Three guys from Georgia are claiming they discovered a dead Bigfoot. The press has given it a lot of coverage, and I think deep down everyone is hoping it’s the real thing. If it is real, the question that should be on everyone’s mind is apparent:
Why has no one mourned for the Bigfoot?
This is a living thing, people. No one has taken a second to consider that a life has been lost. So what if its discovery may lead to the identification of a new species once considered to be mythological? He could have had a family. A family of other Bigfoots, crushed at his passing.
I’ve seen pictures of the guys who claim to have found Bigfoot, and they all show them smiling throughout this whole ordeal. They show no respect for the dead. Or the possible other bereaved Bigfoots out there.
I think these guys need to be taken down a peg. I’d love it if in the middle of their next press conference, a teenage Bigfoot with a skateboard and a backwards cap busts through the doors to give them a piece of his mind:
Hey, that carcass you keep in the freezer and run DNA tests on? That’s my Dad, okay?!? Show some respect! His name was Rick Bigfoot! Let me tell you how this has impacted our lives…I planned on going to Bigfoot college this next semester. I was to study philosophy. Dad was so proud…until he fell off a rock while hunting raccoons. Although we continued to grieve, we were at least relieved at the fact that we had Dad’s insurance policy to fall back on….until we remembered that we don’t have any insurance! We’re Bigfoots! No one within the Bigfoot community has thought to incorporate the idea of life insurance into our society! Now I can’t go off to the Bigfoot version of Yale and become a scholar. My little brother was going to shave his entire body and try out for the Lakers, but now his dream is ruined too! It’s all over for us! The bottom line is I was going to wear a tweed jacket and smoke corncob pipes, and you fucked that up!
Some people seem overjoyed at the fact that this case might not be a hoax, but it’s callous to celebrate the mere existence of a Bigfoot when no one takes a second to reflect on its life. He could have accomplished a lot of things. Maybe he had a career he loved doing, like cobbling. Yeah, I could see this particular Bigfoot having a love affair with cobbling. Sure, it didn’t always pay the bills. But goddamnit if that wasn’t when he was at his happiest. When he sat in his basement, cobbling away on all kinds of shoes, as the sweet sound of Bigfoot porno played softly in the background. Because him and Mrs. Bigfoot were into that kind of shit.
While you’re going about your day, pause for just a moment of silence to honor this departed Bigfoot. If you can’t bring yourself to mourn for an animal, just pretend a really hairy person died and act accordingly.