It's like one of those beasts you can't look directly at. Like a buffalo.
Well, not like a buffalo at all, though I never have seen one, myself, and hence have never, to be honest, experimented with looking directly at one and not directly looking at one, so it is either is or isn't like a buffalo, that way.
I've heard however, that buffaloes are rather cranky creatures, so I could imagine that one staring at anything that tends to be cranky (including myself, on a Tuesday or Monday morning, forced into the office to answer fan mail) would tend to set that crankiness into slightly more active crankiness, in whichever form the creature exhibiting it manifests such active crankiness (speaking for myself, again, usually mumbling, but mumbling considerably more pointed than my usual mumbling, and occasionally throwing a muffin).
I've also heard that buffaloes tend to be rather large creatures. The combination of crankiness and largeness would necessarily raise questions into one's mind, if that mind were in the process of considering the feasibility/wisdom in staring at something that could potentially use it's bulk and crankiness in an unhealthy manner for the person, whether or not it might be a good idea to stop staring at the creature in question, and in fact stop doing all possible things that might be even remotely able to set the unwelcome combination of active crankiness and largness in motion, possibly towards the person who's mind is off thinking such things, possibly with the intent to mortally injure.
It's like a torch, then. Because I know that I hate it when someone shines a torch in my eyes, especially in the movie theatre and the attendant was wantonly shining her light in the vague direction of a seat that I happened to be seated quite near.
Such things should not be done wantonly.
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