Ethan Switch - Friday, 28 October 2011
Sleeping bags crawling with caterpillars with the taste of human flesh are only going to happen when bred with mutant genes. Feed enough of these insects with scraps of human flesh and the smell will rot long before they develop the taste on their own. Nature takes care of its own taking care of its own.
Unless that own is the Javan rhino wandering into the poacher's range in Viet Nam. The last remaining pool swirling 50 left in the wilds of India and set to inbreed themselves out of recognition. It's tough to hide with a tough hide and a bullet gunning you down in the rough wide open spaces of the black market Asian pharmaceuticals.
The centrifugal forces of these medicine cabinets continue to spiral every day and collect all sorts of dubious samples and specimens.
But animals, see, are as progressive as the genre of House Vs. Hurricane. Unlike a band twittering on a smartphone with no stake in their own domain, these beasts of nature hold their own and take one as they can to right the unrighted imbalance on the karmic scales.
Speak one for a small group in Nepal, snorting slivers of leopard meat for the mystic protection qualities against gout. Surprise then when a leopard stalks a Bela village and comes collecting on its bill.
Big cats don't have knuckles to rap on doors, so when they audit, the locals best keep an ear out as they turn off the TV and radio, shutter the blinds and listen out for when the elders from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints close that front gate and head to your neighbour's instead.
When a leopard plucks a baby, the figurative play soon follows up with a baby plucked from Turkey.
Birds, in country or flame, take their size and dial it down for the attacks in retribution and revenge.
After setting up a few eagles to sit around guarding against seagulls at a Hawks vs Magpies AFL match, don't be surprised when a real feathered magpie takes cue.
Especially if you're a young fresh mop of hair walking through a park in Toowoomba. A magpie for an eye and 23 other birds are still baked in a pie costing six pence.