Greetings little friends. I hope your week started off alright and that if you didn’t have a Valentine for Vargentine’s Day, that you were able to eat a whole box of chocolate and down it with a bottle of red wine somewhere. My Valentine’s Day was a sad one. In the late eve of the day, my pet black rabbit Bunnicula had to be rushed to the emergency veterinarian and I had to make the very difficult choice to end her suffering. She was eight years old which is pretty old for a bunny. Before Drunk In A Graveyard was even a thought for Scotty Floronic and myself, Scott surprised me one day by buying me a little five week old black rabbit, and for eight years she was my closest pal. So, in her honor, this week we will be doing some THRASHING in her memory, to her very favourite band – Fall of Efrafa.
First – some background on Bunnicula. We named her this after the book series.
Which, if you read this as a kid, you know your childhood was dope as fuck.
Further, Bunnicula was evil. She was a female dwarf cross rabbit, who lived on a diet of raw hatred and rabbit treats. She hated pretty much everyone and had no issues with biting the shit out of you if you got too close. She enjoyed tearing around the house doing bunny backflips while listening to Fall of Efrafa.
Now. Fall of Efrafa, for those not in the know, where a FUCKING PERFECT post hardcore concept band from Britain who released a trilogy of albums called “The Warren of Snares” based upon the mythology within the book “Watership Down” by Richard Adams.
Now. Many people hate Watership Down. If you’re one of these people, please go deposit yourself into a garbage can, because it’s where you belong.
If, by chance, you have not heard Fall of Efrafa, I demand for you to go listen to their work immediately. It’s amazing, heavy, moving, and at times, so fucking WEIRD. The music has spoken to me from the time I first heard it, and it’s good to know that my rabbit crazed affections are not singular. A bunch of scary metal dudes screaming about bunnies is really a dream come true for me. Though I suppose, Fall of Efrafa isn’t so scary.
Though I love all of their work, including the numerous side projects, like Light Bearer, this was the first song I ever heard, and truly, it has stuck with me most prominently.
After Bunnicula died, and I brought her body home, I picked up my very tattered copy of Watership Down and transcribed the final scene as it gives me comfort, and has always stuck with me as a most powerful ending to a book, because in Watership Down, Hazel does die. He is old. Bunnicula was old. But, even though he dies, and leaves behind his rabbit family, he joins the Owsla of his god figure El-Ahrairah.
One chilly blustery morning in March, I cannot tell exactly how many springs later, Hazel was dozing and waking in his burrow. He had spent a good deal of time there lately, for he felt the cold and could not seem to run so well as in days gone by. He had been dreaming in a confused way – something about rain and elder bloom – when he woke to realize there was a rabbit lying quietly beside him – no doubt some young buck who had come to ask for his advice. The sentry in the run outside should not really have let him in without asking first. Never mind, thought Hazel. He raised his head and said, “Do you want to talk to me?”“Yes, that’s what I’ve come for,” replied the other, “You know me, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” said Hazel hoping he would be able to remember his name in a moment. Then he saw that in the darkness of the burrow, the strangers ears were shining with a faint silver light. “Yes, my Lord,” he said “Yes I know you.”
“You’ve been feeling tired,” said the stranger, “but I can do something about that. I’ve come to ask whether you’d care to join my Owsla. We shall be glad to have you and you’ll enjoy it. If you’re ready, we might go along now.”
They went out past the young sentry who paid the visitor no attention. The sun was shining and in spite of the cold there were a few bucks and does at silfay, keeping out of the wind as they nibbled the shoots of spring grass. It seemed to Hazel that he would not be needing his body anymore, so he left it lying on the edge of the ditch, but stopped for a moment to watch his rabbits and to try to get used to the extraordinary feeling that strength and speed were flowing inexhaustibly out of him into their sleek young bodies and healthy senses.
“You needn’t worry about them,” said his companion. “They’ll be alright – and thousands like them. If you’ll come along, I’ll show you what I mean”.
He reached the top of the bank in a single, powerful leap. Hazel followed; and together they slipped away, running easily down through the wood, where he first primroses were beginning to bloom.
Richard Adams, “Watership Down”
Fell down upon the realm of man
On a scorned mound
We erect another monolith
Buckled under its own ego
Another pillar of content
Another milestone of man
Pity the weak
We cry out in laughter
As trees are felled
Pity the weak
How the mighty have fallen
We mock the roots
Parasitic ape;
Spills his black blood
Blotting out the sun
Wither to sallow flesh
Pity the weak
We cry out in laughter
As trees are felled
Pity the weak
How the mighty have fallen
We mock the roots
Saplings writhe where man is idle
An imperfect genocide
Erected upon weakened ground
Finally gave way
Toppled down
Toppled down
For those who have lost a pet, I’m here. I understand. Don’t let anyone tell you that your loss is “just” an animal. I love Bunnicula more than I have loved many human beings in my life and I would gladly trade the lives of many humans for just a few more days with her. Our animals become family, the bonds are sacred. I bleed for my animals, I live and die for them. And while I am here crying, paralyzed with grief that numbs my hands, I am quite certain she is out there, sexually violating El-Ahrairah and vying for her own position as the black rabbit of Inle.
For Bunnicula we THRASH!!!
September 5, 2008 – February 15, 2016