What is it with pandas? Why are they so unfeasibly adorable? Why do we love them so much, when they seem to be genetically predisposed to their own utter oblivion? (Pandas are all impotent, and they lie on their backs 19 hours a day only to get up, eat bamboo that they can’t actually digest, have a fag and go back to sleep… Fact…)
Maybe it’s because I was given one on the day I was born – not a real one you understand, that would be absurd even in my family circles – but, because I had one from the start that saw me through my childhood (and even today is stowed away somewhere in a cupboard) that I have a peculiar emotional attachment to the fluffsters and sets of photos like these reduce me to being able to say little other than “Awwwwwwww” for stupid amounts of time. I’m a grown-up for christ’s sake…
There was a time when their precarious position in the equation of survival/extinction was symbolic in a very singular way of man’s relationship with nature. Sadly now there are hundreds of other species lining up to be the poster-boys of mass extinction. Not only have we largely failed those, like the panda, that needed the most obvious help – but we’ve managed to needlessly endanger thousands more. Idiots.