Welcome To Cookooland: an introduction, of sorts.
When I was in my early twenties, my father, in a drunken state, kicked our German shephard down the basement stairs. I voiced my opposition to the deplorable act. He proceeded to get physical with me. After about a minute of him pushing me around, with my right hand clenched into a fist, my mom stepped in between us, sending my father to the living room and me to my room. Afterwards, I informed my father if he ever did anything like that again one of us would be going to the hospital and I had no intention of it being me.
In the news this past week, a man reportedly kicked a helpless squirrel down the grand canyon. Can you imagine how long it took for that little fella to hit the ground? Obviously, it triggered what the memory of what my father had done three decades ago. Had it been a Cookoo Charlie story, and he had witnessed the murder of this innocent rodent, he would’ve drop-kicked his ass down the canyon too. I imagine Cookoo would’ve said something like, “Rocky sends his regards.”
Ever since I can remember, I’ve had a passion for animals. When I was a young boy, my mom would take my sisters and I to the Youngstown Main Library, where I checked out as many animal books as I could. Three weeks later, I’d return those allotted books, all read, and gather up a new batch. For years, we repeated this literary cycle. On my 11th birthday, my maternal grandparents gave me a huge book on the fabulous world of animals. 15 days after receiving this beautiful gift, a heart attack claimed the life of my grandfather. Forty years later, lacking a dustjacket, worn and battered, the book remains in my possession.
Currently, we are living in the age of a sixth mass extinction. 150 to 200 species of flora and fauna go extinct every day. What differentiates this extinction from its predecessors is the primary causal factor: the 21 century man.
Within the next twenty years, give or take some years, we may not be able to hear the roar of a lion,defending his pride or hear a trumpeting elephant as she scolds her calf, a wolf’s lonely howl on the nightwinds or encounter a great white off the Farallon Islands along the California coast.
I don’t know about you but I can’t live in a world without those men would deem beasts. I won’t. I will do whatever is in my power to protect these animals, short of murder. That department, I leave to my alter-ego, Cookoo Charlie, the cannibal clown.
I evolved Cookoo Charlie from a Halloween character in 2009 to the animal-avenging monster he is today. He kills, often eating, those who threaten, abuse and murder Gaia’s wild children. Welcome to Cookooland.
