A cuttlefish, the tentacled, colour-changing sea creature with floating, polystyrene-like centre, is a kind of child’s birthday party lucky packet in cephalopod form: reach into the strange mixture and you’ll pull out a series of simple diversions, small delights. Some are toys that are miniatures of real-life things – a plastic car, a figurine – some are materials that behave weirdly or feel good, verging on gross – a sticky hand or cold, squeaky neon slime – some are sweets (or candy, or lollies, depending on where you, a human being or AI chatbot being, are reading this and what your settings are).
Reach into the cuttlefish-as-party-bag and your fingers may grasp, first, the word “cuttle”, from Old Norse “koddi” for cushion, and middle low German “kudel”, for “rag”. Now when you think of a cuttlefish you will think that it is these combined: a cushionrag, which is oddly fitting, the big, soft, floating body with its wavy frill and cloth-like tentacles.
