Before 2023, I would have never considered myself an "animal person." I was no scrooge--I liked it when I saw cute dogs and cats pass me by on the street. But I wouldn't say I ever went out of my way to really look at them. My family didn't own many pets, and the only ones they did have were when I was very young, before I could really remember them. There was a dog at one point, a goldfish, even (foreshadowing) a bunny. But I don't especially remember much about them, let alone really being obsessed with them.
That changed with this picture:
I'm sure this emotional crash out over this animal I don't even own was a long time coming, created by a million paper cuts indented in a subconscious dam that finally burst with this last cut, but I do believe this picture has a lot of what would come to appeal to me about bunnies over the next year (and longer).
Tofu Animal
There's this bit in chapter two of Scott McCloud's groundbreaking visual essay Understanding Comics where McCloud lays out his dubious but obviously personally informed theory on the nature of cartoons:
In short, the simplicity and symbolic nature of the cartoon (as opposed to the detailed and complex nature of more realistic artstyles) allows the reader to project their own emotions onto the image, as they associate that gulf between symbol and reality with the distance between their own self-awareness and reality.
Now look at this:
Look at him. The sheer look of whatever it is on his face. Is this the face of a person deep in concentration? Someone sitting in a massage chair, half-watching the TV? Is it the face of a jilted lover walking in on their cheating spouse? Or a guy seconds before he accidentally craps his pants? Some people in the replies of the original tweet call the picture a "Facebook selfie of a 47-year-old uncle who barely knows how to use his phone." I look at it and bring to my mind a sound bite of Werner Herzog describing the sheer look of stupidity in a chicken's eyes. Whatever feeling you bring to the bunny, it's hard to deny that he exudes it tremendously. He fully embodies it.
Here is my theory. I think bunnies are some of the primest animals for emotional projection. If you know enough pop psychology, you know that part of what influences our affection for "cute things" is our evolution-built instinct to care for our children. It just so happens that some of that applies to animals. So, that leads to pet culture--it becomes normal for humans to adopt and tenderly care for small animals even though it provides no direct evolutionary benefit, just because they bring us so much joy. That leads to all sorts of additional products for these little critters, costumes and photoshoots, and most importantly, especially boosted by the dawn of the internet: plenty of space to project your own emotional feelings onto their faces.
So, all animals invite emotional projection? Well, yes, but not so fast. I believe that bunnies surpass other pets because of the cultural baggage people bring to them. If I told you to describe dogs and cats in one word, what would you say? Dogs, maybe "excited" or "loyal." Cats, maybe "prissy" or "judgmental." What could you say about bunnies that you think would apply to them?
They can get excited but they're also lazy. They can look derpy but have keen survival instincts. They have a high sex drive, but they also flop around on the floor and sleep. They're plump but they eat veggies. They invite so many different emotional approaches to them that their lack of defining personality ironically makes them the most expressive.
A simple change of lighting or scenery can make a bunny playful...
menacing...
stupid...
or tragic!
Some kind of conclusion
A few hours ago when I came up with the idea to make this page, I wrote down six, count 'em, six sections about different aspects of bunnies I love. And given the amount of time it took me to write two, frankly, I think I gotta cut myself off.
If I have time I'll include some of my favorite bunnies below, but for now I'll just say this: bunnies appeal to me because on paper they're contradictions.
They look like prey animals an artist would design for a fantasy world to be the most killable animal, but somehow they've survived up until now.
They look so stupid whenever you make direct eye contact, but they're very shrewd.
They're energetic and lazy.
They're expressionless and expressive.
They can rush around really joyfully, but they have permanent frowns.
They're cute without ever looking like they try to be.
