Unicorn of the Sea

The aquarium (yes, I love fish) has a sign in their new shark exhibit. Something to the effect of "Sharks are the unicorns of the modern era". But how can that possibly be true? Sharks are real and unicorns weren't, right? Or at least that's what I always believed. But the people running the aquarium know more than I do about many things, and sharks are (hopefully) one of them, so maybe it could be true.

Were unicorns real creatures at some point? Did the roam the land the way the sharks roam the sea, being drawn to blood, ferocious animals that everyone feared? Were unicorns seen as the most vicious of animals, hunted to extinction to protect families from the constantly looming threat of being gored when they least expected it? Did unicorns stalk their prey, the tip of their horn the only thing visible, warning them of the doom at hand? Did merchants sell unicorn teeth to tourists visiting the forest for the first time?

Mayhaps sharks are really just a myth. Maybe there's some benign creature out there, something that afar appears to be this deadly evil. Perhaps noone has ever died because of a shark, all of the stories have been made up, imagined, designed to keep children from running out and playing in the ocean while their parents are safely sleeping. It's possible that all of the pictures were faked, all of the stories fictitious, all of the fear created and not due to something that's real. Plausibly sharks will be the creatures of myths years after they're discovered to just be a variety of tuna, their shape and size appearing changed by the refraction of water.

Truly, though, the quote is supposed to be taken more literally. There used to be no sharks and many unicorns, and over time the unicorns changed. Being hunted out of the forests and off the plains, the only place left, the only place safe was in the water. Through the years, the unicorn lost its horse-like appearance. Being a magical, mystical creature, of course, it can do that. As time passed, the unicorns became sharks.

How many stories about sharks /were/ there when unicorns roamed the earth?

Blame it on the Tuna

As I ponder what to initiate my blog with, I realize there's only one obvious topic. War, famine, computers, the sky, cute little bunnies, none of them are as important as the tuna. One of my favorite words (somewhere after queue, but before cat), it also makes a rather tasty sandwich. Often when asked a question, my answer will be "tuna," if only to confuse the person I'm talking to. Many things have been blamed on the tuna in my time and conversations. Of course, I do enjoy confusing people, and could use a myriad of other words to accomplish the same task. I'll stick with tuna.

But for most of my life, I didn't really realize just how impressive tuna could be.

After moving out to California, one of the first things I did was go to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. (Ok, so I went to go to the aquarium, but my sister decided the line was too long, so we didn't actually go in--didn't manage to actually make it /into/ the aquarium until a few months later.) And among all the amazing exhibits they've got there, they have a fish tank that has some tuna. Now, I always thought that tuna were a small fish like sardines and such, and maybe some varities are, but not these.. these tuna were huge. Not as colorful as tropical fish, but a single tuna's as large as or larger than a tropical fish tank, so it'd be a bit hard to keep as a pet anyway.

Ok, so the tuna really isn't my favorite fish, there're these little fish that dig homes for themselves by picking up rocks with their mouths to move them out of their way, and then spit them out. While also not as colorful as many other fish, the industry those fish exhibit is more fun to watch than ants. When's the last time you ever saw an /ant/ spit things at you? But even though the tuna isn't my favorite, they now, in addition to their previous properties, remind me that the world is a vast confusing place, and I don't know anywhere near everything.

Of course, I'll still continue to blame it on the tuna.