March 2021 – Grigori T. Cross

Gills are noticeably absent from the “scales” option in this question and so I will assume I am meant to choose between a mammalian appearance and a reptilian appearance rather than between the mammalian and the fishlike. I will further assume that I am meant to assume some change in my genetic code has taken place such that I developed scales or (a great deal) more fur organically as opposed to having had this new outer layer affixed to me somehow.

Having scales is an attractive option for me. I have always had an affinity for reptiles and have felt arguably more admiration for my “lizard brain” than those complex cognitive functions which serve to “humanize” me. So that I am not mistaken, let me say that I have always had a near-reverent admiration for the abilities of my human brain and do what I can not to take them for granted. At the same time, I have had what I might call a tumultuous relationship with my natural instincts and learned to treat them with the respect they deserve only in the latter half of my life; I had therefore to admire more aggressively the animal inside me so that I might counter the self-imposed anti-bestial conditioning I called my “spirituality” that had me spellbound by mysticism until I lost my faith as an adult. The serpent in the Garden of Eden, shapeshifting reptilian aliens, venom, cold blood, base appetites, it all sounded—sounds—so appealing!

While it’s not impossible to imagine counterpoints to all the points I list in favor of becoming more reptilian in appearance, it’s difficult indeed to list them while believing at the same time I’ve successfully made the case for or against them. Even as deep in fantasy as I can allow myself to go, I recognize that none of it is practical consideration. I have no idea what life would be like with my body covered in scales. After getting used to it and figuring out how properly to use this new body, I would have to wonder if my next step would be to join some circus sideshow or dive headfirst into the sciences to see what about the human condition anyone could discover or infer by studying me. When imagining what I would enjoy most about a reptilian appearance, what comes to mind most easily is not what it would really be like but what reptiles represent to me.

The thought of being covered in (more) fur is not immediately appealing; I like for the most part where the hair on my body is and I think I would prefer overall to have none rather than more. That would, however, mean losing the lovely metalhead mane I have kept now for well over a decade and the exact right amount of hair I have serving as my natural “happy trail.” Being covered in fur and thus transforming into the ape-man would be inconvenient to be sure, but I do after all live as a mammal already and as such would need a much shorter transition period between lifestyles. Just to make it harder on myself, I’ll assume “fur” stipulates that I cannot simply shave most of my body once a week or however more or less frequently I’d prefer. Even still, I love stroking fur. I love the feel of skin beneath fur. I have spent my whole life in a body equipped with fur. If more fur I must have, more fur I will have.

With care,

~ Grigori

When asked about toes—this occurs much more often than you might think—I am reminded again of the way Martin Heidegger discussed the human perception of the hammer. He says more or less that we focus our thoughts on what it is the hammer is fixing rather than focusing on the hammer itself until or unless the hammer is broken and only then do we really see the hammer for the thatthere (I’m careful here not to say Dasein or use the word “object” simply because it wouldn’t be proper) it is. This comes to mind because I so often neglect my poor toes in my own thoughts unless something has gone wrong. It I stub one of them, if my boxers flip inside-out as I’m shaking it off my foot because it hooked my big toe, if I’m popping the joints, if any one of them snags some corner of the sock I’m putting on, I think of them and then they are nothing but a collection of tiny nuisances.

I am a human male. I suffered no birth defects that would affect my toes and I suffered no accident that would delete any of my digits from my body. I therefore have ten toes that help me balance and walk and dance, that let me wiggle them with joy even while giving it no thought at all, that help me do yoga and pushups, that remind me of my apely ancestors. I am grateful for them.

With care,

~ Grigori