This Week in Cats

‘Let’s enlist the cat in the impending class-war.’
- John K. Samson

Music listeners always have the strangest relationships with their favourite bands. There’s a balance to how fans approach their favourite bands: they either project their own unique values upon a band (and feel that as such, a band is a perfect representation of one’s desirable qualities), or feel that their favourite bands somehow found them (and, as such, that they are uniquely suited to the band in question). Both perspectives are valid, and I’m positive that both perspectives are at play in the process of discovering new favourite bands.

The image that we project upon our favourite bands – images that are representative of ourselves, our personalities, our values – is one of the fashions in which we can reconcile having a diverse taste in music. If anyone ever questions how and why you listen to a little bit of everything, your self-projection onto certain types of music is a perfectly valid answer: you see different elements of your world-view in different genres, artists, albums, songs. This is how I can listen to Son Volt and the Dandy Warhols in tandem. It’s also how I can reconcile my love of Leonard Cohen and Anal Cunt.

And, just as we project values onto our music, we project our values on other things – most commonly inanimate objects and pets. The anthropomorphization of inanimate objects and food items has resulted in the California Raisin and plenty of hilarious sports teams’ logos. This, presumably, is an advertising ploy; it enables human beings to physically identify with inanimate objects. However, the anthropomorphization of pets in entirely more sophisticated; seeing as how we are the daily caregivers and companions to our pets (and the fact that pets and pet owners share more physical similarities), we are allowed to construct a far more complex systems of projections onto our pets.

Anthropomorphized cats, as a result of their owners, have rapidly been appearing everywhere. The LOLcats internet meme, for example, is based entirely constructing humour based around assigning cats human qualities. Catbook, a popular Facebook application, allows Facebook users (n.b.: the users are not cats) to create a Facebook page for their cats, designed to mirror the profiles of their companions.

In a sense, these are some of the few instances where cat-owners can exert influence over their an aspect of their lives. As many feel that their working, living, and creative situations are beyond their direct control, being able to sculpt a little soul to their specification provides a modicum of relief. It’s a similar rationale to that used by pregnant teenaged mothers on Maury Povich – they just want to exert their influence on a loved one, and be loved back. In a sense, being an anthropomorphized cat owner is a little slice of divinity – in God-less times, being a cat-owner offers a rare chance to pinch-hit for Him.

So how, exactly, do cat-owners sculpt the personas of their beloved? It’s typically a mixture of personal traits, desirable traits (often comparable to the features of celebrities or fictional characters), and always, always, human traits. John K. Samson, of the Weakerthans, off-handedly paints his cat as a Marxist revolutionary. But, what kind of projections are painted upon the cats within my own backyard? Take a look:

Guillaume-Francois ‘Ari’ Katz
Don’t be fooled by the French name, or the reference to Lifetime’s lead singer. Guillaume, though resembling Richard Parker in Life of Pi, is a surly bastard, equal parts Charles Bukowski and uninmpressed record store clerk (the type encountered in your teen years). He generally won’t attack unless provoked, and once you’ve proven your love for Wire records, he’ll probably even grudgingly befriend you. Like Bukowski, he rarely rises before noon and is probably surly due to mind-shattering hangovers; gold-hearted, he'll only really bother you if he's seeking out another drink. His choice of attire would most likely be ill-fitting pants and a vomit-stained white t-shirt. Reflective of his embittered-yet-sensitive nature, his favourite song is most likely the Pogues' ‘Fairytale of New York’. Summarized in a single adjective, Guillaume is rascally.

Frankenstein
A chubby, adorable, misconstrued free spirit, Frankenstein is the feline embodiment of Wilco’s ‘Misunderstood.’ Generally adored by most, socializing with Frankie isn’t always easy: it’s like talking to an acquaintance who speaks in a different rhythm. While you’d certainly like to get to know them better, your conversations are marred with unintentional interruptions and awkward pauses. Like Lindsay Weir from Freaks and Geeks, she’s content to be by her lonesome, but generally makes for rewarding company (and, possesses surprising depth). Her attire also closely follows a Freaks and Geeks aesthetic, and she’s most likely a fan over oversized green army jackets. Musically, Frankie is lands somewhere in between Belle, Sebastian, Tegan, or Sara. Summarized in an adjective, Frankie is non-plussed.

Penelope
Penelope’s pretty righteous – she’s probably a mix between Blake and Fletcher of the popular webcomic Nothing Nice to Say. She generally sticks to her type, and her type probably consists of freegans, Aaron Cometbus readers, and fans of East Bay punk rock like Discount (however, she finds Jawbreaker a little too 'arty' for her tastes). Her clothing generally consists of merchandise from the No Idea catalogue held together by pins; no one’s quite sure where she obtained her pants. She’s generally happy-go-lucky, be she was certainly happy-go-luckier before Against Me! signed to a major label. She’ll talk your ear off all night about the merits of particular Dillinger 4 records, but she’ll be dead wrong (because, really, Versus God is clearly their best). Her favourite bands are signed to Fat Wreck Chords, but she’d never admit to it. Summarized in an adjective, Penelope is HOTWATERMUSIC'SNODIVISON (which, I realize isn't a word).

Gov. General (or Lieutenant, pronounced ‘Leftenant’) Gord Ferguson
Gord Ferguson, pictured here as a scant kitten, has since developed into a robust cat, gorged on maple bacon and beaver tails. He’s eccentric in a completely accessible way, and tends to be comparable to your friend who is just a little too into Canadian music. He finds the Rheostatics’ glee club vocals palatable, owns a ‘Barenaked’ hat (which is standard issue Canadiana), and knows a hell of a lot about Julie Doiron’s career following Eric’s Trip. He’s also a strange songwriter – probably sounding like Sudbury, ON’s answer to Tom Waits – and likes to make esoteric metaphors, frequently referencing ‘railway teeth’ and ‘conifer eyes.’ These types of metaphors didn’t work for Stephen Malkmus, but they certainly work for Gord. Summarized in an adjective, Gord Ferguson is Canadian.

Submissions for the next edition of This Week in Cats are welcome!