Giant pink bunny guts

The backstory: I called Sarah to tell her I’m going to change my name to Smith, because yet another person from my past found me via Google and the weblog. (Okay, so I dated this guy [censored] years ago, and he wasn’t a nutjob, but still, we barely dated, and it was a long, long time ago, and isn’t there a statute of limitations on remembering names that far back? Hell, I forgot his name, but he remembered mine and even remembered how to spell it!)

Anyway, while talking to Sarah, she told me about this extremely strange entry on Wikipedia (she got it from Scott of AMCGTLD. It’s a giant pink bunny in the mountains of Italy. So we’re looking at the picture (you can click on it to see an enlargement), and Sarah points out that there are people on it. And I say, “What’s that stuff between the arm and the leg? It looks like poop.” She says, “I think it’s guts.” So then she clicks on the Gelitin website and says, “Holy cow, it is guts, I was just kidding!” So then I start reading this:

The things one finds wandering in a landscape: familiar things and utterly unknown, like a flower one has never seen before, or, as Columbus discovered, an inexplicable continent; and then, behind a hill, as if knitted by giant grandmothers, lies this vast rabbit, to make you feel as small as a daisy.

The toilet-paper-pink creature lies on its back: a rabbit-mountain like Gulliver in Lilliput. Happy you feel as you climb up along its ears, almost falling into its cavernous mouth, to the belly-summit and look out over the pink woolen landscape of the rabbitÃŒs body, a country dropped from the sky; ears and limbs sneaking into the distance; from its side flowing heart, liver and intestines.

Happily in love you step down the decaying corpse, through the wound, now small like a maggot, over woolen kidney and bowel. Happy you leave like the larva that gets its wings from an innocent carcass at the roadside.

Such is the happiness which made this rabbit.

i love the rabbit the rabbit loves me.

Oh. My. God.

These people are seriously ill. Or, at the very least, they have some major potty-training issues.

Those really are its guts. And what is up with this:

ears and limbs sneaking into the distance; from its side flowing heart, liver and intestines.

So do you think the weirdness comes from being artists, or from being European, or from being European artists? Because any way you look at this, it’s effing lunacy.

On the other hand, it sure got me off the subject of guy I dated for a brief time [censored] years ago suddenly popping up in my email.