For some months, I have been threatening a critical overview of the benighted field of "scientific" endeavour that calls itself "Cryptozoology." I have covered it briefly through posts on bald sloths, the appearance of the Loch Ness monster on Google Earth, what Ecological Niche Modelling tells us about Bigfoot (answer - it's a bear), and the so-called Coulport Cougar. But after reflecting on this, I've decided I can't be bothered. As I look out of my window, it's dark and cold, and chilly rain is lashing the reedbeds of the East River marshes. Cryptozoology belongs to the hot, sun-bleached days of late summer, when everyone that matters is on holiday and there's no real news to put in the newspapers (remember them?). So enough of strange beasties for now.
Even my friend Andrew's apparent discovery of a little-known subgenre of cinematic endeavour, Cryptozoological Porn, cannot tempy me (nor should it tempt you, gentle reader, lest shame and prosecution quickly follow). Apparently he "saw an advertisement" (yeah, right) for a movie in which a busty blonde goes trekking into dark forests in search of the giant cryptozoological hominid. She ends up - as you might expect - having a close encounter of exactly the wrong sort.
Apparently the film does have one authentic note. As the monster disappears back into the woods, our heroine realizes that, after all that, she had forgotton to take its picture. Yup, she's definitely a cryptozoologist.