Spring - Rapacious Devourer of Men

By Helen E. H. Madden

Let me tell you something about Spring.

It's not about renewal or hope. It's not about flowers or fluffy bunnies or baby birds. It's not about allergies and pollen. It's not about the crazed and dazed state of fever people slip into as they slip off layers of clothing and run amok in fields of daisies and such crap.

It's about little monsters that wake up hungry and ready to feed.

You see, every year around the end of summer, beginning of fall, we get one of these in our backyard...

Pretty, isn't it? A delightful little sack of horrors waiting to hatch. This little beauty will spend all of Autumn and Winter tucked away in some tiny corner of of the house, brooding and sheltering the creepy crawly delights inside. Sometime in the Spring, that mummified papery sac will burst open and out will stream a thousand or so baby monsters, each with eight legs a piece. They grow up to look something like this...

Our yard becomes the domain of at least one of these beauties every year, sometimes two. We call them Shelobs, they're so damned huge. After sleeping so long in that egg sac, they wake up so hungry, so the first thing they do is string their webs this way and that across our back deck. I can't tell you how many times I've walked out my back door and right into their traps, nearly strangled by those thick, heavy strands of sticky silk. I've been the big dinner that got away more times than I can count.

But I love these little darlings, these eight-legged freaks. They're such artists. Each web is a wonder to behold, and the way the Shelobs wait in the center, oh so patiently, for their prey to come to them is truly chilling to behold.

It's a feeling I understand all too well, for you see, spiders aren't the only things that wake up hungry in the Spring. After months of hiding inside the house, burrowing beneath blankets, shrouding myself in heavy sweaters and woolly socks, something hatches inside of me. It's a feeling that crawls through my belly and along my limbs, an uncontrollable need to feed my inner predator. One warm afternoon, I'll pull out my silken traps - a chemise, stockings, garter belts - and patiently lie in wait for my prey to appear. When he shows, I'm quick to pounce, tie him up and suck the life out of him until he's nothing but a shrivelled husk and I'm too satiated and drowsy to move. On that day, I can't say whether I have two legs or eight, but the effect is still the same.

Come Summer, the heat and humidity will whither my desire, and the predator inside me won't wake again until Autumn. Then I'll spin my webs again one last time before Winter forces me back into hibernation, chilled body buried beneath layers of clothing, heavy sweaters, woolly socks. I'll waste away until Spring.

And then I'll wake up hungry again.

Ensnared, Work In Progress by Helen E. H. Madden

Furry Preditors

Okay, I saw a television show about people with Furry Fetishes. It was a crime show and I was instantly fascinated. I mean why would grown men and women dress as animals to get their groove on? They hold conventions etc. I don't think I've ever heard of a shoe fetish convention or panty fetish convention, have you?

As the above mentioned show progressed, there was some talk about Furries using their outfits to hug children. That it could be a way for a pedophile to get a welcome hug from a child. Think Mickey Mouse at Disney World, or a mascot at your favorite game. No one suspects they are out to get their rocks off. So I nabbed this topic with gusto thinking, "Surely the web has some info on this type of predatory crime." Sadly (in the case of my blog) there isn't one. Not a single solitary one.

Now I refuse to believe that any grouping of people, including religious nuts (waving hand high), won't have a least one deviant in there to mess things up. Maybe the Furry crime I'm looking for just hasn't been uncovered. So I am taking a spin on the predator blog. Hang on.

First off, what is a Furry? Wikipedia gave me this definition: a context of sexual fetishism in which a person becomes sexually aroused by descriptions or depictions of transformations, usually the transformations of people into other beings or objects. This definition is a bit off the beaten path but refers to those who enjoy a little anthropomorphistic sexual play. In particular Furries find that being an animal is cuddly, soothing, and sexual.

Of course I delved further. Apparently there have been a few articles on the subject. I found this one too, at The Register: Furry is a word which has probably been asked to do a little too much work. It has numerous meanings, and it's not particularly easy to find two people who agree on the precise definition for any of them. The original two definitions we supplied in the first version of the FAQ are: 1. an anthropomorphic animal character. i.e. an animal with human characteristics. 2. a human who relates strongly, in whatever way, to the idea of the characters outlined in the previous definition. This may involve anything from a person who simply enjoys viewing furry fanzines or films, to someone who actually desires to be a 'real' furry, or believe that they are literally a non-human trapped within a human form. But not all ALF regulars are interested in anthropomorphics. Some are largely unaware of the 'furry fandom,' or are simply uninterested in it for a variety of reasons. Most of us who created ALF were 'fans' of one kind or another, and this coloured our view- point perhaps more than we realised. So, after much discussion, we'd like to add a third definition, one that tries to include everyone who has made ALF a home. 3. a person with an important emotional/spiritual connection with an animal or animals, real, fictional or symbolic.

Note that the latter definition does not center on sex. This was a problem for the purposes of my blog. How dare they (please note the sarcasm)! My spin is this, animal predators. TADAAAA!

We see them everywhere right now. There are people like those mentioned above you really enjoy dressing or fantasizing about furry creatures. They practice life this way, the associate with the animals, they spiritually connect. And guess what? Many of our readers do too. I don't mean that they dress up. I mean that they crave the primitive link with something mystical that is a-human to their experience.

Exhibit A: The Vampire. This is anthropomorphic. There is shifting involved between the human and the "other" paranormal embodiment of something basic and primitive to our fears. And the Vampire book is everywhere.

Exhibit B: The Werewolf. Even more obvious than above because we are actually talking about a shift between human form and full-on animal form, right? RIGHT. There are other types too involving the panther craze, the hawk, the bear.

And what do these things have in common but the predator. We humans are fascinated by the predator. It speaks to the core urge of self-preservation. It takes us back to early humans grunting to create fire and save ourselves in a night where predators lurk. It produces adrenaline and in a romance can hint at desires too instinctual to put a name to. It offers an excuse for accepting those urges because we claim them to be a part of the "animal" within.

Where am I going with this, you might ask? Well, humans are drawn to the things which logically defy us. We, or at least I, don't understand the desire to dress like an overgrown stuffed animal (by the way, Furry Community, that doesn't mean I don't want to understand. In fact, contact me if you are one, I'd love to interview you on my own blog.). And I'm not claiming that doing so is the overriding instinct of humans as a whole.

However, think of the predator. The predator is what we have feared from the beginning of time. Some Furries act this out... being taken by a predator... because it is stimulating to them whether spiritually or sexually. But in our common experience you are more apt to find society fearful of the predator. And yet, we gawk, we explore their psyche through books or prison interviews. We want to know why, don't we? We want to understand how someone becomes a predator when humans are supposed to have evolved above that primitive, instinctual crime into a cohesive, communicative environment.

Perhaps it's why this blog topic appealed to the six of us. We want to understand. Our morbid curiosity demands it.

I don't know. Maybe the Furries have it right. Maybe if we allow people to safely act out their aggression, we will find fewer deviants in normal social intercourse. If it means one less child is harmed, I say dress up the Mansons and Dahmers of the world. Go Furry.

~Kelly~