raptor in heels. On a rampage.

Yeah.

So, a velociraptor fashion show would consist of raptors marching down the catwalk in heels (probably brown, because black heels would just clash with their scales, you know? Got to accentuate the scales, not overpower them with a stark black heel. OMG I could totally be a velociraptor fashion designer. Dream job.) And of course the cat walk would be white (at the beginning; later there would more than likely be blood spattered on it--new art!) and the smarter people would be farther away from the catwalk (for safety reasons) but of course the raptors would be on leather leashes that matched their boots. But, you know, they're clever girls, raptors...

It would be the fashion show of all centuries. Obviously.