Stowaway!

Beppe is in so much trouble now.  Oh boy.

I went down to visit the Southern Domicile on Friday, as well as to take care of a few things and go salsa-dancing with AJD and EHC (who was also visiting).  I opened my suitcase to take out my toothbrush, and guess who popped out?

Of course it was Beppe.  He was so glad to be there, too; the moment AJD came in to see what the deal was, Beppe launched himself at him in a flurry of excited yips.  I'm really not sure how he managed to stay quiet for the whole bus trip from NYC to Philly, although I guess he spent the bus journey proper in the baggage hold where no one would hear him.

 

 

Rochester and the Fox gave Beppe a very stern talking-to.  He was initially unrepentant, but after a few minutes he started feeling more contrite.

Beppe unrepentant

Beppe contrite

We could just see Alfredo freaking out and the temporary Northern Domicile crawling with questing fluffies.  This is every parent's nightmare, after all.  While Rochester and the Fox were lecturing Beppe, Quixley immediately hurried to the computer to email Alfredo that everything was all right.  Then we just had to hope that Alfredo got the email, as I had taken my laptop south and the new computer system won't materialise until we have a permanent NYC abode.  Alfredo has a BlackBerry, but he's not very good at using it yet.  We could only suppose that he'd have Magick and Murchison glued to their iPhones.

Here's a close up of the text of Quixley's email.  You should be able to read it if you zoom in.  Note that Quixley prefers Gmail's "Ninja" theme.

A Qmail

Barry seized advantage of the opportunity to grill Beppe about whether or not he's seen Duke Ellington.  This was a complete failure, as Beppe had no clue what he was talking about.

So this morning I left Philly on a much earlier bus than I'd intended to, in hopes of preventing Alfredo from having a heart attack.  I got to my 8.30 bus so early they put me on an 8.00 bus, and I was home a little before 11.  Quixley's email had been received, thanks to Murchison lending Alfredo his iPhone, but Alfredo was nonetheless visibly agitated until Beppe popped out of the bag.  Naturally Beppe got another series of major talking-tos, first from his father and then from Desmond, Jasper, and Lady Faraday.  Moreover, Alfredo has informed him that he's not to be allowed out of his father's sight until after we find a permanent Northern Domicile.  He seems to be finally understanding that stowing away was maybe not a brilliant idea... but he still enjoyed every minute of it.

The Southern Domicile Celebrates Flag Day

What, you say?  Flag Day was months ago?  Well, yes, Flag Day was indeed months ago.  But the Southern Domicile had been feeling a bit glum, with most of their friends off living it up in the Big Apple, and so Rochester decided that everyone's spirits would benefit from a good Flag Day celebration.

One of Leprosy's talents is a sense of ceremony.  Give him an occasion, and he can put together an incredibly elaborate ritual for it.  So Rochester gave Leprosy charge of the details of the ceremony.  After some grumbling about how there weren't nearly enough animals to do it proper justice, Leprosy came through.  So here they are: the Southern Domicile, beflagged.

Each of them tried to choose an appropriate flag.  Rochester has the state flag of New York, of course; the Fox has the state flag of Massachusetts, where he's from; Leprosy has a Yacht Commodore flag (AJD's not entirely sure why he chose that one, but apparently he was adamant and seemed pleased with it); Quixley naturally has a flag in his own colours; and Meph has the creepy pirate flag because it's all ironic and stuff.  Look how happy he is.

Barry somehow missed the memo that the ceremony was happening.  He's been mopey ever since he found out that the Northern Domicile is in Duke Ellington's old place, and so Leprosy wrote him out of the ceremony.  Naturally he responded to this by interrupting the whole thing and dashing out into the middle of it with the most attention-grabbing flag he could find.

It's not clear whether Barry's relationship with Leprosy can ever be repaired.  Rochester's rather miffed at him too, because he's concerned that Leprosy will refuse to share his ceremonial talents ever again.

Butterfinger and Alcindarias played the role of audience; here you can see them looking on, bemused.  Neither of them really got the point, although they were agreeable enough to pacify Leprosy's need for an audience.  Alcindarias didn't get the point because in the Wild Mythic Federation, no one bothers with rituals like this.  The WMF doesn't really have any concepts of nationhood or anything like that; they're a bunch of individuals who have a loose confederacy for purely practical reasons that do not include the emotional.  Butterfinger didn't get the point because there wasn't any hugging.

Despite the hiccough in the middle, Rochester pronounced the ceremony a success, as it served its desired purpose: now no one is thinking too much about missing the Northern Domicile because they're all too busy taking sides in the current kerfluffle.  Also, Rochester got to have a moment of patriotism, and that pleased him mightily.  He's very proud of being from New York.  AJD says he doesn't want to relinquish the flag now.

Everybody

I mentioned a few days ago that I'm moving.  AJD is not.  It's sad but true.  So we really wanted to get one big picture with the entire local chapter of the Wild Republic (both retired and active members), the Wild Parliamentary Monarchy, the Wild Mythic Federation, and us, before I leave.  Here we are, immortalised by our intrepid photographer friend ML.

After ML had taken this, we realised that somehow Seal was missing.  Obviously this would not do, so I got up and found him and talked him into being in the picture.  Seal's not camera-shy, but he's retired, and accordingly tries to avoid anything suspiciously big and official.  This position is understandable, as he's not just any retiree: Seal was president pro tem of the Wild Republic Senate for fifteen years until he decided to retire - not just any fifteen years, mind you, but the most prosperous and well-run fifteen years of its entire history.  He is legendary: one of their greatest political figures of all time.

But when he thought about it some more, he decided we were right: this occasion was worth making an exception for.  So here is another picture with everyone, Seal included.

Look how Barry is so eager for centre stage that he's blocking my face.  That's so very typical of Barry.

A Creative Project

The Mini Republic doesn't get much face time on this blog.  This is because they don't interact in the same way as the Wild Republic; they mostly stay remain in fixed positions on my various bookcases.  They get moved around from time to time, so they're not always in precisely the same place, but you don't find them in interesting configurations the way you do with their larger counterparts.

This doesn't mean that the Mini Republic is boring; they're just interesting in a different way, primarily by way of having amusing conversations.  

Not long ago, Henri and Winslow came up with what they are sure is a creative project that cannot fail.  They want to film a pilot for a television show featuring a pair of best friends who go around the world having wacky adventures and fighting crime.  The friends, naturally, will be played by Henri and Winslow themselves, and the gimmick is that they roam through the world with Henri riding on Winslow's back as Winslow swims through the ocean.

This is incredibly cute.

I'm not as certain as they are that this is a concept that Cannot Fail, but it's cute enough that I want to see them succeed.

Since Henri and Winslow announced their grand plan, various other animals have got interested in similar ideas.  Gilly isn't interested in fame, but thinks swimming through the ocean on the back of an aquatic mammal sounds like a capital plan; sometimes Humphrey indulges him a ride.

You cannot resist requests from someone with Gilly's little face.

Barry, being something of an attention slut, wants to steal the idea, and he keeps trying to talk Humphrey into getting in on this first.  Humphrey is not particularly good-natured about this, so sometimes Barry sort of leaps on his back and starts talking about how famous they'll become, to Humphrey's annoyance.  (It's hard to move when you have an elephant on your back.)  We've taken a few pictures of this, but they tend to look a bit obscene, so for Humphrey's sake I'll only show you the least offensive.

It's lacking a certain something, I don't know.  The formula is the same - large land mammal standing on sea mammal - and yet...

Aye, aye!

When Alfredo was sent here to head the local chapter, he knew it would be a challenge, but he hadn't realised that he would end up host to a sizable international delegation.  He likes challenges, but he doesn't like ulcers, and the combination of prestigious international delegation with a tribe of hyperactive kittens, a deranged moronic penguin, and his own puppy son keeps him up nights worrying.  He's absolutely terrified that somehow his constituency is going to start a war.  Conscientious to the point of neurosis: that's Alfredo.  But one has some sympathy for his position.

So, in addition to a disciplinarian for the kittens, Alfredo has been lobbying with his superiors for some sort of resident legal counsel, just in case.  He'd met with about as much success until the Bubble Gum Tail Incident, and then his superiors promised that they'd send him a good lawyer.

And they did send a good lawyer.  They sent one of the most promising young up-and-coming lawyers they could find, a fellow who breezed through law school, aced the bar exam, and has an excellent track record in court.  This is a lawyer who has won the respect of all his peers for the incisiveness of his mind and his uncanny ability to work the law to his advantage.  Despite his relative youth, several of his arguments have been collected as examples for law students to study, because of their unusual clarity and persuasiveness.

But the lawyer in question was... not quite what Alfredo was expecting.

Poor Alfredo.  He looks so dejected.  You can almost hear his inner monologue: 'Why me?'

Zebulon is an aye-aye, and aye-ayes are primarily famous for three things: they all have an inexplicable fondness for ships, despite lacking all aptitude for sailing them; they are all, without exception, incredibly brilliant; and they are all, without exception, absolutely bat-shit insane.  Zebulon is a very good example of his species.  He's the most promising lawyer of his generation, but he has a few screws loose, and you'd never know it from his behaviour out of court.  Out of court you're lucky if you can get him to say anything other than 'Aye.'

I think Alfredo can be forgiven for not quite trusting that Zebulon will live up to his hype.  We haven't seen him in action yet.

The denizens of the Wild Republic are of two minds about Zebulon.  Some of them try to steer clear of him, because they're not quite sure what to make of him and can't quite believe he's not another Plouie.  (I mean, Plouie gives the impression of having a larger vocabulary.)  The other group finds him kind of fascinating.  Barry, for instance, rather likes Zebulon.  One wonders how much of this is due to the fact that Zebulon's conversational peculiarities make it easier for Barry to talk about himself.

Humphrey is being far more patient with Zebulon than one might have expected, given that he's a retired commodore and aye-ayes are notorious amongst nautical men.  See, they really like climbing around in the rigging and untying knots, and when you are a sailor you have a vested interest in keeping knots tied, so having an aye-aye aboard is a massive inconvenience.  They're sort of like gremlins that way.  But Humphrey is doing a commendable job of keeping his anti-aye-aye biases under control.  He's had a number of conversations with Zebulon that consist of Humphrey talking about his nautical exploits, punctuated by lots of "aye aye" from Zebulon.

Actually, on second thought, Humphrey's tolerance for Zebulon is not really that unlike Barry's.

Hrithik is the only other local who has had previous experience with aye-ayes; this is because Zebulon, like Hrithik, is from Madagascar.  Hrithik is excited enough about having another member of Team Malagasy - and a fellow primate, to boot - to overlook some of Zebulon's peculiarities.  He's also our primary source about aye-ayes in general.  When we first asked him what he thought of Zebulon, he did that "draw a circle near your ear" gesture with his tail, but then he elaborated that they're all like that.

Here's Team Malagasy, perched in a very short tree.

Hrithik spends most of his time on top of one of my bookcases; that's his tree.  Zebulon is less picky about his habitat, but he has a habit of hanging on things, usually upside down.  Sometimes this takes his neighbours by surprise.

Gilly and Nicodemus hadn't even realised he was there until after we took the picture.  They were rather startled.

Zebulon is kind of okay to have around, all told.  He really likes being scratched, and makes the most adorable noises when you indulge him thus, and also the most reproachful noises when you stop.  He seems to like Jeopardy! so far; he started watching mostly out of curiosity, like Hrithik once upon a time, but the game appeals to him.  Also he appears to be something of a hypnotist, which makes me rather nervous.  AJD stopped him in the middle of hypnotising me and we're not really sure what would have transpired if he hadn't.

The "So I have an elephant named Barry" Post

As previously announced, we've recently acquired an elephant, and his name is Barry Gaylord.  Here he is again.

Barry is so called because he's a musician; baritone saxophone is of course his primary instrument, but he also plays bassoon and is learning tuba.  He's very adventurous and just a little full of himself - he spent the last two weeks going to parties, telling stories to crowds, being adorning with magnetic sphere jewellery, and being the subject of a puzzle in the Mystery Hunt, and it's gone to his head a little.  Mostly, though, he's great fun.

His introduction to the mix could prove interesting, because Mimsy has major prejudices against elephants; I think it's related to the fact that elephants, unlike mammoths, are not extinct.  He calls them "bald pachyderms" and stuff like that.  I don't think it's fair to blame extinct animals for having a complex about it, but I hope Mimsy is mature enough to deal with it without hurting Barry's feelings.

My Menagerie Gets Media (sort of)

AJD's team has just finished running the 2011 MIT Mystery Hunt (very successfully, from what I hear), which means that I can now reveal that several members of my menagerie were involved as well - in pictures, even.  The others who weren't included (particularly Rusty) are very jealous.

The puzzle featuring my darlings was called Soooo Cute!  If you go to the solution page (by clicking "Call in answer"), you'll see at the top that they're all credited:

featuring Parsley, Seleucus, Desmond, Barry, Vim, Winslow, Khamsin, Humphrey, Henri, and others

The others alluded to are not from my menagerie.  Barry was, initially, one of those others, but DS was looking for homes for them (because it would have been hard to transport them, I think?), so we adopted Barry.

Not only can I now reveal that this has happened, but I can also show their pictures, which I wasn't at liberty to do before.  So, here goes.

Barry:

You'll see that one again shortly, because I ought to do "so I have an elephant named Barry" post.

Humphrey:

Desmond:

We did two shots of each of them.  Desmond blinked the first time.

Henri:

Henri is very shy.  I'm not sure if you can tell.  It's something about being a mini-giraffe; it would probably make me shy too.

Winslow:

It's really hard to get a good picture of a beluga whale on a white background.  Try it yourself and you'll see.  The other one we took was sort of blindingly incandescent; it made Winslow look like a whale god, as far as you could make him out.

Seleucus:

Khamsin:

Parsley:

Vim.

You can't see his earring in this picture very well, but he has one.  If there are prizes for cuteness to be given amongst my animals, Vim is a really strong contender. 

Coming Soon!

I just got back from two awesome house parties.  (AJD is still at one of them.)  At the first house party, there were some stray animals in need of a home.  We adopted one of them, an elephant.  He's still at the party with AJD, where he's having a marvelous time and getting extremely spoiled: he was adorned with magnetic sphere jewellery and he got to tell a story and everyone thinks he's adorable (which is true).

It will be interesting to see what happens when he comes home, because Mimsy (the mammoth) has issues with elephants.  He calls them "bald pachyderms".  I suspect he's galled by the fact that they're not extinct.  Mimsy's an adult, if a slightly immature one, so he's probably going to be polite about his prejudices, but we're not sure what else will happen.

The elephant's name is Barry Gaylord.  He's a musician, you see: he's a baritone (maybe even a bass-baritone), and he plays the bari sax and bassoon and is thinking of taking up trombone. 

Pictures to follow, once he and AJD make it back.