"'I'm rooting for the crocodile. I hope he swallows your friends whole.'

--Mrs Bickerman, Lake Placid

Unsurprisingly, Kel and I had the same reaction to Chupacabra: Dark Seas. Chupariffic! Oh SciFi Channel, how well you know your target demographic of two. Slaughterfest at sea!

And by the way, Kel? The eels? *Are* the aliens. They're one and the same. Stay focused, sweetie.

El Yo has left for mighty California, which means that I am going to bust out all the sea monster movies I can find. Deep Rising, Deep Blue Sea, Frankenfish, Ghost Ship, Dagon, and of course the intelligent, alien, angry eels.

I can't explain it. I'm fascinated. There are vast swaths of ocean that haven't been explored, so it's quite possible that those vast swaths are inhabited by hyperintelligent eels. And I'd be angry too, if I was an eel. All those movies are about humans swimming up and poking sea creatures in the snoot. "Hello! Are you edible? Hello? I like eels! With butter and lemon! "*ZZZZZT* Y'all bring these things on yourself.

Oceanography is a crazy science. There's so much to study, it would take more than a lifetime to absorb it all. And frankly I would love it if we never found out what exactly is at the bottom of the ocean, because humans have a nasty habit of destroying everything we come into contact with. Deep sea creatures who come into contact with people have a life expectancy of 13 seconds, unless that life is extended in a cage and involves electrodes.

I'm waiting for the sea monster movie with a happy ending. By which I mean that the sea monsters win. And I could write that movie. Filmed on majestic Lake Champlain, my movie would feature Champ, the lovable sea monster who has finally had enough--enough of the speedboats leaking gas and chopping up his little finny friends, enough of boaters throwing their trash overboard and killing all the birds with plastic bags, enough of all the industrial pollutants slowly seeping in. And thanks to America's soft gun laws, Champ's getting help from Mr Smith and Mr Wesson. See y'all at Sundance.

I think for the moment though, I'm doomed to disappointment. No matter how many bikini-clad chum-bunnies a sea monster eats, he always winds up on the receiving end of some dumb human stunt involving explosive charges on a timer. Oh come on, evolution, catch up. Adjust the brains of everything with gills to either not eat, avoid or throw, anything that ticks.

Hollywood? Are you listening?

*sigh*

ps. Kelly? You're totally selling yourself short if you don't realize you would have *made* Pinata Island.