That funky Tut.

If you were not a watcher of the Shazam!/Isis hour, then you may be wondering who that is in the photo at the upper right. No, no, not the GODDESS with the long hair: if you didn't figure THAT out, then there is no hope for you. I mean the other one. On my arm.

This, my friends, is Tut.


Here is the way Tut looks when she is not in costume:

Tut has not gotten that much attention over at Fury, what with all the discussions of Jacques Monod. But that is OK with Tut, because, she has a lot more dignity than to go around quoting from Glengarry, Glen Ross. She does not get up right in your face and diss you. She does not whine like an idiot when canned food bowls are clinked together.

Here is the kind of thing Jacques Monod would do:

Tut would not do that.

At an earlier time in her life, Tut was the first mate on the good ship High Bough. During her adolescence she wrote moody poems and was known to stalk around the house quoting from Hamlet's soliloquies. She was a big fan of The Cure. She once explained to me that she wore black on the outside because black was how she felt on the inside. And then she'd add that she is feline and she needs to be loved, just like everybody else does.

Ever since she took on this alter-ego, however, she has felt much less angst. She feels that this time of her life is so much richer, so much more well adjusted. Now she would remind you that a tail is nothing but a long booty. And when she says things like that, how can you help but ask, "How'd you get so funky?"

There is no answer to that, but perhaps you'll join me in a little hymn to the praises of Tut?

Dancing by the Nile,
(Disco dancing)
The ladies love his style.
(Boss Tut)
Rockin' for a mile,
(Rockin' Tut)