sweet justice

sea world: 2. humans: 0. this has not been a good week in the battle between man vs. nature.
an aquarium in the Dubai mall containing 2 million gallons of water and some 33,000 marine animals is beginning to crack. shark attack!

also, last week a 12,000 pound orca whale named Telly "dragged a trainer into the pool by her ponytail" and effectively killed her. in 1999, a man, who snuck past Seaworld security, and "either jumped, fell, or was pulled into the water" also died, possibly from hypothermia, though his body was found "draped" over Telly's head. the Seaworld PR people are now trying to keep blame away from Telly:

In an interview with CNN on Thursday, Chuck Tompkins, Sea World’s head of animal training, insisted that the orca was getting a bad rap, saying, “those two incidents really don’t have anything to do with this and to mark him as a killer is very unfair.” [via]

damn right it's unfair! look, we're talking about a giant swimming KILLING MACHINE. have we forgotten that orca whales, in nature (where they NATURALLY BELONG) are huge, swift, powerful, blood-thirsty BEASTS who hunt BABY SEALS and EAT them? i'm guessing these deaths are due to a number of things (like, THEIR MOTHER FUCKING NATURE TO LEAP OUT OF WATER, SOMETIMES THROUGH ICE, TO BITE AND KILL AND EAT THINGS), none of which amount to "revenge," which is what the media is (ridiculously) trying to call it ("there was no reason to believe that the orca had turned on its trainer out of anger").
i'm sorry, but when it comes to animals and humans, i'm almost uncompromisingly pro-fauna. if you put a bunch of fucking SHARKS in a tank with a tunnel thru it in the mother-fucking MALL for the sake of spectacle/thrill/etc. you deserve to lose your shit once that tank starts cracking and leaking water. and if you put an orca whale in a pool, feed it nothing but little fish and expect it to learn tricks for your amusement, you're damned right it's gonna leap out and eat you if you're not looking. it's not revenge, it's poetic justice.
it infuriates me how often the media covers these animal encounter stories and side unequivocally with the humans. i mean, i know it's common practice to be anthropomorphic, but dang, can't we just get over ourselves from time to time and see from another perspective? it seems that for the supposedly "most intelligent" animal, and the only one granted with reason, that we can be extremely unreasonable and myopic.
sheeyit.

summer breeze

sitting on my bluff today, watching the sun set into a line of fluorescent smog (or whipped mountain top), my toes digging into powdered dirt and sand while my hands feel the bulge of dinner and overindulgence in too many cups of milk and hibiscus tea settling in my tummy

the air is perfect, the breeze on the edge of this cliff smells and tastes like salty sea air, if i close my eyes or unfocus them on a distant point in the mountains beyond the city, i forget that i am not on the keel of some tall ship, the gentle rocking of the earth below me like the pulse of soft sea waves at night

it's a feeling i wish i could knit into a summer sweater. i don't have much use for sweaters in the heat of summer, but sometimes a sweater is just what you need, you know? the interwoven tangled wooliness reminds me of hands, delicate fragile veiny old woman hands, remind me of my grandmother and toggle buttons and pastel pink rabbit hair yarn, and remind me of the sea, somehow. i think it goes like this: when i was little, i was fascinated and horrified by the story of the Titanic. i was terrified of the sea and of boats and of drowning, i imagined sinking - my lungs filling with water - was the worst way to die. but then i insert a small pink sweater into the scenario, and there's warmth, there's temperature control. the sweater has pockets for little hands (somewhere there are mittens waiting to be matched) and a hood with ears, and the smell of home and dry coziness. i imagine floating on icy water all night waiting to be rescued while my grandmother wraps me in layers and layers of hand-knit sweaters, and it's like she's building me an island beneath my feet to stand on.

i don't need a life preserver; i just need something soft and warm.