Mole Spotting

As in any family, there are over 27,000 photographs of the Mole Brothers in their natural habitat.  What is perhaps unique to the Brothers is that all 27,000 of the images are catalogued and filed by name, date, place and dozens of other data points.  It's a little known fact that the Mole  Brothers have been the subjects of one of the most tireless longitudinal research studies in history, conducted by that most objective of scientists:  their father.  Curiously, while their lives have been recorded in excruciating detail, he remains the most elusive of subjects.  Infrequently,  he appears as a shadow in one of his photographs.  Sometimes his battered, tan stetson can be glimpsed over the top of the car (his wife infrequently assisting him in his Herculean efforts).  Today, Luristoplier and Cozi would like to salute this titan of the documentary arts, by offering up two samples from his encyclopedic collection.

LEFT:  Luristoplier and Cozy at Cape Cod (date unknown, probably late '90's or early '00's)

RIGHT:  Luristoplier (5) and Cozy (2) gamboling in some sort of wooded environment with unknown molebearer in the background (possibly the maternal caregiver, 1968).

The Phantom!

Today Luristoplier bought a new bike.  He is so in love with his bike that he had to post a picture of it to his blog.  He went on the trails today with it, and celebrated his new acquisition with twelve miles of glorious fall colors, cool fresh air and a tingling sensation in his derriere (thanks in part to Chamois Butt-er, don't ask).

His daughter suggested he name it.  After a brief deliberation, he named it after his favorite haunt:  The Phantom.

The Luristoplian Method of Tie Tying

The old Mole stood before the cracked mirror with his dewy-eyed son beside him, and said "Son, this is how you tie the Windsor Knot."  The small brown mole-child had watched his father tie such a knot every day before going off to General Electric, without knowing it had a name, much less such an aristocratic one.  He swore that, when he grew up and worked at a huge, soul-less firm like General Electric, he too would fasten his tie with the ancient knot of the Windsors.

Years passed, and the child grew into adult-hood.  His career rarely... no... never required that he wear a tie.  He spent his days painting pictures in rumpled, spattered sweat pants.  But every once in a while, he would go to a wedding, or an opera, or Thanksgiving dinner at his grandparents' retirement home (coat and tie required), and he would cast back in his mind to those hazy days when he stood by the mirror and watched his father tie the Windsor.

This is his approximation of that famous knot.

McCain Thinks We're All Racist, Too

YouTube - McCain Accidentally Agrees with Murtha

Unlike the politically disinterested Cozi, Luristoplier is a ferociously liberal, partisan creature, and will post his diatribes here occasionally.  For now, he has chosen simply to share this delicious YouTube bon-bon.  It features John McCain responding to a statement by Pennsylvania representative John Murtha that western Pennsylvania (Luristoplier's stomping ground), is a racist stronghold.   

Brüderlings

Look into their eyes.  Can you see it, glimmering?  That mysterious compulsion to climb out of their natural environment, into some wider, brighter world?  Lesser minds see only the blindness of the furry rodent, missing the courage, the daring, and the willingness to rise to greater things.

Luristoplier (left), Cozi (right)

Wham!

Tom Wham games could not be overplayed. We tore the cardboard stock maps gleefully from the innards of the newest DRAGON magazine, carefully cut apart the chits, then played them until they began to fray.
Oh, but in the next step lay true our genius. In our impatience we could not wait for the next game; our young minds abuzz with late nights, sprite and hormones, we modified our worn and well-loved games. Witness above, several of the original "arms" chits from Tom Wham's Search for the Emperor's Treasure, alongside several of our modified chits. Truly, genius work.

Chip the Glasses

A placemat, created for the Maulwerf family dinner table, sometime in the late 1970's (precise date unknown).  Attributed to Bro. Luristoplier, due to the characteristically strange rendering of the dwarves' knees.  Pencil on paper (laminated).

The Shadowy Past

It was in the hazy, drug-filled atmosphere of the mid-1980's that the Mole Brothers first found their voice.  It was the voice of the poet.  Of the artist.  Of the finger-snapping hipster.  From deep beneath the loamy turf, the brothers rose, like Megalon and Baragon, their tiny eyes glistening with the hot moisture of imagination.

Their reign over the artistic community was short, but their influence so great that the masses rose as one to demand their ouster:  "Voices will never be free until the Mole Brothers are tossed out!"  The howls came from all sides... the baying of the mindless mob.

Fearless, the brothers raised their bewhiskered snouts in disdain.  Never would their voices be stilled.  Were they martyred, they knew, their thin, reedy cries would echo down the ages.

A legend was born.

Earthy Cheeks

So it is, with earthy cheeks, that we push ourselves out of the earth. If just for a moment. Who says we can't see? I can dimly see the sun through my squinty eyes. My teeth are huge. If I burrow, it is because I choose to do so. Perhaps I will instead run across the surface of the earth. My eyes will adjust. And my teeth are huge. Huge!