what_normal_people_talk_about raze who knows? we're not normal. so let's talk about all the things we'd do if we were seventeen feet tall and capable of wingless flight. would we be jet-propelled, or would there be more mysterious forces at work? 130630 ... e_o_i Not quite. We'd have roll-up-able wings in our arms, like those old-fashioned screens and blinds that you'd, rather paradoxically, have to tug down in order to get them to roll up - they frustrated me as a child, I admit - except these wings roll up quite easily if you press the button on the tip of your nose. That is why people wouldn't kiss while flying - too dangerous. As well, we would also be propelled by farts from the bottom of our feet, and since these would be smelly we would seek a solitary existence out of a) the desire to avoid other smelly people or b) the shame of being smelly ourselves. And that would be sad, which is why I'd rather evolve into a fish. 130630 ... ovenbird I have literally no clue having never fallen into that category. In terms of what beautifully strange people talk about: I'm not sure I would want to be 17 feet tall. I think I'd prefer to be small, something that could live mostly unseen but for others of my own species who would know me completely. I like the flying part, though fart propulsion wouldn't be my choice, despite being a renewable resource. I'm thinking ladybug wings–something folded away and unexpected. Something that says–while I look whole I am, in fact, perpetually split open, though not broken. 260512 what's it to you? who go blather from