Unicorn in Ascent

As introduced here a month or two ago, Mountain Man Dance Moves is making the rounds, picking up the press, impressing the ladies. The McSweeney's Book of Lists was released in September, with a steady rise in Amazon ranking since then (from the 15,000 range to the 1500 range). There was notice of it in the The New York Times - more like an extended blurb than a small review; and not even in the Book section; and I can't access it or link to it now because I forgot my NYT password; but good either way - and then John Warner (web editor and, again, head of the Senate Armed Forces Committee) did an interview on NPR's Day to Day. Not to mention a compelling review from Flak Magazine that says it is "the most energy efficient" book written this year. Funny, all.

Even so: I think the bigger lesson of the rising success of the collection says more about a growing love of unicorns than anything else. Because who isn't into unicorns these days? I can tell you who isn't: nobody. Nobody isn't.

I first became enchanted with unicorns when I was 9, alone with my thoughts, and comforted by wood fairies, nymphs, and a certain horned horse-like animal I came to call Delilah. Delilah and I spent many a good time together, fighting the ills of society with our imaginations, prancing through wooded meadows and verdant fields and sun-beamed wooded edge areas, me clutching her gilded necklace, she batting what seemed like mystical magical eyelashes. We were always emerging from some shadowy place, always into a lighted area, always smiling and encouraged and ready to take on the world of the real. You can see us at the edge of the woods, looking to each other, giving a knowing nod, and then steadying for our entrance into the world. It's a Neverending Story kind of imagery. Our soundtrack was full of light string sonatas, our smiles broad enough to conquer those mean people. Oh Delilah. My first unicorn friend. We would rid this fair world of the mean people, wouldn't we? Yes, we would. We would.

Delilah didn't make it though. Delilah was taken from this earth soon after those days. Those hours. That thirty second daydream I think I'm remembering more or less correctly. Or did it even ever happen?

Who knows with Delilah, fair unicorn maiden. She was crushed by a semi. She should've looked both ways. I told her to. She wasn't so bright.

I'll offer a non-unicorn list, then, one you can use to wipe the tears of sadness for our lost Delilah from your cheek.

This one is: