Lydia Slater, only 17, made headlines all across "Small but Proud" Armona, California with the publication "The Conscious Lizards," a borderline paranoid account of practices by the lizards in her house. The 25-page report included summaries of rituals such as pilgrimages to the house, late-night candlelit ceremonies, and theft of household items; photos of damage to the house by these critters; and a comprehensive field journal of various types of evidence. Charmingly described by the <i>Hanford Sentinel</i> as "[expletive deleted] insane," she is here today to discuss the publication.
Hannah Craig: So. You're the crazy lizard chick.
Lydia Slater: I suppose that is my title now.
Craig: That can't come as a surprise, right? I mean, I read that thing. You're talking about lizards coming in and <i>hiding your backpack in a piano. </i> That's not <i>physically possible. </i>
Slater: They possess mind powers.
Craig: Mind powers?
Slater: They are highly evolved lizards.
<i>(I took a moment of silence to fully appreciate this little factoid.) </i>
Craig: Well. Yes. I think we can all go and read the book on our own time, so why don't we learn a little more about <i>you</i>. When did the telekinetic lizards first come to your attention?
Slater: The summer before my investigation, I was tortured by mosquitoes every night. Three, five, ten bites a night. It was unbearable. And so I journeyed to REI and purchased the most effective mosquito net I could find.
Craig: What about <i>shutting your door?</i> Do the mosquitoes have mind powers too?
Slater: I've detailed no conclusive evidence, but it's certainly a possibility.
Craig: Intriguing. But the lizards?
Slater: As it would happen, I am not the most construction-minded person on the planet, and I wasn't completely sure of the mechanics of such fickle devices as hammers, so I tried to staple the net into stability. But instead I glued the stapler to my ceiling.
Craig: You tried to <i>glue</i> a mosquito net to your <i>ceiling? </i>
Slater: No, I attempted to staple the net to my ceiling.
Craig: Where did the glue come from?
Slater: I think the wall, maybe.
Craig: You have glue-secreting walls?
Slater: Did you not read that in the report? It's an essential component of the lizards' wall-walking abilities.
Craig: <i>Why </i>do you have glue-secreting walls?
Slater: Our house is old.
Craig: My house is old, too. I have leaded water and an imploded bathroom. I <i>don't</i> have <i>glue-secreting</i> walls.
Slater: This isn't the focus of the interview, is it?
Craig: The focus of this interview is to mock stupid people. This is perfect.
Slater: Oh.
Craig: Your story isn't done, is it? You haven't even mentioned lizards.
Slater: Well, after gluing the stapler to my ceiling, I decided to utilize the hammer. Unfortunately, this ended in six-inch hole in my wall.
<i>(There was a pause as I tried to imagine how one could possibly fail this incredibly.)</i>
Craig: You know you're supposed to hammer the <i> nails, </i> not the <i> wall, </i> right?
Slater: They don't really make that clear in the instructions.
<i>(There was another pause as I tried to imagine how one could possibly be stupid enough to do the things in my imagination.)</i>
Slater: Anyway, when we redid the ceiling-
Craig: I thought the hole was in your wall?
Slater: My family isn't very construction-minded, either.
Craig: Your family isn't very good at recognizing where holes are in your house?
Slater: Evidentially.
craig: That's…not a <i>skill.</i> That's just…being able to <i>see.</i>
Slater: I don't know. But when we redid the ceiling, I discovered lizard tracks and little holes up there. And the night after we finished, the stapler was gone. I looked down the hole, and, seeing lizards in there, I started paying attention. I started noticing that there were a lot of dead lizards in my room, especially near my pillow.
Craig: You <i>started</i> noticing there were dead lizards in your bed?
Slater: Yeah.
Craig: You mean they were there before and you<i> didn't </i>notice?
Slater: Well, sometimes. But I had failed to notice any patterns. This was when I began recording the number of lizards in my room each day compared to the disappearance of my objects. When graphed, there was a definite correlation.
Craig: So…when objects go missing in your house…your first thought is, "The lizards are building civilizations in my walls?"
Slater: Graphs are never wrong, Ms. Craig.
<i>(It was difficult to maintain the semblance of a legitimate interview at this point, but I tried my best.) </i>
Craig: What about those journal entries? What in God's good name could have convinced you that a worthwhile summer activity would be sitting in front of your door recording hours of minute-by-minute observations of tiny reptiles in your backyard?
Slater: I don't have a lot of friends.
Craig: This sounds like a bit of a chicken-and-egg scenario to me.
Slater: Well, at first, I only watched them in the afternoon for a few hours at a time, but in July I was awakened early in the morn by a mysterious humming noise.
Craig: I'm 99% sure lizards don't hum.
Slater: The humming was my air conditioner, actually. But once I was awake, I went to look at my window, and I saw lights in my backyard. I crept outside to investigate, and I saw eight solar-powered flameless candles in a circle, with a lizard next to them.
Craig: Were you…<i> missing</i> the candles?
Slater: Usually they're in a line.
Craig: Well, that's damning evidence if I've ever seen it.
Slater: Maybe to you, but in Advanced Placement we're taught more scientific rigor than that. It was then that I determined nothing was as important as a comprehensive report on the behavior of these strange creatures.
Craig: Oh. Yes. It was<i> brimming </i>with scientific rigor.
Slater: Are you being facetious?
Craig: Is that the Advanced Placement word for 'dripping with sarcasm?'
Slater: You have terrible interview questions.
Craig: Oh, we're just getting started. Why don't we get to talking about that "Lizard Religion" you had going on there, huh?
Slater: That was my favorite chapter.
Craig: I tried. I swear to the God of Sarcasm, I tried. There was no way that was ever going to make sense.
Slater: Really? I didn't think it was excruciatingly complicated.
Craig: It was more excruciatingly insane than complicated.
Slater: Well, the basic tenant of the religion is the household as a kind of "Holy Land." Judging by the incredibly high number of dead lizards found in my room, I theorized the majority of dying lizards made a kind of "final pilgrimage" to my bed. Lizards that could not make this pilgrimage were seen being carried there by compatriots.
<i>(I would like to note repetition does not make these things sound less insane.)</i>
Craig: Are you calling yourself a…Lizard God?
Slater: I don't believe any such terms adequately describe this religion.
Craig: Trust me, I can think of <i>plenty</i> of terms that adequately describe this religion.
Slater: I don't like your terms.
Craig: I don't like your religion.
Slater: It's not <i>my</i> religion. It's the <i>lizard</i> religion. And I don't like it either! You know how many necklaces I've lost to the Worshippings of the Shiny Things?
Craig: It can't be more than the number of brain cells I've lost from this interview.
Slater: I'm sorry.
Craig: One more question. Now, about the hypnotic abilities…
Slater: Yes?
Craig: The <i>hell?</i>
<i>(There was a moment as the interviewee attempted to make sense of this epithet.) </i>
Slater: That's…that's not a question.
Craig: My mind wouldn't entertain the idea long enough to form a question about it.
Slater: Then…why are you bringing it up?
Craig: It entertained the idea long enough to make sarcastic comments about it.
Slater: Oh.
Craig: I think we're done here.
Slater: Okay.
Craig: You're insane, you know that?
Slater: Yes.
Craig: And a waste of time?
Slater: Probably.
Craig: A waste of <i> oxygen. </i>
Slater: I know.
Craig: Get out.
<i> This concludes the long awaited Sarcastic Interview #1. </i>