I had this great idea to have a Moby Dick read-a-thon. I got halfway into the night and fell asleep just around the time Ahab starts letting his freak flag fly. Granted, my failure was owing in small part to the drinking game I’d started to play for every time Melville used “monomaniac” to describe Ahab. I went from zero to pants-on-my-head pretty quick.
I actually wish they’d made us read Moby Dick instead of some others in high school. Yeah, he does drooble over whale bits at some point, but its a delicious good story. And the bestie antics of Ishmael and Queequeg are just the shippiest delight since shippy the ship shipper shipped a ship. Seriously, if you don’t want your own Queequeg to snuggle with by the time you are a 100 pages in, I think your heart might be made of Ahab. Queequeg is really the cuddliest cannibal of all the cannibals. Even Ishmael agrees: “For all his tattooings he was on the whole a clean, comely looking cannibal.” But I have the distinct feeling I shouldn’t get too attached…
You can learn a lot from Moby Dick. Like, a harpoon is an ideal tool to snag the bowl of mashed potatoes from the other end of the dinner table. And a scuttle butt is the drinking water for the ship’s crew. IT IS A LITERAL WATER COOLER WHERE YOU GO TO GET THE SCUTTLE BUTT. OMG! DYING OF ETYMOLOGY!
If you want to have your own Dick-a-Thon I recommend being partially submerged in a bathtub full of brine. And everytime a cat comes into room scream “THAR SHE BLOWS!” But I really would like to suggest you close your windows lest your neighbors start to be suspicious of all this blowing.