Catymology

Animal World Newswire

By Angelique

International playcat Darcy Xenophon, last seen partying at a Poptrash event at Amsterdam's premiere club, Melkweg, has entered a secluded retreat near The Hague, Netherlands. The retreat, known as the Factual Recovery Analysis Center (FRAC), specializes in re-orienting individuals who suffer from a little-known disorder, apophenia.

According to Dr. Melanie Fox of The Institute for Apopheniac Research (IAR) at the University of California in San Diego, apophenia is "the experience of seeing patterns or connections in random or meaningless data. The term was coined in 1958 by Klaus Conrad, who defined it as the 'unmotivated seeing of connections' accompanied by a 'specific experience of an abnormal meaningfulness.'"

Darcy's bizarre behavior was reported by a Swedish student, Bruno Andersen, who was also at the Melkweg bash:

Around three in the morning, this cat, Darcy, begins bobbing his head up and down excessively, yowling about the number ninety nine. Maybe it was the music that was playing that set him off: "99 Luftballoons" by the German band, Nena. You know: [sings]

99 Duesenjaeger
Jeder war ein grosser Krieger
Hielten sich fuer Captain Kirk
Das gab ein grosses Feuerwerk
Die Nachbarn haben nichts gerafft
Und fuehlten sich gleich angemacht
Dabei schoss man am Horizont
Auf 99 Luftballons

Oof, man, it was getting to all of us, what with the substances we were exposed to, but this cat, he was just unable to stop. After about forty minutes, the bouncer came and ejected him.

For those who need an English translation:

99 Decision Street.
99 ministers meet.
To worry, worry, super-scurry.
Call the troops out in a hurry.
This is what we've waited for.
This is it boys, this is war.
The president is on the line
As 99 red balloons go by.

Another witness, Wanda Kurtz, had been dancing near Darcy when his outburst began:

Actually, with all the noise in the room, Darcy was just doing what we all were there for--letting off some steam. There he was, bouncing and chanting "99,99,99,99" and I'm going, "Yo, cat, you'll never get to 100." And he goes, "99,99,99,99 . . . ." I thought it was pretty appropriate, given that he's from the US, and what with his government rattling sabers about going into Iran.

I was sorry to see Darcy ejected. He's a great hero, in my mind.

Outside Melkweg, Darcy wandered up and down, continuing his disphoric rants. Bystanders reported the following utterances:

If I had a Star Wars figure, I'd thump it in the marrow, I'd do a bit of work on it in the frock...

I'm a lump! I'm a duvet cover! I'm giant! Get a bad feeling about the dove, get a bad feeling about the dove!

I can't request ghosts without my koi carp.

Thou shalt not act as backing vocals to important triffids.

According to Dr. Fox of the IAR,

the number most commonly associated with apophenia is 23. But a fixation on other numbers is not unknown. The phenomenon also has a lot in common with some common pitfalls of logic and with narrative fallacies such as hindsight bias, the tendency to look back and see a prophecy predicting events that have occurred more recently. For example, becoming convinced that a pop song from the 1980s predicted the US intention to invade another country in 2007 would be an example of hindsight bias.

Researchers from diverse fields--including statistics, linguistics, literary criticism, and psychology--have noted the pervasiveness of apophenia in contemporary thought. Wikipedia says,

In statistics, apophenia would be classed as a Type I error (false positive, false alarm, caused by an excess in sensitivity). Apophenia is often used as an explanation of some paranormal and religious claims. It has been suggested that apophenia is a link between psychosis and creativity.

Although FRAC shuns publicity, this reporter was able to determine that it has hosted many prominent world leaders, rock stars, and Hollywood personalities. According to a former employee of FARC who spoke on condition of anonymity, George W. Bush himself may have been a guest. "I'm not saying he was, but it was definitely a possibility. Obviously, I would not say that, in the case of Bush, that our treatment was entirely successful." Calls to FRAC headquarters went unanswered.

Labels: apophenia, darcy, poptrash

Two new sites have recently appeared, and we at Catymology are proud to be part of both of them:

Planet Cat

Planet Cat is an aggregation that includes a wide selection of blog posts that belong to different sites that share the same topic: cats. The content of this site is daily updated and so, the information you read is new, fresh and, furthermore, it is wide and complex. The contents of Planet Site belong are those of the original writers and these writers are highly experienced in the wide range of subjects related to cats.

To add your blog's feed to Planet Cat, send an email to: contact [at] planet-cat.org

Derby's Dream Cats

Derby, the Sassy Cat, has a new blog devoted to the most beauteous felines-- both DreamGirl and DreamBoat cats. Of course, I signed up right away. Derby writes:

Derby's DreamCats: "If you want to be a DreamCat:

First read the rules - they will be enforced. If you don't agree with them, then don't join.

E-mail me your bestest DreamGirl or DreamBoat picture. My e-mail can be found in the comments of this post.

Labels: cat communities, cats, fun and games

Yo, cats and catted ones! Darcy here.

We're deep in the Year of the Pig, according to the Chinese calendar. So what did I do to celebrate? First, I flew to Amsterdam and booked a room at the Flying Pig Hostel. I know you're gonna ask me, "Why Amsterdam?" No good reason, except the distinguished airline that hubs in my fair city has daily flights there, and since they're operated by its European partner, you actually get something good to eat--like little sandwiches made with ham, and a bottle of Heineken.


The Flying Pig is the place to be if you love to party. The management boasts that it's

"the best place to meet other travelers, there are regular theme-parties and we sell the cheapest beer in town! Then move to the Leidseplein (square) where you can refuel at one of the many pubs or coffee shops. Move next-door to bring your evening to a climax in the so-called pop-temple the Paradiso or in the famous milk factory-club Melkweg!"

So, what cat doesn't like a milk factory? As it turned out, the milk factory is a club, a cinema, and a media center--but I'm getting ahead of myself.

First off, I was hungry, so I settled in at D'Vijeff Vlieghen,where I dined on fillet of suckling pig marinated in butter milk ! (You're beginning to sense a theme here, aren't you?)

After dinner, I overheard a bunch of young folks at the hostel who were going to the Melkweg to dance to Poptrash. It sounded intriguing:

Poptrash is een dansavond die volledig draait om leuke platen, gestoorde dj’s en de kater waarmee je de volgende ochtend op je werk komt. Gastheren The Punchout DJ’s presenteren je een opgefokte mix van rock, electro en hiphop. Platen die je dondersgoed kent, maar die nooit worden gedraaid door het maffiose volk in Hilversum. Want POPTRASH heeft schijt aan de afgezaagde hitjes die je op elke semi-alternatieve studentensoos naar je hoofd krijgt geslingerd!

But since I don't speak a word of Dutch, I rummaged through the web (free WIFI access at the hostel!) for a translation:

Poptrash are a dancing evening which twists entirely for leuke plates,
disturbed dj's and the tomcat with which you come the next morning on
your work. Hosts The Punchout DJ's present a bred mix of rock, electro
and hip-hop you. Plates which your dondersgoed know, but are never
twisted that by the maffiose people in hilversum. Because POPTRASH
have schijt to the afgezaagde hitjes which you swung on each
semi-alternatieve get studentensoos to your head!

So, I was in for disturbed dj's and the tomcat? What tomcat? If you go to a Poptrash event, you get up the next morning with a tomcat? What about those of us who prefer to come with the ladies? This was getting very confusing. But I chalked it all up to a translation program written by a drunken smoushund, possibly one who'd been listening to too much Duran Duran. But then I found this video on YouTube.

Or, hey, I could have gone to Tannhauser, but, I didn't fly all the way to Amsterdam to listen to opera. Suffice to say, those disturbed dj's sure know how to dish up the irony.

When my head stops ringing from the studentensoos, I'll fill you in on all that happened on my flight home. For now, I'm outta here!

Darcy X

Labels: travel

Are all you cats ready to party? As you all know, tomorrow is Mardi Gras. I've got my beads. I've got my mask--though I don't know if I want to put it on.

In New Orleans, they used to have a special crew for felines--the Krewe of Endymeow-- but apparently it was a casualty of hurricane Katrina. That's too bad! I hear, though, that they still have a special crew for dogs.

I guess I'll settle for some Shrimp Etouffee while I watch Emeril Lagasse cook on Food TV.



Don't forget to party on the Friday Ark at Modulator. On Sunday, the Carnival of the Cats rolls at Scribblings.

Labels: cats, catymology, Mardi Gras

There's nothing like a good stretch when you wake up from a nap.

I'm feeling much better. Thanks to everyone who sent purrs my way this week!


Be sure to stop by the Modulator for the Friday Ark, and on Sunday, catch the Carnival of the Cats at Pet's Garden Blog.

Over the weekend, Aloysius stopped eating and spent most of his time hiding under a chair in the family room. No sitting on the bed at night, no interest in playing. If I put a little of his favorite food (flaked whitefish and tuna) in front of him, he would lick it, but that's about all. He did come out from under the chair long enough to use his box, so I decided to wait until Monday to take him to the vet.

Maybe he was upset about all the housecleaning and vacuuming going on. Maybe he knew that I was having my writers' group over on Sunday, and that I was planning to read Aloysius' excellent poem, "A Pear-Shaped Cat Sings the Blues." Did he know that my friend Joan, a really good vocalist, would offer to sing it? Well, she did, and Aloysius felt too punky to even make an appearance.

On Monday, Aloysius greeted me in the kitchen with a meow. He expected his usual serving of canned food. He'd eaten some of his dry food during the night. Still, I thought he should go to the vet.

Getting Aloyius into his carrying box is always difficult. He thinks it's a jail cell, and of course, to him it is.

Getting him out of the box at the vet's office is just as hard.

To cut to the diagnosis: after thoroughly examining Aloysius, the vet couldn't find anything wrong. No dehydration, no swelling, no obvious source of pain. He offered me the choice of doing a full blood and urine workup or waiting to see if Aloysius got better on his own. I opted for the workup. Of course, Aloysius was indignant about being poked and prodded and having his vital fluids drawn. Afterwards, he gave me a dirty look and crawled back into his carrying box. I turned up the heated seats in the car so he wouldn't be too cold on the ride home. I apologized profusely, but I don't think Aloysius accepted.

This morning at 8:30, the vet called with the test results. Everything is perfectly normal. Aloysius had forgiven me and had slept on the bed with us most of the night. And by the time I delivered his morning meal, he was waiting impatiently beside his bowl.

So what was it? Just a tummy ache? I just hope it doesn't happen again soon. He's getting extra love and attention today. At least he's sitting on top of the chair!



Lisaviolet has invented a new game: Tummy Tuesday! If your cat wants to play, be sure to tag your post "Tummy Tuesday."

Labels: Tummy Tuesday

Chris Dolley makes me fall over laughing with his hilarious Kitten's Guide series. Read some recent entries here.

Cato, the perpetual candidate, has developed the perfect platform: I am self cleaning.

KT Cat, Maximum Leader of The Feline Theocracy, kindly dubbed me poet laureate.

Zeus the amazing always has a new trick up his sleeve.

ArtsyCatsy, run by a team of 15 formerly feral cats, takes E-commerce to a whole new level. And C.E.O. Rocky even has a MFA -- Master of Feline Arts!

And how could I forget that lovable Meezer, Chey? Like Cato, Chey's running for President. Are all Meezers natural politicians?

And, of course, Laurence Simon, King of the Catbloggers, is never afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve--at least when it comes to cats.



Purrs and treats to all of you! Be sure to send your goodies in to the Friday Ark at Modulator, and on Sunday, to the Carnival of the Cats at When Cats Attack.

Labels: cats, catymology, valentine

You gotta love me, ain’t no cat above me.
Just velvet glove me. You can’t get too much of me.
Catherine Deneuve me. You gotta love me.

I’m seriously crazy, congenitally lazy,
I “epater la bourgoisie,” yowling like a banshee.
But I’m rhyming like a daisy: She loves me not, she loves me.


You gotta love me, ain’t no cat above me.

I’m a sexy meezer, a yowler and a teaser.
My heart is in a squeezer. Gonna have a seizure.
But I’m the anti-freezer, ain’t no nasty skeezer.

You gotta love me, ain’t no cat above me.

Say you’ll be my valentine, I don’t need no dollar sign,
Let’s us get our hearts entwined, like a watermelon vine.
I ain’t got no anodyne, please don’t break this heart of mine.

You can sit above me, but you gotta love me
Rhyming like a daisy; You love me not? You love me!





P.S. Get on board with the Friday Ark at Modulator. On Sunday, the Carnival of the Cats lands at When Cats Attack.

Update: 2/16/07: If I weren't so vain, I wouldn't have submitted this to
Carnival of the Vanities #230, where it seems that Kehaar is a little confused about feline gender issues.

Labels: cats, catymology, hip hop, poetry, valentine

Check out these gorgeous pictures! The Scratching Post: February San Diego Sunset.

In some places it's the law that humans do not own us. The repurrcusions of this change could be enormous.

NABR Animal Law §ection - Ownership v. Guardianship:

The effort by activist groups to change the term 'owner' to 'guardian' in local ordinances and state laws relating to pets continues in a number of jurisdictions. While this campaign is marketed as a feel-good exercise, this 'simple' change in language elevates animals above their current status as property - with potentially enormous legal implications.

There are 15 cities, towns and counties that have adopted such an ordinance. One state, Rhode Island, has included similar language in its constitution.

Also, the term "pet" could be replaced by "companion animal." Maybe "animal friend" would be good for everyday use.

Labels: animal rights

Which would you rather have--a football or a nut? I've been stalking this cute little item for a couple of days now, and I think I've just about got it trapped.

Me, I'm not so crazy about the game called football. But I know a lot of humans go nuts over football, in the USA. (There's another game called football, of course, in the rest of the world.) World football, soccer to you US humans, might be the better game for cats, since it's played with the feet. See, cats have four feet, no opposable thumbs. So soccer suits us better.

I am, however, willing to live and let live when humans want to watch some football. Just make sure that you videotape the "Puppy Bowl" for your feline and canine friends, with special attention to the halftime Bissell Kitty Half Time Show. You can see some previous action over on the Animal Planet website. Tons of adorable kittens playing football!

More playful creatures will congregate at the Friday Ark tomorrow. On Sunday, play along with Laurence Simon as he hosts the Superbowl of Catblogging, a special edition of the Carnival of the Cats. By the way, it seems like the Carnival is in need of future hosts. Why not sign up?

Labels: fun and games