Do You Know a Skoora?

on those who do harm and the excuses we make for them

amazing art by Demi Whiffin

Note: My family is currently experiencing a health-related crisis, making the newsletter more haphazard than it usually is. I plan to bring the regular structure back as soon as possible.

REASONS FOR LIVING with Esmé Weijun Wang is a newsletter that comes out every other week, and is free, featuring a guest essay, poem, piece of visual art, and journal prompt. These things all hang together in a singular edition. On the days when REASONS FOR LIVING is not sharing those things, I publish a paywalled personal essay. This is for a number of reasons: some of my personal essays are very personal, and I like the idea of a bit of protection; also, paying subscribers receive a paywalled personal essay every other week. Paying members also get to participate in my monthly Fireside Chats, which explore some aspect of creativity and life.

Please consider supporting this newsletter. It is very much appreciated.

There’s a “Kids in the Hall” sketch that my BFF and I often refer to, calling certain people a “Skoora” if they match the criteria. In the sketch, a man named Kevin, looking for a place to stay, stops by a seaside inn. It’s an otherwise normal shelter—except that everyone in the inn is mutilated in some way, and they’ve all suffered from the same fate: it was Skoora, the Gentle Shark, who got to them.

When Kevin asks a sea captain to explain his own story, this is what he says:

“Oh, I used to be the captain of my own cruise ship. It was the kind of boat folks rent for weddings, parties, that kind of thing. But on the night in question, it had been rented for a prom. Oh, the girls looked so lovely in their dresses, the boys such fine little gentlemen in their tuxedos. They were all drinking and dancing and spiking the punch. I was dizzy with delight when suddenly, my ship sank, and we all went into the water. Then came Skoora, picking us off one by one by one by one. Till only I was left. And as he bore down on me, he paused as if to say, ‘What can I do? I'm a shark. I eat.’ And then he cut me in half, cut me right in half—my wife measured me, I'm exactly half my former length. But as he swam away with my lower extremities dangling from his jaw, I swear to god he was crying.”

Mystified, Kevin replies, “Crying?”

The sea captain says, “Yes, crying. Oh to be sure, he's a brutal killing machine! But he shows more remorse than I've ever seen in a human.”

Kevin, who at this point imagines Skoora to be a menace to the area who should probably be put down, makes the mistake of saying so. Everyone in the inn is made aghast by the suggestion.

“Have you missed the point, man?” one man cries. Another repeats, “Have you missed the point?”

And then we start to get into Skoora’s central concept.

“He can't help it,” says one of the mutilated men. “It's his nature.”

“He's a shark,” says another.

One shouts, “Yes, would you kill the birds for singing? Would you poison the fish for swimming? Would you shoot the children for laughing?”

Kevin, who is now mystified (and probably imagining the terrible image of shooting children for laughing), backpedals: “No! I guess not. I wasn't thinking.”

The man who last spoke, satisfied that he’s made his point, says, “Well, I'll show you to your room, then.” Unfortunately for him, a fin appears from behind the front desk, and he is yanked down beyond sight. Bloody water shoots up to the ceiling.

“My god, my god!” Kevin screams. “Skoora is eating the innkeeper!”

Asks one of the bystanders, “How is Skoora taking it?”

“Not very well,” says Kevin. Everyone wrings their hands and shakes their heads, moaning in sorrow over poor Skoora, who really didn’t mean to kill that shoot the children for laughing guy but does feel SUPER bad for it at this point.

In the sketch’s climax, the inn’s residents all burst into song, including Kevin, who is handed a lyric sheet:

“Skoora, Skoora
Skoora, the gentle shark!
Skoora, Skoora. He's a killer with a broken heart.
Don't blame him! He blames himself!
Don't hate him! He hates himself!
Skoora, Skoora. Skoora the gentle shark!”

Though the sketch is meant to be absurd, watching it doesn’t feel so ridiculous. Unless you’ve lived a particularly fortunate life, you’ve probably encountered a Skoora. You may have even gotten romantically or platonically entangled with a Skoora. (Raises hand.) The problem with Skoora is not only that he feels sorry for himself even after maiming and devouring over and over again, but that everyone around him also feels sorry for him. I mean, they even have a fucking song about it.

Take Jax Taylor, for example.