[lit-ideas] Re: Twofer Sunday

  • From: David Ritchie <ritchierd@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Sun, 8 Nov 2009 11:32:47 -0800


Not mysterious in the least when you get to know her, our goddess moved in last week. How it happened was like this. I passed Hilaritus in the supermarket. Actually I failed to pass her; we bumped carts. After introductions, not knowing what else to say, I asked why minor Chinese gods never appear on toast, or dead zealots on a cheezit. It was like opening a spigot, "They do," she said, "but are they noticed? Where I come from there's angels bunched like traffic at Marble Arch, Ian Smith wallowing in jam, Ham stuck on ham, Lono counting his collectables and Surf detergent boxes, Fabulinus teaching in his pajamas, Greeks abounding; it's all quite mad, everyone bored to tears with eternity. The number one rat from the first bubonic pandemic bends your ear about what good burgers should taste like, and someone who's always wearing a label saying, "Hi, My name is 'Enid Bludgeon'"--I've no idea who she really is-- repeats to anyone who'll listen how much she appreciates the taste of Spam fritters. Mohammed of course is fine, and Buddha..., Jesus, the other big wigs never piss anyone off, but you should see the Egyptians and the Vikings when they get a bit of drink inside. No wonder," she said, "there are so many cheap day returns..., on toast and so on. A guest appearances on a wall or toilet door relieves the stress at very low cost to the heavenly 'oeconomy' and is often quite good fun." I don't know what came over me, but it seemed like a good opportunity to liven up our lives. "How about a couple of weeks with us? The girls are gone and we've buckets of room. I'll have to ask my wife, but I think we'd quite enjoy a Roman goddess visitor. We've not had one of those before." So that's it. She's got the guest room. It's pretty much like having an exchange student--Hilaritus mostly keeps herself to herself and waltzes around on her own schedule, one day in Gresham, the next Banks, but from time to time she spends the whole day infusing our house with the spirit of laugher, which is good.


If it were up to me and Hugo Ball, though he of course is long dead so I'm out on a limb here, words a bit like this would be made available as therapy, covered under the National Health. For fifty minutes at so much per, you'd get sounds and incantations, wobble bobble and strong, being and bang with plenty of gongy resonance. You'd get what we gave up with shamans' fade, "energy-loaded words" was Ball's term, not gobbledegook (which term was made up, BTW, by a Maverick, U.S. rep Maury Maverick), not a Portuguese palaver either, but klang und sigeln, tacking, tocking, ticking, flicking, sugar shaker shaker shaker stairs, fufu garri and yams, stingy things like urchins and the quarry owner, a spin roun' spin roun' kind of thing with lots of nogga nogga and nogga and L.L.P. Whatever makes you feel better beginning with the mouth and ear. Abracadabra, tontus talontus vade celeriter jubeo, you go, Yugo girl.

David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon

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