Correct Representation
"The lynx is the type of
specialist carnivore that is
toughest to reintroduce,"
said Robert Ferris, director
of the species conservation
division for Defenders of
Wildlife, the
advocacy
group in a lawsuit that
forced the
the Federal
Government to consider pro-
tecting the cats
under
species preservation laws.
Weighing 20 to pounds,
with hind legs slightly
longer than its forelegs,
and with tufted ears, a
tawny coat and large feet
that keep it from sinking
into deep snow, the Canada
lynx mainly preys on snow-
shoe hares. -The New York
Times, April 27, 1999
y nature Nathaniel was a
hunter. What it was he
hunted was different
depending on which period of
his life was being discussed. If it
was any period at all and he
knew it was being talked about,
Nathaniel would change the
subject fast. He hated a conver-
sation to be about himself, espe-
cially if he was around. That's
just the way he was. So we
won't talk about Nathaniel the
hunter. We will talk about
Nathaniel the hunted. After fin-
ishing up all his work Nathaniel
wrote a short suicide note that
read, "I'm finished with my
work. Kodak." He signed the
note Kodak because he thought
it was odd that that was what
George Eastman had written.
Nathaniel examined his teeth
up close in the mirror, admiring
HISTORICAL FIGURE AND REPRESENATIVE
OF V.S COVERNMENT. JEDGEAR HOVER
their whiteness. Chomp
chomp chomp. His jaws
and teeth were in good
working order thanks to
the muscles and ten-
dons. Nathaniel chugged
a big mouthful of
ListerineⓇ and gargled it
around from side to side.
His eyes focused on
each cheek as it puffed
up and then squished
down and pushed the
liquid between his teeth
and over to the other
side of his mouth.
After Nathaniel spat out the
ListerineⓇ he squeezed gel into
his hands and ran through his
hair. He moved it around until
his hair looked great and his
hands felt fucked. Normally
these types of things didn't
bother Nathaniel but today they
did. He washed his hands with
ZestⓇ so they would no longer
be sticky. He dumped the suicide
note into the toilet, flushed it,
and then was halfway out the
front door before he realized he
forgot his protective vest. Why is
life so hard? That's what
Nathaniel was thinking as he
scampered through his things
trying patiently to remember not
to forget anything. Nathaniel
slipped his right arm through the
vest first and then his left cau-
tiously and cool. How can you
put on a bulletproof vest and not
seem cool? Off came his sneak-
ers. He pulled on his leggings
and made adjustments. Then he
put back on his sneakers and
trotted slowly through his house
and out his front door. The sun
was blinding and his face and
POETRY IS GREATE
ISOLATED
The crows caw
And are city-bound in whirring flight:
Soon it will snow-
Lucky
who now still has a home!
Here you stand petrified,
Gazing backward, alas! for oh, how long!
Why have you, fool,
At winter's gate fled forth into the world?
The world a gate
To a thousand wastelands, mute and cold!
Whoever lost
What you have lost, finds nowhere rest.
Now you stand pale,
Condemned to wintry wandering,
Like smoke,
Which always seeks the colder climes.
Fly, bird, burr
Your song in strains of wasteland-birds! -
Hide, you fool,
Your bleeding heart in ice and scorn!
The crows caw
And are city-bound in whirring flight:
Soon it will snow-
Woe to him who has no home!
by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
SOFT
SPOKEN
KiNG DKP
SOME OF
YOUR BLOOD
ON ME
OH MY LORD
YOUR BLEEDING
Chamfort, NICOLAS-SÉBASTIEN ROCH,
known as DE (1741-94), of illegitimate
birth, author of indifferent plays (e.g. La
Jeune Indienne, a sentimental comedy,
1764; Mustapha et Zéangir, a tragedy,
1776 both successful) and two good
critical works, Éloge de Molière (1766) and
Éloge de La Fontaine (1774). These-and
his wit-won him social success, a
pension, and election to the Académie.
His penetrating Maximes, caractères, et
anecdotes (publ. posth.) reveal his gift for
succinct irony and also his disillusionment
with the high society on which he felt
dependent. Though an ardent supporter
of the Revolution and a close friend and
inspirer of Mirabeau, he became suspect
during the Terror, attempted suicide,
and died soon afterwards. It was he who
coined the Revolutionary slogan, 'Guerre
aux châteaux, paix aux chaumières', and
interpreted 'Fraternité' as 'Sois mon frère,
ou je te tue'.
neck were open game. That's what
Nathaniel would have been think-
ing if he was paranoid, but he was-
n't. He turned his back to the bright
sunlight and closed the front door
to his house securely, making sure
it was locked. Once it was locked
he faced the bright sunlight and
stepped down the steps towards
his car. Beep burp buzz. The alarm
was now turned off. Nathaniel
climbed in. He put the key into
the ignition and started the car.
As his eyes raised from the dash-
board to the rearview mirror, he
heard and felt something cold on
the side of his neck.
"Surprise!" A gunman was in the
back seat, crouched low.
Nathaniel stayed calm and waited
STORY COLLAGE BOARD BY MARK GONZALES
hate being forced to do
things but in life that's what
it's all about, forcing some-
one to do something or being
forced t to do something. I read
somewhere "if you don't like
the way the people above you
are treating you, be
you, be kinder to
those below you, and if
If you
don't like the way the people
below you are treating you,
then treat those above you
kinder." It sounds like good
advice but people take advice in
advice
one ear and out the other and
then ask for more. I say treat
the people above you terrible
and treat the people below you
terrible. That way they're both
getting equal treatment.
treatment
I like sayings though, like
"curiosity killed the cat," "love
makes the world go round,"
"you're damned if you do,
damned if you don't
if you don't." I like
them
switching them around, like that
one "no matter how much you
know, there is always someone
who knows more." I switched it
to "no matter how little you
know, there's always someone
who knows less."
for instructions, but there were no
instructions. The gunman fired two
shots. Not a sound was heard. The
pistol had a silencer. If you had
sharp ears and were up close you
might have been able to hear the
blood ooze out of Nathaniel's neck
beneath the sound of the shock.
"Oh! Oh!"
The gunman in the back
slipped out of the passenger
side. The alarm went off. The
gunman, unalarmed, continued
exiting the car, only pausing
once slightly to look back and
then continuing to flee. The
gunman's pistol was black. The
long silencer was custom. The
color was bright gold and
shined from far away.
With a sharp sliver of bamboo
Singali proceeded to dig them
out, one by one. It was an
excruciating introduction to
one of the major health prob-
lems that accompanied the
Pygmies' newly sedentary
existence: chigoe fleas. The
impregnated female burrows
into the skin, then dies, but
her insidious legacy lives
on. The fertilized eggs in
her abdomen grow larger and
larger until they hatch as
larvae, feast their way out
of the flesh, drop into the
sand, and transform into the
next generation of fleas,
each waiting for a human
foot. Now I understood the
source of the many foot
deformities I saw, especially
among the children.
82 THRASHER
83