Anti-Octopus Misinformation campaign Reaches New Heights:

The cephalopodist (racist against cephalopods) propaganda machine is riding high at the moment with this new article from The Independent purporting to be a comprehensive guide on how octopuses use each of their tentacles. Dear readers, please believe us when we tell you this article is complete and utter sharkshit.

In light of this concerted effort by the establishment to spread misinformation about our eight-tentacled companions, we at Concrete Octopus have taken it upon ourselves to compile our own guide. Unlike our colleagues at The Independent, however, we have gone to the trouble of speaking with several octopuses directly—namely, marine biologist, Qdzynzyqy, Michelin star chef, Myggzymyz and world-famous party octopus, Gydyrksff.

1. The first tentacle is used much as we humans/meat-droids might use our dominant hand, though it also serves the same purpose as the index finger when used gesturally. According to Qdzynzyqy, they tend to use this tentacle to wield an oyster knife when cracking open clams to recover their delicious pearls—purely for research purposes, you understand. Myggzymyz is similarly inclined and they use this tentacle to great effect while wielding their Wüsthof 7.9” chef’s knife to carve perfect shark steaks for their world-renowned Surf and Turf—the “turf” in this instance consisting of free-range, farm fed Trans-exclusionary Radical Feminists, which Myggzymyz developed a taste for while promoting their cookbook Taste Poems for the Discerning Cephalopod in Scotland. Gydyrksff tells us this is the tentacle they use to crack open a cold brew at the start of the night—it will also later be employed as an anchoring tentacle when skinning-up one of their famous Masta-Blasta© spliffs.

2. The second tentacle is used almost exclusively as a way of conveying one’s anger or disgruntlement, akin to the middle finger. Qdzynzyqy uses it to great effect when encountering sharks, who, as we all know, are agents of the enemy and should be treated with contempt, and crabs, who are too thick to understand its significance. Myggzymyz uses their second tentacle to convey constructive criticism in the kitchen—when, for instance, their sous-chef has split the Béarnaise for the third time running. According to Gydyrksff, they rarely use this tentacle, as they are an octopus of love, not hate, reserving it for people who “harsh their mellow” and people who hog the playlist/Bogart the joint/backwash the Jack Daniels.

3. The third tentacle is the tentacle of love and affection, similar to a ring finger and, incidentally, it serves the same purpose in octopus marriage ceremonies, being the tentacle onto which the groom slides a razor-clam shell—meant to symbolise the abundance of matrimony and as a not-so-subtle double entendre. Qdzynzyqy uses this tentacle to soothe any dolphins that might have accidentally become entangled in their nets and so avoid an international incident with their oceanic neighbours—the war still being fresh in everyone’s memories. Myggzymyz on the other tentacle uses their third appendage to stir soups and sauces, as this requires a gentle touch—not for nothing does Myggzymyz claim all their dishes are “made with love”, although this seemingly harmless phrase has gotten them into hot water in the past*. Gydyrksff claims this is their most used tentacle, but they refuse to elaborate on how they use it.

4. The fourth tentacle is for whimsical gestures and broadly equates to the little finger. It might be raised in salutation when encountering a close friend or relative, can be wiggled to convey coquettishness or playfulness and is the tentacle most octopuses use when playing poker. Qdzynzyqy tells us they use this tentacle when applying for research grants and in interviews, as it puts people at ease while simultaneously conveying a sense that they are not above a little good-natured seahorseplay. Myggzymyz uses it for similar reasons, when they need to diffuse tension in the kitchen after a difficult service or when attempting to dispel malicious rumours that they have no sense of humour. Gydyrksff finds the fourth tentacle to be the perfect vehicle for snorting octopine, as it adds a certain je nais sais quoi to the act, akin to lifting the little finger when drinking tea.

5. The fifth tentacle is used exclusively for apologies, with the magnitude of the gesture determining the extent to which an octopus regrets an action—a slight wiggle might be employed when bumping into someone on the street, while a full-limbed wave might be used when expressing heartfelt remorse for, say, running off with your personal trainer for a fling in Zakynthos while your wife is left looking after the hatchlings in the one-nest maisonette you bought together in the English Channel, you bastard. Qdzynzyqy uses this tentacle to placate hostile journalists when answering questions about the dwindling supply of molluscs and crustaceans in British waters. Meanwhile, Myggzymyz tell us this is one of their most important tentacles, used when wiggling their fourth tentacle fails to provide adequate results, if, for instance, their sous-chef is crying in a corner after being hit with a frying pan. Gydyrksff claims they never use this tentacle as they have no regrets about any of their actions whatsoever, even that business off the coast of Gibraltar in 2019**.

6. The sixth tentacle is the tentacle of deviousness and is often curled or coiled akin to crossing one’s fingers when making a promise. Though it is often used ironically amongst friends to convey facetiousness or sarcasm, it has passed into popular octopus parlance in the form of several idioms, most famously “they drink their clam-juice with their sixth tentacle”, which is a way of saying someone is inherently disingenuous or given to lying—a phrase most commonly used when discussing politicians. Qdzynzyqy uses this tentacle in tandem with their fifth when apologising for any ecological catastrophes they may have been accused of—as a way of dogfish-whistling to their fellow octopuses and assuring them that the Atlantic clam fields will remain in cephalopod tentacles for the foreseeable future. Myggzymyz also deploys their sixth tentacle in this way when apologising to staff, though they often use it when making especially indulgent dishes, such as ortolan in Croizet and platinum sauce, gold-plated chocolate torte and chocolate-plated golden-goose. Gydyrksff states that they never use the sixth tentacle for disingenuous purposes, as they like to “keep it real” but they do employ it when consuming illicit substances and will often hold their joint in this tentacle.

7. The seventh tentacle is used to emphasise other gestures—a bit like a prehensile exclamation mark. For example, when used in conjunction with the fifth tentacle, it serves to underline the octopus’ admission of guilt or regret, while using it alongside the third tentacle conveys ardent love or passion for the recipient. It is almost never used on its own and doing so is widely considered to be uncouth if not in fact rude. Particularly flamboyant octopuses make great use of their seventh tentacle, hence the saying “they swim with their seventh tentacle outstretched”. Qdzynzyqy, as an octopus of science, rarely uses this tentacle as they believe knowledge requires no emphasis, only employing it in conjunction with their second tentacle on encountering particularly large or aggressive sharks—similar to raising the middle fingers of both hands simultaneously. Conversely, Myggzymyz, being a passionate, Mediterranean octopus, uses their seventh tentacle almost constantly as a way of accompanying their many gesticulations in the kitchen and is one of the few octopuses that use it solo, mostly to express admiration for the flavour of a dish or to communicate a sense of general well-being at the end of a service. Gydyrksff also lives life with their seventh tentacle outstretched, using it to lay down fat lines, sprinkle the kine bud and hold the lid of the cocktail shaker closed.

8. The eighth tentacle is the non-dominant tentacle and is mostly used in conjunction with the first, though it can also be used gesturally to convey passivity or servility. When opening doors for others, an octopus will always use their seventh tentacle out of politeness, and unlike humans/meat-droids octopuses will shake tentacles using this tentacle when greeting one another—though this is less out of politeness and more due to the old octopus credo “meet peacefully, but be ready to brain them with a big rock”. Qdzynzyqy gets most use out of their eighth tentacle when handling clams, using this tentacle to hold the clam steady when prying them open, though they may also use it when dealing with the press—most commonly in conjunction with their fifth, sixth and seventh tentacles, depending on how badly the interview is going. Myggzymyz only uses this tentacle to assist in cooking as they believe passiveness to be a sign of weakness, which has no place in their kitchen—as many young aspiring chefs have discovered to their chagrin. Unlike his more professionally minded compatriots, Gydyrksff often uses their eighth tentacle gesturally, alongside their seventh, to convey their message of universal peace and love, similar to using the fore and middle fingers to create a peace-sign—they also use it as a secondary anchoring point in the construction of their Masta-Blasta© spliffs.

And there you have it, the true purpose of each of an octopus’ tentacles, as described by actual octopuses. Hopefully this list has been enlightening and we have successfully dispelled some of the cruel rumours about cephalopods currently masquerading as “journalism” online.

*Namely a mistranslation that implied Myggzymyz had been nutting in the minestrone.

**To this day, Gydyrksff claims no responsibility for the six and a half deaths that took place aboard their pleasure barge, the Nine-Legged Octopus. As this incident is still subject to police investigation we are legally incapable of elaborating further.