Right: Olivia, a common octopus (Octopus vulgaris) at Aquaworld in Crete.
The site says:
"You can often see Olivia examine her lunch in its plastic jar and then adroitly unscrew the yellow top and help herself... Although we haven't tried it out as yet, apparently another octopus could learn how to do the same just by watching her."
A lot of my stories, my life questions, ponder that problem: how can we open the jar without breaking it?
It's so much nicer, after all, if one's lunch doesn't have shards of glass in it.
bink and I spent some time over breakfast (two eggs, hashbrowns, toast and coffee) at CC's Diner in Montana trying to figure out how to save the aliensaur and the anchorite from the bounty hunter in The Disinherited [in post below!].
It was easy to come up with violent solutions, of course. But how boring, how obvious that is. It took us a while, turning the story this way and that, before we figured out the donuts could twist the problem open.
I'd like to see more middle-aged women (and men) with the intelligence of octopi make movies,
to complement the energetic young filmmakers (mostly male), who--charming as they are--tend to be, overall, more interested in screwing than unscrewing.
Challenge: How to make peace (say, opening a jar) interesting and dramatic?
Answer [one of many]: Employ cephalopods.
Idea for a film company: Curious Octopus Films.
[Sorry. Half-baked post. I blame Finland.]