Friday, January 09, 2009

The Oooliad: An Alimentary Epic, Prologue

"We usually react squeamishly to shit as if it were something bad.
But if we look into the matter we see that it could be the most
valuable substance on earth, because all life comes from shit and
returns to shit."

Vladimir Voinovich, The Life and Extraordinary Adventures of Private Ivan Chonkin

Prologue on Olympus: Olympus and Hera's Anger

Hera's wrath, to Oooli the direful spring
Of turds unnumber'd, heavenly host, sing!

Et passim, ad nauseam!(Cough) One can't sing in the grande style the dire travails
our heroine endured at the terminus of her alimentary canal.
From the Queen of the Gods the ruinous bolt shot. Jealousy and Ennui poured
calumnies in her ear about Zeus' love. And to her Brother-mate she sped.

Zeus, at the time, was being spray-tanned by Ganymede. Thumbing through an issue
of US and shaking his Hoary Locks to music on his iPod. Ageless and careless,
the Gods were like wealthy Americans. And, like them, too, the Recession was fodder
for Banquet Hall bon-mots.

Espying Hera from the corner of his eyes, he nudged fair Ganymede and issued
a few sighs.
"Who is this Maiden you openly try to seduce? You only curse those you woo!
Two attempts have I heard, luckily failed. Now her very bowels I shall travail!"
"Shush dear Queen. It's only respite from the monotony. The girl drives a truck
with a gun-rack. She's a hillbilly! A match to you? No! A mere dalliance."
"Two attempts you fool! Once as a Rat, the next, a mouse! Once more and I'll
have Hephaestus geld you!"
"Hold thy threats and know your place! It may be different down there, but here,
nothing's changed!"
And Zeus' threat hit home and Hera began to blubber. Nothing changed, not even
Hera's hard heart.

The Gods were stuck between boredom and bemusement. Apollo ruled the Mount
with his son Aesculapius. Ambrosia, after so many years, tasted flat, gave no mirth.
Pill-time was the rage. Ganymede and Hebe pushed the cart at 6 hour intervals.
Zeus took Xanax. Hera,Paxil. Hermes was off on a cloud doing Crystal Meth. Ares,
after Aeons of War, was morbidly obese, took Lipitor and desired a Gastric By-Pass.
Aphrodite, his wife, had Chlamydia and wanted her breasts augmented.

In short Olympus, by dint of years of mortals' oblivion, had went neurotic
and became a clinic. Yearning for times when they actually mattered, they now
were nostalgic voyeurs, watching Reality TV and reading the Papers. Men had reached
the moon and made a pill to make them more virile. Why call upon the Gods' when they
did all by their own mettle? This deepened their sadness and they acted like parents
who have lost their children.

They had become myths for skinny pedants to argue over. Heroes and fair
maidens no longer vied for their favor. No fatted calf on the spit roasted for them.
Steaks, hamburgers and hot-dogs were insults.

So fortune and misfortune came from them as from a Lottery. They were careless,
fickle, yet still had the power of Deities.

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