| Taxonomy Works: A Brief But Fascinating Essay On The Classification of Lemurs |
| It shall come as no surprise to those who know me well that I have long been amazed by the lemur. Few creatures are so intriguing as a lemur when it is properly understood. It is one of the great disappointments of my life that I have not to date set down my thoughts on this fascinating creature. For it is indeed a fascinating creature and therefore it tends to fascinate. Therefore, at the insistence of my long-time friend and housemate, William O'Dwyer (no relation to former New York City Mayor O'Dwyer) I have set out to chronicle my adventures in the capture, taxonomication (for I can think of no better term than taxonomication for my exploits), training, and eventually education of that fascinating beast known as the lemur. Which is, indeed, a fascinating beast. A word on the genus lemur. Of course, it is not a genus, but rather a phylum that concerns us today, but if a phylum concerns us, then a genus compels us, and frankly since we're not altogether clear on the difference, I'm forced to acknowledge that King Philip's Class's Gentle Spaniels undoubtedly went to the wrong address, probably due to an overworked telemarketer. While we are on this subject, I should mention that the use of lemurs for telemarketing purposes is not a direct outgrowth of my own research on lemurs, but rather an unusually inventive application of what I should like to think is work that sprung nearly full-grown from my own head. A rather strarnge image to all those who are not already tremendous admirers of the fascinating creatures known as lemurs. That reference to King Philip's is of course a mnemonic device. As you are no doubt already aware, the order of taxonomy is Kingdom, Phylum Class, Order, Genus, Species. While King Philip himself is not known to have been a tremendous admirer of the spaniel, King Edward rather resented the implication that his name was actually King Pedward, although the "P" was silent. As a result, he asked that we please find a king's name that did not require the addition of a "P" in order to make the mnemonic work. It was a strange request considering that no one had consulted him, but kings do occasionally make strange requests without being consulted. In this way they are rather like lemurs, which tend to take initiative naturally rather than preternaturally. In any case, King Philip did not seem to be using his name at the moment, so the Taxonomnemonic Association of British Upper-class Scientists (TABUS) decided that it would be acceptable to borrow King Philip's name and give it back to him in case any more American historians wished to write another book on the subject of what King Philip's name actually was, a subject that, I must say, could only be fascinating to an American. But enough on those lemuric issues, and on to the meat of the juice of the lemuric issue: the fascinating subject of the classification of lemurs. Here, then, is that fascinating creature known as the lemur: |
| This work, considered the finest scientific authority on lemurs and their classification, was set down by Montgomery J. Tugwell, Sr., gentleman at large and gentleman about town, one of the most noted gentlemen scientists of gentlemanly Edwardian England. It is an important historical document largely because of the insight it allows into early 20th century British scientists, a subject which I'm sure you've all been waiting to hear about for ages. |
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| Fascinating, is it not? You'll notice that the lemur's eyes tend to be very bright. There are numerous, and fascinating, reasons for the shininess of the lemur's eyes, a subject on which historians, geologicals, geographers, musicians, and the occasional religious prophet have all speculated on. Most of these authorities have now come to the conclusion that it is largely a result of what photographers call "red eye." There is some vague hope that someday photographers will either figure out a way to fix this anomaly or else stop taking photographs of lemurs and go back to drawing them, which would allow scientists to determine for sure the color of the lemurs' eyes. A fascinating question, but not one I intend to address at this point. You will notice also, unless you are something of a dunce, that this particular lemur does not appear to be smiling at the camera. This is actually unusual. Lemurs tend to be extremely photogenic creatures, and are always pleased to have their pictures taken. If you are ever in Madagascar, please feel free to take many photographs of the lemurs, and ignore the savages saying things like "Please don't photograph the lemurs" and "Lemurs bite silly tourists who use too much flash powder." I am pleased to report that in my numerous encounters with the lemur, only once did I fail to shoot one before it bit me, and on that occasion my trusty houseboy Kao was able to shoot it. Kao was very upset and insisted that if he did not get a raise, Demons would attack him. I gave him an extra five pounds--the poor foolish creature. But we are of course concerned with poor foolish creatures of another sort than houseboys. Lemurs, in particular, are not noted for their intelligence, though I have always found them utterly fascinating creatures. They tend to have flabby layers of what is sometimes called "avordopois," or fat for the uneducated among us, around their hindquarters, rather like Americans, who are not quite as fascinating as most lemurs. In the lemur, some have suggested that these layers of fat around their "lardies" (the phrase is my own) is for the purpose of cushioning the lemur as it rests on the rather hard and uncomfortable branches of trees. By the same logic, however, all Members of Parliament would have rather fat posteriors, since the benches of Parliament, I have it on good authority, are uncomfortable. Since most but not all Members of Parliament have extensive posteriors, it seems unlikely that this explanation for lemurs' hindquarters is accurate. In my opinion, the role of the lard around the lardies--my apologies; puns are one of my weaknesses--is to ensure against flea bites. I have certainly noticed that when I get fleas, it is extremely uncomfortable, and having an additional layer of fat to protect me from them wo uld be most welcome, if unsightly. A fascinating bit of evidence, indeed, for the coexistence of Mendelian genetics with Lamarckian theories of inheritance. Yes, indeed, the lemur is a fascinating creature, with numerous fascinating characteristics. As my houseboy Kao once put it, "Sir, you are a smelly lemur." Kao went on to explain that in his country "smelly lemur" is a high compliment. It was a tremendously flattering statement. Therefore, readers, all I can say is that, like myself, you are all smelly lemurs. Oh, you're welcome. |