Philosophy Pheline Stylee

Can't really think of anything much I want to blog about this time, so I think I'll bore you all with stuff about Marx and Engels, who may be better known as 19th century socialist philosophers, but are actually my cats, so named in the hope of irritating my middle-class neighbours in my old place, although this turned out to be a waste of time. Most people just say 'don't you mean Marx and Spencer' or 'who, what?' I just don't know what they teach kids in schools these days, but the social and economic history of the industrial revolution clearly isn't part of it. I have just attempted to attach photos of these guys, but I think the tech has defeated me, and I am not sure how to check that the attachments have actually attached if you see what I mean, as they are not apparent in the preview...

Anyway, if you have the pics, Marx is the black and white one and Engels is the very dark brown one. I had them as kittens just over a year ago in order to deal with a mouse problem in my old flat. They are brothers from the same litter, and constantly amaze me with how different thier personalities are, taking into account that they have never been separated since birth, and thier environment and life experiences have been identical, so this may be of some interest to anyone whose life involves them in a 'nature v nurture' argument.

Now of course these guys are cats, not humans, and there is a limit to how much one can anthropomorphise them, but they have obvious personalities nonetheless. Marx is small, wiry and quite muscular; I regard him as the fitter of the two, though this is without any objective or scientific backing, just my impression. He is the more adventurous, 'laddish' character of the two, a bit of a scruff by cat standards, though I do not feel myself in a position to be judgememntal about this sort of thing. He tends to regard my place as a hotel providing him with food and a place to sleep when he is tired of adventuring (I should point out that both are neutered, so it isn't that sort of behaviour; if I'm not getting any, I don't see why they should), although he is spending a little more time at home in the day over the last few weeks.

Engels is plump, sleek, lazy and affectionate. Paradoxically, he is noticeably the better climber of the pair, and sleeps at the foot of my bed every night making himself a useful winter footwarmer, something his brother would never condescend to doing1 He is a sly and intelligent little sod, who worked out that, if he mewed at the patio door to go out, I would open it for him and Marx would go bounding out of the flat with considerable enthusiasm, leaving E to refuse to go-and having all the food to himself! This sounds like deductive reasoning to me, and it took me some time to wise up to the ruse. He is also by far the more vociferous, engaging in long and involoved discussion with me about fuck knows what, and telling Marx off when he comes in late-I wish I spoke cat... M very rarely says anything, and in fact for his first 6 months of life I thought he might be dumb.

I no longer have a mouse issue, and the pair are really nothing but a drein on my resources in terms of cat food and litter. I wouldn't be without them though; they are a constant supply of amusemnt and affection, items not unwanted in this particular sad old git's life.