Page Three
The Year in Review
the monkeys as the ground fell away beneath them.    A nasty skirmish marred the otherwise peaceful and forested landscape of El Samole in July when WHITE-TOED MUSCATELS and HUMPBACKED MACAROONS began fighting over that nation's rapidly-shrinking supply of zazu fruit.  The fruit of the zazu bush was recently found to have a palliative effect with regard to Prawn's disease and is now in great demand worldwide.  And speaking of shrinking, Caracador is, and it is projected that by the year 2120, most of their resident HOPPING HOWLERS will have to move to Gorgonzola. August broke over most tropical regions with its usual heat and humidity, and the muddy Horntoad River dried up almost completely.
      In September the giant space primate that has been heading toward the Earth was found to be still heading toward the Earth, and Dr. Basil Smith of the Chudleigh-Lilydale Royal Tasmanian Primatological Observatory announced that he is convinced that it is up to no good.  No information has been released as to when the huge space-dwelling creature will get here.  Dr. Strathaven Aberdeen of the Dundee Scottish Monkey Institute startled the primatological world in October when he revealed that he believes the Loch Ness Monster to be a form of aquatic primate, similar to those in Lake Badongo.  He is now under observation at Glasgow Psychiatric Hospital.
      WEEPING GUENONS lost their specific status in November because of a general reorganization in taxonomy. They are now considered to be a sub- species of RUBBERNECK GUENONS. When this change was announced there was to no one's great surprise much weeping and not a little gnashing of guenon teeth.  Chris Shaw's latest book, Primates and Primate Newspapers, was published in early December to generally poor reviews, and he stated in an interview with the Hellmouth Star Ledger and Daily Chronicle that he would be taking a break from writing for at least a week.
     In summary, we can only say that things are bad and getting worse, so from all of us here at the New Primate Nooz to all of you out there, we wish you Happy Foraging in 2002.

      Well, it was another bad year.  People all over the world continued to mourn the absence of the Primate Nooz, the distinguished primatologist Dr. Hermann T. Beauvais was killed in a research accident in southern Taiwan, gobo roots were found to cause apoplexy in some men between 29 and 31 years of age, Santa Rubia Island resurfaced briefly but sank again, and an abominable primate escaped from Boris's Animal Circus, but aside from that it has not been much better.
      2001 began on somewhat of a sour note in January when Sylvia the Psychic Simian predicted that before the year was over, the Malagasy Extinct Lemur Society would have three new members, but she stubbornly refused to reveal who they might be.  In February, Jujube cancelled the 25th International Plummeting Competition after a GREAT HORNED GIBBON and a BLACK-EYED TAMARIN collided in mid-air while dropping from the top of a giant blue greasewood tree.  They are currently recuperating at the Plummeting Injury Rehabilitation Center in Kijani.
      March was a surprisingly cold month and primates from Togobogo to Cheesequake shivered.  An emergency shipment of overcoats to the Tabora Highlands region of Tanzania was accidentally dropped overboard in Lake Victoria and could not be recovered.  Eric Scotmeister Fleiglehaus was fired in April as the Travel editor of Chimp Digest and went to work at a considerably reduced salary as an apprentice paper flattener for Automotive Primatology Magazine.
       Hellmouth Small Appliance Repair was the victim in May of an unfortunate occurrence when Bill Measely's hydrogen laser spotlight, which they have been keeping in storage in a back room since 1993, suddenly came to life and swung around without warning, sending out hot 1250° beams that destroyed a number of color washers and gas scanners.  The Morongoro Crater in Badongo-Gazimbi collapsed like a giant sinkhole in June, taking with it an entire population of MORONGORO CRATER BROWN MACAQUES.  Researchers on the rim of the crater said they could hear the frantic chattering of

By Eric Scotmeister Fleiglehaus
Greetings from Jabalpur!  You probably don't even know where Japalpur is, but that doesn't matter since I do, and I'm here.  So sit back in your favorite chair, kick off your shoes, grab a Guinness and enjoy, because this is my.....“Report from the Field.”
      When I heard that Primate Nooz was going to resume publication, I e-mailed Mr. Kashihara Takeshitahara, new owner of the Nooz, whose brother Takeshi was a colleague of mine before being lost in a whirlpool, and he suggested that I reprise my old column and do a “Report from the Field” about Dr. Poon Sanddandtundra, the eminent Indian.  I immediately resigned my position at Automotive Primatology Magazine, cancelled my next Monkey Mechanics seminar at Sigsbee Junior Night College, gave my cat to a friend, turned off the gas in my apartment, and reserved a seat on the next flight to New Delhi.
      That was last week.  I arrived here on Tuesday at the Jabalpur National Bluetongue Macaque Reservation along the silt-filled Ghaghra River in the dusty state of Uttar Pradesh in northern India, and I've been hard at work writing my “Report” ever since.  The new car provided me in New Delhi by the Takeshitahara Corp. worked out fine, and I had no mechanical difficulties whatsoever.  Quite a change for me, I must say.  Unfortunately, it was stolen by a gang of Untouchables while I was shopping for hair gel in Sardarshahr, and I was forced to travel the rest of the way by canoe along a series of rivers, first the mighty Firozabad, then the blackwater Muzaffarnagar, then the Ganjapur and the Chindwara, the smaller Raipatna and Indore and Modasa, and finally the Ghaghra, by which time I was thoroughly sick of rivers and canoes and India in general.  But when I did finally arrive at the whitewashed wooden front gates of Jabalpur, I was sure glad I had come because Dr. Poon Sanddandtundra was waiting for me with a broad smile and a large glass of warm Nepalese brandy.  Several dozen children raced out of the house and toted my suitcases into one of the guest bungalows, laughing and shrieking, while Dr. Sanddandtundra walked me around the compound.  After a delicious dinner of toor dal, chickpeas, palak alu and bhindi tamatar, with some excellent peach-mango ice cream for dessert, it was off to a comfortable bed and my first good night's sleep in several days.
      On Tuesday night, monsoon rains fell across Uttar Pradesh and the Ghaghra River overflowed its banks and flooded the compound.  Dr. Sanddandtundra quickly evacuated all the personnel, but somehow he forgot about me.  I woke up Wednesday afternoon to find everyone gone, and everything except my bungalow underwater. Fortunately, there was some naan and mango chutney in the cooling box, and I nibbled on that while working on my “Report,” wondering what exciting things Dr. Sandandtundra would tell me when he returned.  Would I hear about the bluetongue macaques?   The giant monkeys he found years ago north of Nepal?   The pouched langurs he kept as pets when he was a child?  Abominable primates and his relationship with Uzman Shakhrisyabz?      
      By Friday, the naan was beginning to run out, and I was feeling a bit peckish.  I managed to swim across the compound to a little supply hut that had emerged from the receding waters and found some cans of spicy lizard koorma and a few water-logged boxes of powdered yoghurt.  My “Report” was going well, so I took the rest of the afternoon off and rigged a crude hammock in the upper branches of some dwarf Nizamabad trees.  I lay there listening to the sibilant sighs of several greater Indian mongooses in the forest as the sun slowly sank in the west.  Dr. Sanddandtundra returned the next morning but was busy all day cleaning up the mess.  He promised to spare me a few minutes to tell me about his work at the Reservation and his discoveries north of Nepal, but after several brandies he fell asleep on the front porch of his house and didn't recover until I was getting ready to leave on Sunday.  I had very much wanted to find out something about him so as not to disappoint my new superiors at the Takeshitahara Corporation, but the canoe was about to depart and I had many rivers to traverse before filing my “Report.”
      That's about it for this issue.  I wish it hadn't rained, but those are the breaks, right?   Remember what I used to say?  Nothing in life is easy.  Anyway, next time, if the Takeshitahara Corporation will get me another car, I'll try to get to the Abominable Primate Study Center for a chat with Dr. Uzman Shakhrisyabz. So until then, I'll just say, “So long.”
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