A Nameless Blog

Born in Chad, Jerry the Giraffe has lived in the Phoenix Zoo since 2006.  The sky-high ungulate became an international phenomenon in 2009 when it was discovered that he could speak fluent English.  Since then, he has written essays for The New Yorker, entertained dignitaries, and just completed production on his first hip-hop album, Captive Necker.  Jerry sat down with A Nameless Blog to discuss his public life, giraffe mating habits, and why okapi annoy him.

Darrell: You titled your first foray into popular music Captive Necker.  Being a zoo animal, the “captive” part is obvious, but what exactly is a “necker”?

Jerry: Ah, a leading question to start.  You’ve done this before.  [Laughs.]  A “necker”, aside from the obvious, uh, soundalike, refers to giraffes’ favorite pastime of necking.  We do it a lot, and for a lot of reasons.  Dudes do it to establish dominance and earn the right to sniff some piss [Ed. Note: Male giraffes seek mates by tasting and smelling females' urine for estrus].  Sometimes it’s part of courtship; you know, [to] get us in the mood.  Sometimes we do it just ’cause we’re bored.  It’s like your [ritual of] dancing — it serves a lot of purposes, but most of them involve sex.

D: Speaking of sex, I understand that in the wild, it’s quite competitive, to the point that only a few males are lucky enough to procreate with a large group of females.  Has that been the case in your life?

J: Oh fuck yes.  I keep my neck stretched and strong every day in case I get challenged.  You think smarts have anything to do with sex?  Yeah, I’m the only talking giraffe I know, but that doesn’t do shit — it’s this weapon you call a skull that does all the talking.  Sure, I haven’t had any trouble getting poon, but it’s dog-eat-dog; most guys aren’t so fortunate.

D: I understand that a lot of those unfortunate guys end up with each other.

J: Yeah, we’ll fuck anything.  I’ll always choose a good-smelling lady over anything, but sometimes — especially in the wild — a dude will do.  I’d say at least 80% of giraffe sex is male-male.  Some of the guys go all-out with it, turning a necking contest into a fucked-up cuddlefuck, hanging around each other all the time, nuzzling each other…  [Shudders.]  They’re proof that some giraffes don’t deserve to pass on their genes.

D: It seems that sometimes this competition turns violent.  In one track of your album [Track five: "Red Savanna"] you describe a deadly necking contest in full, disturbing detail.  How do you think the public will react to such honesty?

J: I just wanted people to know how hard a it is to be a giraffe.  People think we’re weird, or cuddly, or that we sell motherfucking children’s toys.  That’s bullshit — if you want to thrive as a giraffe, you gotta be hard.  Sometimes fuckers end up dead.  In my case, I hit a guy the wrong way.  I caught him below the ear with my horn, cracked his neck, and that was it.  He should have known not to compete — he was a lot smaller than me, but he initiated the challenge.  Must’ve been tired of all the dude-fucking.  It’s fun, but too much can frustrate you.  [The competitor's death] wasn’t intentional, but I don’t regret it for a second.

D: Do you miss living in the wild, or do you take comfort in the fact that life won’t be so violent anymore?

J: I dunno, man, I just wanna talk about my album.

D: All right, I apologize; in your album, you talk a lot about the transition from wildlife to zoo life.  It seems like a topic you’d like people to know about.

J: Yeah, yeah… I mean, the album just speaks for itself.  I don’t want to step on that.  But you’re right, living in a zoo is pretty different.  It’s really comfortable, and the tail they brought for me has been top-notch.  It’s the lap of luxury.  At the same time, I feel like I’m losing my roots.  Even my name isn’t my own — these zoo fuckers named me Jerry because you people love alliteration.  My real name is hee-pfft, but that can’t be pronounced in English, so I guess I shouldn’t get too pissed off.

D: I noticed you had an entire track devoted to your distaste of okapi.  Are you worried that such outright bigotry might translate to bad press or lower album sales?

J: Man, fuck okapi.  I don’t give a fuck about bad press — I’m a talking giraffe in a zoo.  I’m invincible.  If you don’t like my shit, don’t listen to it.  But really, fuck okapi.

D: Why?

J: You fuckin’ humans put us right next to those zebroid cunts.  They’re ugly freaks with short necks and stubby legs, and somehow you say they’re our closest relative?  Giraffes are graceful and intelligent marvels of evolution.  Okapi are rude, ugly zebras that eat dirt. [Many okapi are known to eat clay found in riverbeds]

D: Forgive my ignorance, but how are they rude?

J: They just are.  Got no manners.  Like, I’m eating some leaves one day and this okapi keeps sidling up to me, horning in on my goddamn tree.  The thing is, this fucker can’t reach the leaves, so he’s clearly just up in my shit to be up in my shit.  Stupid motherfucker wouldn’t leave me alone.  So I kick him out of the way — not real hard, not hard enough to break a bone.  Just a warning.  Guess what the asshole does — he spits cud at me!  He tried to reach my face, but only got about a quarter of the way up my neck.  I stepped to kick him again, this time for real, but he ran off.  That’s not the only time shit like that happens with okapi.  They’re bad news.  Man, you got me ramblin’.  Let’s get back to the album.

D: Fair enough.  What was it like collaborating with so many top artists on this album?

J: It was sweet.  I gotta say, being a talking giraffe opens doors I never thought would open.  Everyone I worked with was amazing.  [Dr.] Dre is the man — he can make a giraffe make sounds I never heard before.  Shit, Danger Mouse is the smartest guy I know, Erykah Badu is really nice… I can’t go naming everybody, though.  Everyone was fuckin’ outstanding.

D: One interesting choice was your invitation to Scarlett Johansson to do backing vocals for a few songs.  She has a limited musical career, so many were surprised by her addition.  How did she work out?

J: I know what you want me to say.  Something about her tits, right?  I’m a giraffe, asshole.  I don’t care about that.  I just listened to her album of Tom Waits covers and I realized, yeah, Tom Waits is brilliant, but he’d be so much better if he had a smoother voice.  All you media fuckers were too hard on Scarlett — she brought it down then, and she brought it down for the Necker.

D: Any plans for the future?

J: Probably some more albums.  I made a deal with The New Yorker to keep writing essays for them, so that’ll be good.  I’m also starting a charity to help find other talking giraffes, encourage them to communicate in the human world the way I have.  As much as you fuckers get on my nerves, I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for humanity.

-Darrell

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