I saw this little guy at my friend’s apartment on north 4th over the weekend, and wondered to myself, “What does he mean?” His expression is just so wonderful! That kind of excitement can’t be bought with a ticket to Six Flags and a pat on the back oh-no-sir. And it isn’t necessarily a result of the taxidermy process, set by a man with grizzled knuckles and animal crumbs at his feet. Far from it.
He’s really just freaked the f’k out at his significance in the world around him. It’s so big, and he’s so darn meaningful.
The little blowfish, who we’ll call Whoafish, is staring out at a world in the 3rd dimension; a world that glares back in a shattered red and blue hue. His empty, prickly-puffed body is the very epicenter of old world taxidermy and new world visual technology, where one’s sense of forever is defined by how long the tannins last and how close you can get to The Commercials. What does he mean to you? Will we stuff our computers one day?
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