This is one of those things that only my closest friends understand. I'm developing an interest in furry culture without being a furry. "Yeah, right," some ostensibly in-the-know person replies, apparently not recognizing that life does not consist merely of the duality, affiliation or rejection. Is that a matter of intelligence, an inability to search out an eternity of permutations in action? Possibly.
I've had an interest in marginal groups since I was a subatomic little zygotic speck, but such groups are in short supply lately; commercialization has swallowed up the great majority of them. In fact, I'm afraid that my recent desire to connect myself somehow to furry culture can serve as a prophecy of its rise into the mainstream. I have a habit of predicting trends. I'm attracted to whatever will be corrupted in five or ten years. I hope that my interest is not a curse on a currenly non-commodified desire.
Nevertheless, perhaps my instincts, inherited from a father who was head of publicity for Newsweek back when news magazines had not been bumped down to the human-interest level by internet news, are showing me the path to future success. Perhaps we can have liberalism without self-destruction.
I really don't know, but the scheming part of me is wondering whether I should rush to make furry friends. Why not take the chance? Whatever the outcome, the ride will be fabulous!
But don't forget folks, that's what you get folks, for feelin' yiffy.
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