With apologies to Emily Dickinson, death is that thing with feathers. Black feathers. The icon used in Japanese news coverage of the avian flu crisis is the black silhouette of a rooster. Not to make light of avian flu, it's horrible for the birds and the people whose livelihoods depend upon them, but the Black Rooster of Death cracks me up. Every time I watch the news, I think, "Yes, Death is the thing with feathers." And then I am overcome with the urge to read Without Feathers, just to see if it's as brilliant as I thought it was twenty years ago. The library is closed now too. I ought to go ahead and buy a copy. Given that I'm twenty years more educated, I'll probably get more of the jokes.
134 words | March 4, 2004 09:57 PM | Lost in translation