Look Closer...

Submersion. Hemingway wrote that seven-eighths of any work of fiction should remain, like the bulk of an iceberg, unseen. Freud believed that conscious thoughts and perceptions are buoyed, like an iceberg tip, by our vast and submerged unconscious. Yet for all of the former’s legendary safaris, and all of the latter’s giant-cock worship, each man missed the master metaphor, against which all other placid-surface-concealing-turbulent-depths metaphors must now be measured. Hippo sex.

“Hippos swimming together” reads the original—naive—Flickr caption for the above picture. Well, literally, yes, these two smiling monsters are swimming together. Mind you Anne Anthropomorphizer, they are not together in any sense of aww-shucks cooperative hippopotaplay, but rather in the way they are fused by a furious, feet-long hippopotapenis. Africarulez684, like Ernest Hemingway before him, was completely misled by the bull’s charming—and, dare I say, smug—grin and the lack of aggressive hippo yawning. An underwater snapshot would simply crush both men’s belief systems: raw hippo tonnage whipped back and forth in cloudy Nile water; paws flailing this way and that; sun-baked genitalia engorged to the point of biological farce. Iceberg? Come on Ernest, Sigmund. Lets get real.

The case for hippo sex as an all-encompassing and flawlessly accurate metaphor for human society is, therefore, airtight. Given this truism, our new blog, hornyhornyhornyhippos!, seeks to dive underwater (into society) with our underwater cameras (laptops) and capture all the horrible and conflicted hippopotapenetration below the surface (?). Enjoy.