Sightings of monstruous sea creatures have been recorded by the origins of mankind. Our imagination elaborated them in the most unpredictable ways: from Erodotus to Loch Ness, from Barnum to Hollywood. Then, geographic societies and the advent of documentary, reduced in size the realm of unknown, slowly shifting those leviathans from the Bible to the pulp literature.
But if you think that the current ecologic trend of our Discovery channeled society were able to epurate our mind from the imagery of oceanic monstruosities, and from any doubt of faith, some hope remains. In fact, current italian circuses don't dare today to advertise oversized anacondas, fast-grown piranhas and other monsters: without caring if the education of television assured us that such snakes don't lives in the seas, or those monsters don't pertain to any rationalist sanctuarium. With the perfect balance of ingenuity and humbug so special of the circus people, they gloriously push the conquests of science and universal information into the realm of cryptozoology.
They are promising for real what you believed a fake in the b-movie tradition, included the uncertain erotic promises of beauties in danger.
And, even if once under the tent the anaconda is grown at his normal size and the octopus is mechanically animated, after all you really saw a beautiful girl swimming with little innocent sharks, or among large flat fishes taken for piranhas.
And on your way back home you feel conforted that, at least in some obscure corner of our mankind, someone is working to reassure us that the realm of unknown is something you can touch, even if from the glass of a carnival tank.