Cousin of Cookie Monster

A monster unfortunately called 'Salad Monster':

The word makes the monster. You (humans) spend your life learning who you are, while we monsters begin with a definition and then walk out what we are. Its not like we can just do whatever we want to, unless our word is vague. Cookie Monster spends existence trying to fulfill the word that calls Cookie into existence, but he doesn't know. None of us knows for sure when we begin. We are not free to change though. Cookie cannot become some other monster. The word has him or her. The word makes the monster.

I came into existence in the way that all monsters do. Two monsters rubbed together by accident. Among ourselves this is called 'Cousining' and is somewhat analogous to rapid and explosive human pregnancy; but it is not at all the same. What comes from a human is a human. We are each completely different things -- monsters. Humanity is, to us, one monster not lots of separate monsters. You humans are all part of one big monster and can thus be related, but each of us monsters is as different from each other as we are from humanity. Monsters are not *actually* cousins. I'm sorry if the title is misleading, but I'm trying to appeal to human minds. We aren't *actually* anything except the essence of our word, even though we don't begin with an understanding what that essence is.

I don't know what (not 'Which two' because that is a human thing) two monsters rubbed together; but I popped into existence in the usual way immediately. Immediately also the lottery revealed my word. They learned I was Salad the monster and mercifully let me know when I was able to listen. Now I do all that I can to walk out my name and discover what I am means and to be Salad in every way possible. All named monsters do this. The more definitive the word the more defined our existences are. I must determine what it means to be Salad, because I am Salad monster. I don't expect you to understand, Human. I'm just being an expressive salad right now, probably a boring salad, too.

I am not a Sesame Street monster or related to that show, but I have a similar kind of word as Cookie. I imagine we share some challenges, although I am a completely different thing. Currently I eat a lot of salad hoping to walk my word. Over time I will know more. Possibly I must be eaten as a salad. I don't know, yet. The word has me, and no other word does.

 

I shall try not to assess the role of humans in the production of monsters, why we exist or why we are words; and its mainly because of the difficulty of reaching an accurate accounting without doing a lot of research. There are books by both monsters and humans, but no human historian of note on this subject has stepped forward. I'm sure humans DO have something to do with the origin of monsters, and I suspect the CIA. I believe in evolution, and I believe humans evolved from simple cells as opposed to monsters. Unlike human evolution there is absolutely no trace of monster evolution. Therefore if we didn't evolve then the next best explanation is runaway bureaucracy and LSD and things like that. If you don't understand what I mean by 'Runaway bureaucracy' then watch Hypercube.

I have to be careful not to be mistaken for a stuffed animal, and this too, make me think that humans made us monsters. Why else would we be cuddly and fuzzy instead of yucky and slithery? Its actually humbling to think that I am not only the pinnacle of evolution but also of human technology. I'm king of all I survey, the true top of the food chain.

I'm so glad that I'm not a human, that I have had it printed on a t-shirt. I wear it around. It says "I'm so glad that I'm not human." Its my favorite shirt.

As I already mentioned I do like humans, and tomorrow I'm going to the thriftt store to do some human watching. I do this sometimes. I walk in like normal, then jump on a shelf and pretend to be a stuffed animal of questionable origin. Nobody ever questions. I could actually live this way and would never need an apartment, because nobody ever asks where the stuffed animals come from in the thrift stores. I like my apartment though, and I only do this for fun and for human watching.

 

I have had several nightmares about being in space.

Most of the today I spent at the library on the computer. Not many people came in, so I had no trouble staying on. I was researching space travel and specifically how to avoid accidentally entering an occupation which might tempt me to go into space. I'm into Horticulture, so there's a slight possibility that I could wind up working for NASA or one of the other hopeful space companies that want to grow things in space. One of my fears as a monster is that I will someday be put into space. Space is one of the few places that would bring me a hellish death.

Another thing, unrelated to my library research, was that today I had to hide from the police. Someone stole a salad from someone else. They rightly suspected that I had been near the scene of a theft and pursued me, but I got away. They never found out my name.

They don't know my name or why I was in the area. I'd like it to stay that way. I like police but not answering their questions. Anyways its kind of insulting that they would suspect me. Just because I, a monster, happen to be in the area when a salad is stolen.

I'm not afraid of them though, because they can't actually do anything that I would find terrible. They can't put me into space-like conditions. They don't have the budget. I doubt they even have a vacuum pump. They can shoot at me all day, and nothing bad will happen to me. They can try to put me into a paper shredder or run me over with their little trucks. It won't even tickle. Now if they were Space-x police or Blue Origin police I'd be very skittish. I'd be very careful around that kind of police. I'm not brave just mostly indestructible.

All of this is boring boring boring. I can't believe that I, an actual monster, am having such a boring day. I'm the most exciting thing in this city, yet I am bored. Bored bored. So bored. I should have let the police catch me and ask me who stole the salad.

I think that tonight another salad may be stolen, so I am going to call the police and warn them. I will disguise my voice and tell them my name is not any of their business.

I've got to do 3 papers before Monday, so maybe I'll start. One is about the impact of some scientist's work on urban cities. Cut and paste.

 

I am putting together some rap lyrics about horticulture and what its like to not be a human.

People ask all the time what I eat. I'm Salad Monster. That is what I eat. That is what I eat. I don't eat spaghetti or pizza or sugar death cereal, and that is the deal. Cookie monster's a pimp, and I hate him. I'd give money to eliminate him. Do I fight? Do I bite? I could. I don't. I'm a gentle monster unless you cross my moat.​

I look like I'm made of textiles. Maybe I am? The easiest way to get clean is to go to the dry cleaners. I should be called Dry Clean monster.

My favorite thing to do at the zoo is to watch the staff. They are the funniest animals there, but the monkeys are also somewhat funny.

I'm tired of talking about me, so I'm going to talk about the mice that live in my building. I let them hide in my apartment. The landlord hates them as do my neighbors, but they don't bother me. They are somewhat cowardly, however I don't smell to them like a predator. I've been able to make them think of me as a giant mouse. They still don't want to be friends, but they also don't run from me.

Once a week I bring home some leftover food for them, either from public trash cans or from food left out after restaurant meals. I don't leave it out for too long. I let the mice mess with it, and then I throw it out. I brush anything off the counters onto the floor, and the irobot cleans that up. What that doesn't clean up the roaches and ants eat.

The mice are used to living in my place which is just an empty apartment with some vinyl flooring and some carpeting. I'm plush, so I don't need a couch or bed. I like having lots of space, and the only furniture is for electronics. I also keep some step ladders around.

No rats. I don't allow rats.

 

What would it be like to own someone and count myself responsible for moral decisions for the both of us? Its a monstrous thought, isn't it? That is how you people have lived for thousands of years. You can't tell me humanity isn't a monster of its own. That's not an insult. Its one monster talking to another. I own being a monster. I do what I want, but I don't imagine that it is admirable. But you. You thrive on making decisions for other people and think you deserve a pat on the back for it, like its some beautiful thing.

It starts with parents. Most monsters don't have them, but almost every human has. They make decisions for their kids. Then those kids learn either to do the same or to stay kids. Then every crop of kids turns into a chaotic group of controllers and controlled. You can't even chart it out, because you don't know who is what. And a controlled can flip into a controller, and a controller can flip into a controlled. Its madness, like lights blinking on and off.

Try following human politics. Here is the truth of it: they can't tell you the truth; because you don't want to hear it. You take some well meaning human, put them in charge but tell them what to do. You say "Do this, but I never told you to do it. I was never here. You're in charge. You're responsible. Save us." Then you force them to lie, and so they lie. Then everyone they control has to lie, too; and you turn the whole thing into a nightmarish existence for everyone in government. That's human politics. In politics people get punished for doing the right thing. It can get extremely bad, so bad that people stop believing there is good or evil. But there is. Some things are evil. Some are good.

There are a few of you that make the rest worthwhile, but most of you are a class of idiots. That special few carries the weight of your value. I, Salad Monster, would eat you all. I'd chuck you into space. If it weren't for them I'd flush you. It would be an easy decision. In that case I'd be getting rid of a festering evil; but its not so simple. Its never simple with humans.