Los Angeles Times, April 8, 1888. Q: Do you know the difference between Bigfoot and bosh?
By the throbbing and undulant ‘roids of Cthulhu, could you bury the lede any frickin’ deeper here, sport? Whatever your critter is, it better be pretty scary after that protracted drum roll.
Hmm. Okay, not unimpressive as these unconfirmable cryptid thingies go: six feet tall; rotund; semi-hominid; quasi-ursine; hairier than a bar of soap in a frat-house shower stall, yet disturbingly clean-shaven up and down the inseams. That’s a decent monster who deviates from the cliches, and whom I wouldn’t care to meet in Dead Man’s Hole nor elsewhere.
Umkay, spooky enough. By now I’m more freaked out by the spelling of “canyon” as “canon” with a tilde over the “n.” Still, hirsutism + human face + shaven inseams + unnatural vertical agility in remote Californian box canyons does = some monstrous shit. Moving on:
Oh great: they killed some fleeing, deformed Indian hermit dude. Like life in Dead Man’s Hole wasn’t jolly enough for the poor bastard until our tourist adventurers came along.
But: I like it that the murderer here is named Cox, because actor Ronny Cox plays the most civilized, least murderously-inclined character in John Boorman’s awesome adaptation of James Dickey’s superb novel Deliverance.
I guess 400 pounds gives them an alibi for not presenting a body to the local coroner. But how did they conclude this was a hybrid? Couldn’t he have been the product of maternal impression? Suppose his mom had been terrorized by a catamount or grizzly bear? Never leave Occam’s razor behind on a hunting trip.
Dead Man’s Hole: pretty apt place name, all told.