In all fairness to the artist and his/her vision—even if “vision” in this case was pulling a blank plaster unicorn off the shelf, and adding as much detail as the limited color selection and $5/hour fee would allow—I do scrounge the bric-a-brak shelves at the five-and-dim looking for things that aren’t actually suggestive. Unicorns, however, usually ARE suggestive and don’t need my help.
I think they use their image as innocent symbols of purity and nobility to sneak past our guard and rob us of childhood illusions. There’s a wonderful scene in “The Last Unicorn” where an angry, lived-a-hard-life woman–Molly Grue–finally sees her unicorn, and shouts “What good is it to me that you’re here now? Where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago?” Seeing this guy getting to work, I’m thinking the answer is “well, you were probably too old.”
Never trust your child with a unicorn. Particularly THIS unicorn. He wants you to believe an herbivore couldn’t possibly be a predator. More importantly, the higher-ups in the unicorn chain of command don’t want you to believe that, so they turn a blind eye, hope that people remember the legend and not the string of broken lives he leaves behind.
Don’t struggle, Timmy, I’m probably a lot faster than you. Now come on, kid, you’re going to be in folk songs.
Texas Thrift near I35 and 51st, Austin