Three weeks of rioting in Paris, France have caused unknown damage to the hundreds of pet iguanas cherished by the city residents. Several pet shops in the 4th arrondissement are said to have been destroyed, although the type of animals is yet unknown.
Presumably they are a mix of many species—guinea pigs, tortoises, various fowl. Undoubtedly some iguanas were in the mix and by now have found their way to the Left Bank, or have hitched a ride up the Seine in one of those “mouche” boats.
It’s all reminiscent of the Paris Commune in 1871, when some of the zoo animals escaped, and others were eaten.
Yellow-jacketed rioters have also been seen in the Bastille district, near the popular and stylish Iguana Café (see picture).
It is often forgotten that in addition to being a World War Two combat ace, the first President Bush was very fond of iguanas. He and “Bar” raised them on their Texas ranch in their early oil days.
A surviving pair, Burt and Gert, even made it to the White House! They were both nearly five feet long by then, and a spare bathroom on the third floor of the Executive Mansion was given over for their exclusive use. When the weather was fine, they were allowed out to frolic on the South Lawn.
A hilarious two-thumbs-down review of 1988’s The Blue Iguana, by the late Roger Ebert (excerpt):
I have no idea why this movie was made. I have no notions of what the actors in it thought they were doing. I have no clues as to whether the writer-director, John Lafia, thought it was funny. I do not know why Paramount released it. I do know that they say if an iguana loses its tail, it can grow another one. I do not know, however, if that is true. Wouldn’t you think that in a movie named “The Blue Iguana,” in which nothing of interest happens for 90 minutes, they’d at least answer a few fundamental questions about iguanas? But the only iguana in this movie is a cigarette lighter.
ERRATUM: A previous edit stated that this film was directed by Bernardo Bertolucci. The late Mr. Bertolucci was not affiliated with this production.
For some reason, this smartphone capture of two males fighting, in a Starbucks parking lot in Florida, got a lot of following in England.
I don’t know what the story is here. I see both animals have dewlaps, so assumed it was two guys squaring off, as in the OK Corral. (A woman comments in the background that it’s a mating ritual. Umm—not quite!)
Afterwards they’ll probably have a few drinks together and shoot some pool down at the saloon.
This is just normal behavior. But people read all sorts of weird sociological subtexts to it. Like the iguanas are illegal aliens (which they are, in fact; these are escaped pets or their offspring). There is a small member of the iguana tribe native to Florida, but that is the anole, or “American chameleon,” the lizard you could buy for seventy-nine cents at Woolworth’s when I was a babe.
Does it sound like your idea of heaven? Then hie it on down to this place, wherever it is!
The scenic route took me through languid towns like Dzitbalché and Iturbide, and to beautiful, lonely ruins at Dzibilnocac and Hochob, elaborately carved in an architectural style known today as “Chenes,” which Mr. Suarez would later describe as “Maya Baroque.” About 25 miles before Campeche, I stopped at Edzná, whose carefully reconstructed galleries, pyramids and open plazas rival Calakmul’s in grandeur. A short distance from Hacienda Huayamon — Campeche’s most luxurious hotel, housed in the restored remains of an 18th-century plantation — Edzná is Campeche’s most popular archaeological site. Even still, on the day I visited, there were more iguanas than people. When I reached Campeche that evening, I settled in at the Hacienda Huayamon’s sister hotel, Hacienda Puerta Campeche, just inside the city walls (rates in high season start at $418).
Or just read the whole damn thing here. Ignore the photo.
Apparently there is this long-running series of vidya games called Fallout, and a comestible called Iguana Bits features prominently in each game.
Iguana Bits are found everywhere in the landscape, but most particularly at snackbars, where they resemble sweet-and-sour-chicken chunks on skewers. They seem to fill the role of fast-food in a post-nuclear-holocaust future.
Strangely, there are no actual iguanas depicted in these games. Maybe it’s fake iguana meat. Maybe it’s really mutant axolotl. Or tofu.
In this dreadful YouTube video, someone shows how to make fake Iguana Bits out of minced beef or lamb:
A surviving pair, Burt and Gert, even made it to the White House! They were both nearly five feet long by then, and a spare bathroom on the third floor of the Executive Mansion was given over for their exclusive use. When the weather was fine, they were allowed out to frolic on the South Lawn.
Iguana Bits are found everywhere in the landscape, but most particularly at snackbars, where they resemble sweet-and-sour-chicken chunks on skewers. They seem to fill the role of fast-food in a post-nuclear-holocaust future.
