Why Furries?

Ah, the age-old question…

First off, “furry” in pop culture tends to mean “guys who dress up in animal mascot suits, possibly for sexual gratification.” Get that idea out of your mind, because it’s not the way we’re using the word here. Most furry fans don’t dress up in costumes at all.

“Furry” has two basic meanings within furry fandom—in one sense, we’re just talking about anthropomorphic animals, and in another, we’re talking about furry fans, i.e., fans of those anthropomorphic animals. The distinction between furry and funny animal, a much older term in the cartoon world, is a little nebulous, but furries aren’t necessarily funny—they’re aimed at adults. This isn’t to say “adult” in the X-rated sense, either, although goodness knows there’s certainly a lot of adults-only furry stuff out there.

I won’t wax philosophical about furry at you, but I think there’s a good case to be made that furry characters should be seen as rough equivalents to elves and dwarves in fantasy and (most) aliens in science fiction: they’re basically humans as seen through a particular kind of funhouse mirror that exaggerates various aspects for good and ill. With furries, it’s (obviously) the animal aspects. There’s some fantastic writing and art within furry fandom—while there’s certainly a lot of crap, Sturgeon’s Revelation is in play: the ratio of cruddy stuff to good stuff is about the same as it is for any other field.

When it comes to stories about giants and giantesses and making them furry, well: if you like furries it’s an obvious leap, and if you’ve already decided you hate furries you’re probably not reading this anyway. So many of the fantasies about giants out there involve them acting in an uncivilized, primal fashion, though—and isn’t it a little easier to imagine that 80′ tall woman looking at you and licking her lips hungrily if she happens to be a cat?

(What’s that? Oh, yes, you’re right, I am an 80′ tall cat-woman. But don’t worry. I hardly ever eat anyone these days.)