twitter limiting the amount of tweets you get to read per day is ridiculous but if tiktok limited the amount of videos people got to see per day it would be the biggest win for mental health since ssris
there aren’t enough posts going around about the swedish cryptid known as the skvader which is a rabbit with pheasant wings and also a very good boy.
like this one dude just made a fake taxidermy and spread it around as a hoax for a good ass while and it lead to this really cool fantasy creature and i am genuinely dissapointed that it never gets used in anything
THE BOY
Rabbirds, by the amazing @tkingfisher/Ursula Vernon (source).
The lack of skvaders is particularly frustrating when you realize it forms the third point of a wonderful cryptid trifecta.
You got the jackalopes, which are rabbits with antlers.
And you got the wolpertingers, which are rabbits with antlers and wings.
And then… what? Do you escalate? That’s unbalanced, those two rabbit cryptids don’t have the same number of extra things, the wolpertinger is clearly the jackalope But More.
BUT with the skvader on the other side, balance is restored. Antler rabbit, winged rabbit, winged antler rabbit. It’s a classic Venn diagram of imaginary lapine beasts, and it’s only complete if you acknowledge the fucking skvader.
Good thing Ursula’s got our back, at least.
This is a really excellent point and I applaud your advancements in Cryptid Theory.
ana mendieta “people looking at blood, moffit, iowa” 1973
“In this piece, Mendieta spilled a large amount of what appeared to be chunky blood over a doorway and sidewalk on an Iowa City street. Then she removed herself from the scene and, from a distance, photographed the reactions of various passersby. […] It intimates to passersby that a grievous and dramatic injury has taken place, but it gives no explanation and, more important, no recourse to action. It may incite horror, concern, compassion, and revulsion—in short, pity and fear—but it doesn’t offer anywhere for these feelings to go. […] Each pedestrian’s only real choice is to walk on by, which looks from the outside—and likely felt, on the inside—like an uncaring abandonment, even if of an indeterminate or imaginary entity. […] And somewhere out of sight lurks Mendieta, a voyeur of each passerby’s involuntary voyeurism. […] People Looking at Blood says, Look at this pile of carnage, with no clear story, source, assailant, or victim. Just look at it. Now look at others looking at it. (And I will be looking at you looking.)”
— The Art of Cruelty, Maggie Nelson
Ana Mendieta was murdered by her husband and fellow artist Carl Andre. This work became a self fulfilling prophecy and meditation on tragedy, the nature of violence, and peoples unwillingness to help.
But it’s NOT about unwillingness to help! It’s NOT about people not caring!! It’s so very explicitly the opposite!!!
I’ve BEEN in this situation. You walk past an old crime scene, or the place where an accident happened, and you see evidence of something terrible. If it’s old, maybe broken glass, or scuff marks.
But sometimes, you’re too late. Sometimes someone is on the ground, and EMTs are already helping, and the only helpful thing you can do you is move on, refuse to linger, refuse to form a crowd.
Sometimes there’s dried blood, or fresh blood, but when you look around you can’t find anyone hurt or needing help. Whatever happened, it has happened without you, and you can’t undo it or make it better. You could contact an authority, report what you’ve seen, but that’s just sharing information. It doesn’t FEEL like helping.
Humans are by nature incredibly compassionate creatures. What is more heartbreaking to an animal designed to bring comfort than a pain that cannot be comforted? A hurt that cannot be soothed?
You are confronted by this helplessness, and it looks you in the face and says, “It’s too late for you to fix this. You must move on, and hope that next time, you aren’t.” And then you do. You have to. There is no other choice.
Ana Mendieta’s piece is not condemning the observed- it’s mourning their directionless compassion, their grief, their uncertainty- their concern and hope offered to someone or something they will never know, never speak to, never be able to help.
It says that we love each other, that we care for one another, and that even if we are lost and no one ever finds us, we are cared for long after we are gone, and by people who never knew our names.
Our outrage at her death only proves this. Now that we know her life ended tragically, what will you do? What CAN you do? Nothing. You will observe the blood, experience something that cannot be captured on film, and move on.
“What CAN you do? Nothing. You will observe the blood, experience something that cannot be captured on film, and move on.
“
This will be my June print for my postcard club on patreon! Be sure to check the link to my patreon in my pinned post if you’d like an a6 print of this painting :D
Image description: a gouache painting of a gnarled dead tree in the middle of a dark forest. Moss grows on and underneath the tree. The background is turquoise. End ID
Remember to sign up for my postcard club on Patreon before the end of the month to get this mini print!! Postcard club (and the lower tier) also gives you daily updates of @externalmemorycomic .
