This evening, I went to see "March of the Penguins"--a documentary about Emperor penguins in Antarctica. What a fascinating movie! If you haven't seen it, it's worth the $9 ticket to watch the trek these arctic creatures go through just to procreate.
Speaking of penguins, back in the days of Bloom County, I fell hopelessly in love with an interpid, erudite, psychologically scarred, intellectual penguin named Opus. I have a collection of stuffed Opi that I cherish. Opus in a bath towel and shower cap. Opus in antlers with Christmas ornaments. Opus in a Santa hat. Opus with a Valentine heart. Opus in safari gear. Dandilion break Opus. And a two foot version of just plain Opus. I never collected teddy bears or dolls, but I have Opi!
What I love about Opus is his innocence and simplicity. Even though he's black and white with a touch of pink for a nose, his outlook is multi-faceted, rainbowed, and gray all over. I don't take the Sunday Washington Post anymore, but I wonder what Opus has had to say of late about the war in Iraq, the Shrub Administration, 9/11 and the Patriot Act, John Ashcroft, Dick Cheney, Karl Rove, Donald Rumsfeld, gay rights, the religious right,* the disjointed left, living wills, and censorship of Doonesbury. If he's still the Opus I know and love, he probably thinks it all stinks. What I'd like to know is, how would he change it? What would he recommend?
There was a time when many of us listened to this sage little penguin with abandonment issues. Maybe we need to listen to him again...
* I saw a bumper sticker the other day that read "The Religious Right is Neither." Hear, hear.