Chapter Text
APPENDIX A: THE NAMING OF CATS
Extraneous unpublished material from “On Cats and Camp”; for those who like to unfurl scrolls
One unique component of Camp Terpsichorean culture is the syncretization of naming conventions borne of kittypets and warriors temporarily apprenticing under a jellicle. The Jellicle Code dictates that all cats have three names:
1. Given name: The name that is bestowed upon a cat by “the family”, either human or clan depending on a jellicle’s place of origin. It is commonplace for multiple cats to end up with the same given name. Can be translated easily back and forth from Twolegspeak to catspeak.
2. Chosen name: An uncommon name a cat chooses for themself, to distinguish them from all other cats. No two cats share a single chosen name. Adopted as a sort of rite of passage for kittypets and warriors coming into the Jellicle clan/cult. Tends to lose something in translation from catspeak to Twolegspeak, but is nonetheless discernible to human ears.
3. Secret name: A name the cat chooses for themself which only that cat knows. Never to be confessed to another feline or human. Unknowable and untranslatable; ineffable.
In Camp Terpsichorean’s early years, its director made a valiant effort to introduce this naming system to his campers. He quickly learned, however, that without the incentive of resurrection beyond the heaviside layer to suck them in, most felines were simply not interested in the convoluted precepts of a religious cult. (“Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats” remains the camp’s anthem to this day, but has received criticism over its lengthy yet incoherent delineation of what makes a jellicle a jellicle. As Smartestpants once pointed out, the song is just a description of “literally any cat.”)
(To reiterate: Jellicle cats and their worldview are beyond the scope of this article. The author would nonetheless like to take this opportunity to encourage certain excommunicated felines to really consider whether it makes sense to chase after a group of cats who make so little sense in the first place. If their entire organizing philosophy lacks any trace of central cohesion, their reasons for accepting or rejecting others are going to be just as arbitrary and impossible to ever satisfy.) (Dump those motherfucking assholes, M.)
But there are commonalities across feline cultures that prime any cat to respond favorably to the option of polynomenclature. As established in Ms. Hunter’s work, warriors grow into and discard three or four names over the course of their lives.
For example: Smartestpants was born Smartestkit; was in training as Smartestpaw during the particular summer this article explores; and was gifted the name Smartestpants by Sufferstar, the Scar and Dale leader, upon completion of that training, both in celebration of her successful transition to clan mediator and in recognition of her peculiar love for Twolegged culture.
Meanwhile, though most kittypets are only ever given one name, they respond happily to an unlimited number of alternates. Note, however, that all of these names, kittypet or warrior, official name or alternate, are given names: names bestowed upon the cat by parents or clan leaders, or for kittypets, by any human in the vicinity (Twolegs tend to be rather promiscuous with our nicknames).
Therefore, a unique tradition arose in Camp Terpsichorean. Cats who had previously understood names as something you were strictly given began to experiment with choosing for themselves what they’d like to be called. Kittypets spent their summers going by names like Bramblescratch and Mudstink, and warriors liberated themselves with titles like Fluffernutter and Colonel Mustard. Joshua Felix tried out names like Hunterdude and Mightykick, but decided he was most comfortable staying as just Josh.
Smartestpants, on the other hand, found a name she loved so much that she told my source she planned to use it as her secret name for the rest of her life. This source asked me to emphasize that her telling him about it fundamentally invalidated the name’s secrecy, never mind that she’d already used it as her name all summer, but those are jellicle rules, not warrior rules. Technically, Smartestpants could do as she liked. As could any cat who embraces his passion for rule-breaking and sheds the jellicle thinking still holding him back.
But I digress. That particular summer, Camp Terpsichorean was putting on a production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, and though Smartestpants was cast in a non-singing role as Tenth Sheath of Corn, and though her argument that this was the result of a conspiracy against her was not treated with the respect her arbitration skills deserved, Smartestpants loved that play. She loved it ferociously. It was her first play, her first musical, and she had nothing else to compare it to, but she knew it was the best musical, the only work of art that had ever mattered.
While exploring the story’s obscure Twolegged lore as research for her role, she discovered that Joseph’s grandmother was a famously clever mediator in her own right, personally responsible for Joseph’s father ascending to clan leadership even though he was more of a kittypet than a hunter. Smartestpants had been taught from a young age that cleverness was more important than physical prowess, and this Rebecca’s intelligence reached down through so many generations. In a way, Rebecca was actually the one who gave Joseph his amazing coat, because she was the one who made sure his father was powerful enough to access all the best materials and coatmakers and colors.
And so, Smartestpants adopted the name of the illustrious matriarch of her favorite work of fiction.
Meet Rebecca. She’s the coolest cat in the world.
FOOTNOTE TO APPENDIX A: My source was not very forthcoming about the extent of colors Smartestpants, or any cat, can actually see; a more incisive researcher than I will have to chase this lead. I still call on you, the reader, to envision an array of felines hopping around a stage and yowling in catsong about the many colors of a blue-and-grey blanket. Now perhaps you can comprehend the inordinate value of Camp Terpsichorean, and kittypet-warrior-jellicle-human cultural exchange.
APPENDIX B: EVIDENCE IN MACAVITY INVESTIGATION, ITEM 92551
A letter found in an abandoned lair in Southern California.
M,
Our work together is going to change the shape of human/cat research! Ashamed I held those fraudulent pet care fees over your head, so just in case it needs to be said: we are more than square. Come visit Jastinity, Jayma and Joshua any time you like. Please don’t bring your own catnip this time, though. We will use store brand.
Thank you for all your help and insight. You are the handsomest gentleman, yes you are,
- L
APPENDIX C: EVIDENCE IN MACAVITY INVESTIGATION, ITEM 99351
Recording of a call made to the West Covina police, 08/21/20XX
Lourdes Chan: What? No I am not calling with details about Macavity’s current location - have you been watching us? How dare you? No, wait, please do not hang up. There is a cat in here with a knife! I let her inside to play when suddenly - yes, she is a cat - yes, I invited her in, but she is usually such a good girl. I never expected this. I think it’s something to do with getting my son’s attention. No, my son is also a cat. Hello? Hello?