Thursday, November 29, 2007

Can you read me


Dear Giacometti

I wonder if you can read this mail. You were never big on reading mails, to be true. You were more of an acta materialia, treaties and testaments kind of cat. But I'm at my wits end here, don't know how else to get in touch with you. So if you or one of your compadres happens to see this message, please, let it be known. Waiting for you is tearing a man´s heart up.  


Yours

Joel


Discover the new Windows Vista Learn more!

Monday, November 19, 2007

Cat-Cam


Some weeks ago, Miri sent me a link to a cat-cam-site on the net. Some german dude attached a digital camera to his cat's neck, in order to see the world through the eyes of the cat so to speak. It involved building a special plastic holder to the camera and manipulating the electronic circuits of the camera to allow automatic shot release every so many seconds. The guy is a genius of sorts, make no mistake. It is quite touching to view the pics, it's the closest you get yet into the mind set of a cat. But then again, there are still many cat secrets to unlock, this is just a meagre beginning. It will take a while before scientists write a book aboot cat metaphysics like they did recently aboot the baboons. In the mean time we rejoice in scratching the mere surface of cathood, in all it's splendor.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Just catching up on The catcher in the rye

The other day I got this idea, what if The Catcher in the Rye was actually refering to a cat hidden in the fabric of the novel, like it's hidden in the title. Hidden so well in fact, that nobody had any incling about it until this very moment? Of course,we recall very little from the said novel, but we seem to remember there were some speculations going on about where the ducks go during the winter, when the lake in the park freezes to ice. Now, this info would be totally useless to a human but very valuable indeed to a cat. So maybe this is a marker suggesting to the alert reader an implied cat, an infered cat, a cat that refrains fro appearing in any other way than by escaping the plot, i. e., by not appearing at all. Now, why would Salinger bother to imply a cat in a story about a juvenile rambler in the streets of New York? The answer is given with the asking, it would seem: Holden Caulfild is our strayed cat who can't find his way home because that home of his is not genuinly supportive. That is why he's constantly on the lookout for an opening, giving his old girlfriends a buzz, visiting a grown-up friend of the family, sneaking unseen into his own hoose to chat with his little sis, and so on.