[As August 2010 marks the close of our tenth year of weekly publication, we shall spend this month enjoying "the blast from the past" with selections from Poor Mojo's Almanac(k): Year Three (issues 101-150). Please, enjoy!—Your Giant Squid, Editor-in-Chief, PMjA]
[originally published in issue #133]
How big can they get
Why are you so big?
How big can you get?
How big was the biggest giant squid?
How big can a squid get
How big can you get
How big can a squid get
First, let it be known that the tales of my several-week's pouting have been greatly exaggerated. In the first part, I was not pouting, but merely feeling somewhat "beneath the weather," as is the expression common, (perhaps it was something I ate, or failed to eat?) and drew little pleasure from socializing. In the second part, I feel great affection towards the work of Morrissey and his Smiths, generally, and my choosing to listen to their recordings at any time is naught for indicating my moods mighty and true. The Smiths do mighty work with their puny, doughy arms; wroughting the metal like they do. Any man who has an army of smiths and smitheries at his disposal is a man to observe and flee from. That is, if I were to ever flee from a man. (And such sad music these Smiths make, their Morrissey-master must work them hard and long to bring such soul-stabbing misery forth in their harmonies and music.) So, then, let us put the mopery and poutastics aside from our minds, as they count for little, toward little, and are of little merit.
It is fine for things to be little, diminutive and miniscule in size, for this does not of necessity demonstrate a diminutive value or functionality, nor a lack or lacking in worth. Of this I have been much reassured by our most recent hireling, Molly the Intern. She is a kindly thing with many a worthy and useful opinion on the human condition and its behaviors, as well as the general state of this world and the certain lack of value (both general and specific) of certain sub-editors who shall remain nameless (Sub-Editor Dave) but nonetheless valueless, small minded and of gangly useless-ness of form and person.
Molly went on to explain that many things, when abnormally large of size, are quite disgusting and veiny and bring much of the gagging and discomfort, and less fit for their tasks-of-design, due in large part to their being overbig for the roles they are meant to fill. There is a joy and pleasure, she said, in the just-right-sized, and by definition, the large can never be just-right, as larger is larger than just-right and just-right is the goal of being. I have been much assured that I am a good size, and although this is a matter worried about by all gentlemanly squid, it is not a matter of concern in my case.
Yes, gentlemen, a good size. She said it herself. I can provide digital audio recordings of such, should there be any of the doubting.
For the answer long, I demand the continued and evermore recognition of the in-consequence of size, both in general and specific. Is the female greater than the male owing solely to her greater girth? Of course it is not so. Is the ant lesser than the simple hop-toad for being smaller? It could not be. These considerations and obsessions with colossialty and the just-barely-the-tiniest-subfraction-less-than-colossal are truly obstructions in the seeing clear of the world— and would it not be shameful for us to see less than clearly with our optically perfect eyes (for those who have such) or to further muddle our already cloudy-by-poor-implementation reception of the reflected light of this world with misunderstanding and misinterpretation based upon bigoted, biased and antiquated notions granting superiority based upon size and girth of circumference rather than looking through to qualities of greater consequence, such as suppleness, fluidity of movement, rigid or ribbed surface and generally frilly french-tikklerish visage and structure?
As a further enhancement along these lines rhetorical, I am well told and have it upon word reliable that it is not what you perform, but the way in which you perform, and it is that which gets results (as to the saying of Devo when he is to the work attending: "Work smarter, not harder")— but this is unconfirmed information and therefore still suspect. But, that is best left a matter along the side. None-the-reduced, think on this.
You also routinely inquire as to the maximum size us Architeuthians have reached, or as your mumbling gurgling mealy-monkey-mouths would have it: "How big was the biggest giant squid?" I will endeavor to answer thusly: In my youth I had several indiscretions. I was, at times, a delinquent. A vast and terrible and en-geniused delinquent, but a delinquent nonetheless. During my deliquescence, I observed a particular entertainment broadcast in a speakeasy in the twisted nauseating halls of R'yleh. The entertainment featured a Nurse shark being savaged by a series of larger and larger tentacled brethren. The final architeuthis to have his turn had an appendage so terrible and large that it is still whispered of to this day in the crab-hollows and shark-dens of the undersea. His engorged and flailing member was of such great size that the Nurse Shark died upon gazing upon it, and passed into legend. He was "the biggest giant squid.":
For the answer short about mine own person (for the short is just so good as the long, yes), I am roughly more-or-less just about a tiny smidgileto less-than three of the meters in length, from pointed-and-befinned mantle-tip to terrible crushing and rending beak.
Also, my penis is very, very large. Is your penis very large?
Indeed, I thought not.
Love the Giant Squid? Buy his first book.
Share on Facebook
Tweet about this Piece