I call it the Wump.
Pull the chords from the song "Fascination Street" by The Cure and sculpt them in the form of a sleeping cat; drop the cat on a young man's head, and Viola! Wump.
I first encountered the Wump while watching Labyrinth with my cousins, a jealous-making clan owning everything that my parents--still reading the directions to the microwave--lacked the consumer empathy to purchase: a VCR, Giga Pets, Cool Ranch Doritos. Ensconced in a paradise of Lunchables and bean bag chairs, I watched David Bowie's glorious Wump glide across the flat screen TV.
Since then I've purchased a DVD player, half of Barnes and Noble, and enough music to crash a coffee shop of Mac Books. Sifting through my cultural capital, i recognized common themes in what attracted me as an audience:
1. Socially inept geniuses
2. Bob Dylan
The Wump is as ubiquitous as the Fresca cans trashing my apartment (socially inept, i hide in the campus library and bid on Dylan bootlegs while my room rots; i haven't changed my sheets since moving in) :
Robert Smith of The Cure
Dream from Gaiman's Sandman
Where did the Wump come from? To what strange history do we owe this frazzled scalp?
Why do i find it attractive?
The explanation for the last question is simple: i eat more Tim Burton movies than carbohydrates. The earlier question concerning Wump evolution is more complex, and would require a full examination of fossil records and the application of carbon dating to give a satisfactory answer.
Luckily, i am everything but satisfactory.
you splice this
The Wump inspired me to experiment.
How come when they do it, it looks cool, but when i do it,
i look like something that crawled out of the exhaust pipe of the Mystery Machine?
GIVE ME SCOOBY SNACKS