I can’t believe that Link has a fucking front page article about Furries. I can’t believe that Furries are becoming respected as a semi legitimate subculture. In the future, Link, when you’re at a loss for a cover story and you’re about to pick the dumbest fucking shit ever, just do the story about me. We’ll go get some pancakes at the House of Eggs at 2AM. I promise I will make it as interesting as possible.
Furries are proof that America might very well be too retarded to maintain it’s role as the cultural leader of the world. Furries are proof that, after WWII, Japan would take passive-aggressive avenues to get even with us (as we’ve already established, Kim blames the Manga). When confronted with Furries, even the most liberal thinkers sense that the noblest avenue to take in dealing with them is to just kick their asses, but I guess we’re worried that maybe giving them the much-needed wedgie they’re so obviously asking for would be in violation of the same kind hate crime discrimination laws that protect other minorities.
I’m pretty sure the only reason Furries have achieved half of the mainstream acceptance they have is because ten years ago we were on sites like portalofevil.com posting links of these lunatic geocities sites and saying “I can’t believe these people are real!” This was the nineties when the internet was this awesome place where alienated fuck-ups could get on AOL and find validation for things, like sticking bicycle pumps in their asses, by meeting like-minded individuals. It didn’t take long before we went from shocked to desensitized. Now it’s on the cover of the free newspaper in a military town in a red state. Craziness.
Don’t even try to say that Furries deserve to be free from the persecutions that homosexuals and ethnic minorities feel. It’s scientifically proven that you cannot beat the gay out of someone, you can’t beat the pigment off of someone’s skin, and you can’t beat someone into renouncing their faith (no matter what they say to get you to stop, if anything). However, somewhere in the world, there is a parent that failed to beat the notion out of some confused kid’s head that he was an anthropomorphized cartoon rabbit with purple tiger stripes and that his name is Talisman.
In other cultures they call this a psychosis. Do you think they have Furries in Iraq or Sudan or Georgia? (OK I secretly hope they do). People dressing up like goofy animals and claiming it’s “part of who they are” is the most spoiled-brat American crybaby thing I have ever heard. Waah, the world is so hard, now put on a big sports mascot costume so no one can see you and you can pretend you’re someone else.
For Lyons, it was an escape from painful memories: not knowing his father as a child and being held at gunpoint when he was 29. “Lions were always strong and dominant. They helped me get through a lot of troubles.”
You are not a fucking lion. You simply aren’t. There isn’t much more that I can say about it. Lions are not part of who you are, because you are not one. End of discussion. I didn’t know my father very well growing up, and I was 23 when I was held at gunpoint. I didn’t need to devise some kind of pointless persona to combat these “troubles.” I got into music. I got into writing. I simply got the fuck over it.
Remember when sallow-skinned, patchouli oil drenched, overweight losers in bondage pants and pleather corsets smoking clove cigarettes and hissing as they bared their fake fangs at you in the Taco Bell parking lot was the lamest thing you’d ever seen in your life?
I miss those days.
I’d never heard about it. “The stuffed animals behind him represent his two sides.“
Hmmm.
Shamans in indigenous cultures around the world used to (and still do) go into altered states of consciousness through the use of plant-based hallucinigens, drumming, exhaustive forms of dance, and physical stress such as mutilations, etc. They do this to travel other-dimensionally (wherever that may be) and make contact with the “spirits” of the animal and plant kingdom to bring back useful information and healing powers to help the rest of the tribe. This has been going on for thousands of years and, whether scientists like it or not, it works. To do this takes years of arduous training and isolation, and the journeys often are terrifying.
So it’s good to know that now we can skip all the hard stuff and just get some stuffed animals. If I put a Care Bear on my head, I’ll merge with the Great Bear Spirit. Roar.
Wonder when the whole “Furrie” subculture is gonna rise up and demand their own sets of social “rights” in the form of protests, rallying & marches.
@Brett: http://lowquality.net/images/howaboutno.jpg
@Luke: The thought crosses my mind often. As tedious as politically correctness is today it still seems fairly reasonable compared to the hyper-sensitivity we might encounter when internet people get involved in politics. Imagine the million man march on Washington to fight for the rights of those who fuck toasters and masturbate to animated gifs of Pokemon.
Seriously, most of the time I find you to be a pompous prick, of sorts. I also find you to be endearing at times and somewhat friendly and warm. But then there are times like this…when I actually read your whole blog post that I remember you are one of the most astute, self-aware, comical and funny people I have ever met. Thank you for giving me something worth smiling about.…sometimes. Now, if you will excuse me I need to relube my tire pump.
Drew, I feel the same way about you.
The tire pump thing was real. I remember finding this site concerning people who were sexually aroused by the episodes of cartoons where, say, Jerry pumps Tom with air and Tom hovers around the room a little. Thankfully I can’t find anything relating to the phenomenon now. I recall there being some fatalities involved where people ruptured their lower intestine / colon area. Maybe Darwin handled that particular situation for us.
Perhaps you should have googled “pneumatic air hose sexuality”. WOW. Simply freaking wow.
You’re putting me on. I googled and found nothing of interest (not that I would be..uh… interested).
…ok. the fetish is apparently called “belly inflation”
The bots are gonna have a field day with this thread, I look forward to the exciting spam I am about to receive.
Justin, your post was hilarious, especially because it’s all to true. These furries are frigging weirdos with some sort of deep-seated neuroses that is being “diagnosed” as a condition. These people need a severe ass-stomping and some electroshock therapy to get the sense back into their heads, not prancing around like the Philly Phanatic or the San Diego Chicken. Morons!!
@Other Drew — +3 points for the obscure sports mascot references.