Why Monsters are Awesome.
If you say you don’t dig monsters, you’re a liar and I’m against you.
There, I said it.
I like monsters. I think they’re rad. I would apologize for going all Napoleon Dynamite on your ass, but I won’t.
Don’t front, you love monsters, too.
I have a budding interest in The Jersey Devil. Instead of “Your Dad’s gonna paddle your little butt!” as a threat from my Gramma who hails from Edison, New Jersey, she really could 
have altered my behavior had she said “If you don’t go to sleep The Jersey Devil’s gonna suck out your soul.”
Of course, this thing has had multiple eye-witness accounts over the years and a hellish back story of a lady so traumatized with labor pains she yelled “The Devil can have this one!” thus spawning a demon who’s said to lurk around the Turnpike.
The Jersey devil is said to be blue, have fangs, wings and a wicked tail….
Save for the wings, the I think it sounds like 
a ringer for this guy:
This thing —->
actually washed up on a beach in New York a couple of months ago, and has thus been dubbed “The Montauk Monster.”
Anything that unpleasant showing up and ruining someone’s vacation is pretty cool in my book (sorry P.Smiffy, I know you love you some Montauk.) Be damned any explanations for this bloated, blue, evil looking thing, in my heart this will always be The Jersey Devil who tragically was roofied to death while vacationing in The Hamptons.
I’ve got love for The Jersey Devil, but since his tragic passing in Montauk summer 2008 he has been retired as my favorite Monster of North America. North America has so few monsters, really. We’ve got Big Foot, but who really cares since his last debauchle. We’ve got ol’ dead Jersey D. and we’ ve got totally bogus shit like Champy. There’s not much else in the North American Monster category that appeals to me…save for maybe The Moth Man.
I have to be careful about how deep I dig into this one while I’m sitting in front of the keyboard in the middle of the night ALONE. I have a lot of reasons why this dude gives me the willies and not-a-one of them has to do with that Richard Gere movie.
In the odd twists and turns in my life, I have spoke at length with two level headed men who have had Mothman encounters, even before the media hype.
Do I believe in the Mothman? I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him think I believe! Do I believe that the people who told me these stories saw something/someone who scared them straight into their bones precluding a disaster?
Absolutely.
Mothman, you’ve got clout, but you’ve got no kind of hold on this lady…unless I think too much about it.
Back to lame things like Champy…
Champy. I’ve spent more than my fair share of time in Illinois, the thought that a dinosaur lives in a lake there is ridiculous. It’s cold, its grey and there’s a lack of wild life or vegetation which could sustain such a creature. A dinosaur living in The Congo, though. That’s something I’ll buy into.
Mokele Mbembe is a dinosaur who hangs out in the river ‘round The Congo. 
People say it’s there, and I want to blindly follow them. I first heard of Mokele Mbembe when I was probably around seven years old. It was great because the token scientist asked to weigh in on this documentary said “Could there be a monster in The Loch Ness? Very, very unlikely. Could there be a monster in Lake Champlain? I would doubt it. Could there be a prehistoric giant reptile in The Congo? Well there certainly could be.”
All the validation I needed.
The thing that really blows my mind about monsters is even if they aren’t real, someone actually took the time to pull together these images and stories to sketch out these beasts. Humans are amazing in their fabrication and details. Someone had a big mouth and an amazing imagination…that’s almost as cool as sunbathing with the Jersey Devil.
