Strugr

"Ask a Dog"
What People Are Saying About Zack*     'Stupid Dog' -Augustus Sneedboyle, III     'Surreal' -Felonius Harebelly     '....the reincarnation of Evelyn Waugh. A merited fate.' -Lilian Gish     'I miss Christian Romance' -Harvey Hinklemeyer (speaking for his dog)     'I can't contend with Zack's scholarship.' -Voscar Bliss     'This is a blog? I thought it was Hades.' -a future commentor (from South Africa)     'When the Chronicles get published I want you to write a blurb.' -Bulrod Mimsby-Spitch     'What do you think I am, the Great Gatsby?' -O. Bucky Ackenbola (ok ok so he didn't say that to Zack)     'Oh, you'd be surprised, Zack, at what I can believe.' -Sir Richard Arcos     'Careful, Zack. People who know too much have a habit of knowing nothing ever again.' -Big Chief Susquehannah     '"For they sleep not, except they have done mischief; and their sleep is taken away, unless they cause some to fall. (Pr 4:16)"' -Minerva Shunks     *names have been changed to protect those who did not want to be associated with their names.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
An update

Dear friends, I have been invited to join an elite ring of reformed bloggers. This though I am an atheist. It is because of the quality and thoughtfulness of my posts. The female made excuses for me. She said I wasn't 'dignified' enough to reside a place like 'solideogloria.com'. Pah. She is just jealous of the recognition accruing to my posts. I am deliberating whether I will accept this invitation or not. If you suddenly come here and see a blank whiteness with a new address do not be alarmed. However I am not sure about uprooting all of my readers-- five people, or less, might have to change the links to me in their sidebar. And think of the RSS readers! No my loyal ones, I shall not do it to you: fame means nothing to next to your minor inconvenience. (Besides the female won't let me.)
posted by Zack @ 9/23/2006 11:50:00 AM   4 comments
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Chapter Thirteen: Return of the Longest Chapter

My Magnum Opus

Chapter THIRTEEN Who Ate the Advocate?

Meanwhile, the court was in chaos.

The minister was banging his gavel: Crossing Cow was practicing with his tomahawk in a way that demonstrated how little practice he needed: and several minor characters were adding to the general confusion by singing a loud drinking song in celebration of one of their having said the alphabet, from A to B, backwards.

Your Honor!” Rip was saying. “Your Honor, please, Your Honor, If I could just--” He leisurely lowered his large hand, gesturing torpidly beside his forehead, from an acute angle with the elbow to an obtuse, thereby mesmerizing the court: “about this smuggling charge.”

Silence began to gather in the court once more. “YES, YOUNG MAN: I HAVE HEARD OF THIS SMUGGLING CHARGE. IT SOUNDS TO ME LIKE THE YOUNG WOMAN IS GUILTY, BUT WE WOULDN’T WANT TO BE TOO HASTY. LET IT FIRST BE DEMONSTRATED WHAT SHE IS ACCUSED OF SMUGGLING.”

At this point, Nobilette’s skirt entered, borne of four. “Your honor: this is very difficult.” Rip paused “You see, all I have in the world is a magnet.... This magnet here.” He held it up for the observation of the court, extending the oblique arm into more of a salute. “Whereas that-- that object you see accompanied by four men there: (pointing with the other arm until he had achieved the stance of a traffic director. The crowd gaped in awe) “that is the accused woman’s former skirt.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving manfully. “It would have made a great tablecloth.” Silence reigned as he recovered himself. “This skirt,” he continued “will be put on display here—not just here, Your Honor, but there, by that little plant on the credenza. Let it be entered as Exhibits A, B, C, and D. Let it be E, too, if necessary. Shucks, Your Honor, It can go all the way to V without inconveniencing any of the other exhibits, which are – (here he indolently produced a pink wad from the recesses of his lower jaw) this piece of chewing gum, and that plant on the credenza.”

“WHAT DOES THE PLANT HAVE TO DO WITH IT, MY FELLOW MAN?”

Rip whirled at the speed of a paper airplane and faced the court: “Your honor,” he said, with an air of deliberation that would have been impossible for a man with shorter or more tractable hair. “I question that plant’s motive for being so near the skirt this time.”

A gasp went up from the audience.

“AHEM! YOU FORGET, YOUNG MAN, THE SKIRT IS NOT ON TRIAL HERE!”

That's very true, your Honor. Very true. I'm not sure, though, that it isn't at the bottom of things. Witness for instance, this chewing gum – my last piece of chewing gum in the world, Your Honor, – found in the folds of (pausing dramatically) the skirt. (the audience gasped) And when we found the chewing gum, we also found something else…” he paused, dramatically. Then he seemed to forget about the trial and all that had gone before, and started playing with the safety pins on his shirt front.

“AND WHAT WAS THAT?”

That? Oh… ah. Well….” he sighed. “Among other things, we found a little sewing kit. You know, the kind women always carry....” Here he sent a searching glance in Nobilette’s direction. But she was looking at her hands, trying very hard not to look at the Seminarian.* “It’s just this, your honor: that when we found the chewing gum, we also discovered- these.”

A gasp from the audience.

Ah, er…. no, not these exactly.... (he moved gradually to replace the minister's high school diploma, which he had knocked off the wall in the generosity of the moment), but those, over there.”

The audience gasped. For what he indicated, arms akimbo, stacked on the floor by the credenza (not his arms, but something else) were twenty copies of Peter Pan.

“YOUNG WOMAN!” thundered the minister. “WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH THESE? YOU MUST KNOW THIS KIND OF LITERATURE IS BANDED THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE REGION OF THE LOWER LUMBAR! WE ARE RELIGIOUS ROMANCE PEOPLE HERE: WE DON’T WANT YOUR IMAGINATIVE STORIES!” He spit. On Crossing Cow unfortunately, who rose up impromptu and killed somebody. (I told you someone died)

Nobillette blazed out hotly. “I wasn’t taking them to religious-- or to romantic- people! I was taking them to the Seminarians!”

Your honor,” the Seminarian beside her calmly said, “Had we known that she was bringing a version that included such scantily clad depictions of Tinkerbell, we would never have accepted her offer. As it is, we feel that no penalty you impose upon her could be too strict, and it might wake her up out of her two watery, burning pools of….” But he made the mistake of looking at her for inspiration, and was caught with the impossible wonder of a crocodile tearing into a Sambhur. He fell silent.

“YOU HAVE EXCOMMUNICATED YOURSELF, YOUNG MAN. WE CAN SEE THAT YOU HAD NOTHING WHATEVER TO DO WITH THE CHEWING GUM WHICH THIS LADY SO BRAZIOUCSLY ACCOMPANIED. AS FOR THIS YOUNG WOMAN... WE SENTENCE HER TO LIFE IN BED!”

The crowd roared in exultation.

WAIT!” shouted Nobilette. “I demand the hearing of my defense! I Demand my Advocate!”

The crowd blinked in surprise.

There was the minister: there was his ear: there was the space beside it

but where was the advocate?

.There was a little yellow peel, lying in a heap on the credenza. At the sight of it, the minister began to tremble.

“WHO WOULD HAVE DONE THIS?” he cried, then broke into a bitter wail. “WE WERE GOING TO BE MARRIED!”

Just then, something on the ground caught the minister’s eye. He reached out a quivering arm and picked it up from where it lay beside the credenza. It was the chewing gum. The minister dusted it off, and contemplated it carefully for a few moments. Then he placed it in his ear.

It was a perfect fit.

*Note to Sir Richard: This was not because the Seminarian had, according to popular belief, 'developed a hideous dial or a prominent boil or attained to an advanced state of decomposition while yet alive.'

posted by Zack @ 9/20/2006 09:12:00 PM   6 comments
The Vicissitudes of Romance

Recently I remarked to my wife, "you're pretty when you're faithful". This led to the discovery, in an open discussion, that she had been faithful to me at a quarter to three a couple Tuesdays ago --unfortunately, I was not here at the time to appreciate it. Does anyone else have this problem?
posted by Ruben @ 9/20/2006 10:24:00 AM   7 comments
Friday, September 15, 2006
A Narrow Shave

I am sure everyone else got as tense as I did over the near disaster when airport security almost didn't let her take the manuscript on the plane with her. Of course, you know why they wanted to do that --they wanted to read it before everyone else. Fortunately she stuck to her guns and rubber bands and the either evil or dimwitted airport security guards were foiled. But then, you can always count on her to be creative --although I wish she wouldn't take such risks with her work and would photocopy everything and place it in a safe house guarded by loyal dingos and devoted Estonians. But, it's a great day when the news features tragedies and disasters that almost happened. I have a friend who accuses the Reformed of constantly almost having done something. I would like to point out to him that this is not a Reformed matter: this is present in the general culture.
posted by Ruben @ 9/15/2006 03:29:00 AM   2 comments
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Chapter Twelve: The Longest Chapter

Dear Reader: Loyal Fan: Patronizing Public: Neil, Lauren, Vic, Laura, and the visitor from South Africa: We are nearing the end of the romance. Someone will die. That is all I can tell you now. It made me scream when I reread it. I hope it isn't me. You will recall that this chapter is a court scene. "In Which, We Sense That the End is Near, and Begin Stockpiling Rotten Tomatoes"

“YOUR HONOR!” boomed the voice of the minister. “WILL YOUR EMINENCE PLEASE… OH WAIT, I AM MY OWN EMINENCE—” There were several bangs with a gavel, which could scarcely be heard over the cries of mob.

The Indian who had made his opinion of the minister so clear earlier now stood and used his tomahawk on a passing scull. “SILENCE, OR WE KNOCK DOWN AND SAY HATEFUL THINGS!”

In the lull that followed, Rip stood forward. “Your Honor,” he began. “This is a difficult thing for me.” He swallowed, and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “You see, Sir, all my life, I’ve been a drifter. Drifting here…. Drifting there…. Drifting, drifting....” His voice seemed momentarily to give way. “And now this woman, this one right here, is accused of running a smuggling operation out of the folds of her voluminous skirt. This young man beside her— this man, who claims his name is ‘Falling Rock’, is accused of being with her at the time of her arrest. Your Honor,” He concluded. “This leads us to suspect his motives.”

“WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF, YOUNG MAN?” The minister intoned.

The Seminarian cleared his throat.

“SILENCE!” the gavel banged vehemently on many surrounding objects. “WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS, A CIRCUS? WELL IT ISN’T. THIS IS A COURT. WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION, ANSWER! NOW, SPEAK UP!” He was wearing glasses and a wig. The banana hovered from his right ear. “THIS BANANA MAY RESEMBLE A LARGE, YELLOW HEARING AID, BUT IT ISN’T.”

The Seminarian cleared his throat again. “Well, your hon—”

Vehement bangs and the sound of shattering glass interrupted him. “BE QUIET, YOUNG MAN OR I’LL HOLD YOU IN CONTEMPT OF COURT!”

HA!” Shouted the Chief Indian. “We Do Contempt Court, and Contempt You Most of All!”

The minister smiled pleasantly. “WELL, YES. I CAN SEE HOW YOU WOULD FEEL THAT WAY, MR… MR…”

Crossing Cow.”

“MR. … UH – MR. COW. PLEASE MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME HERE. IF THERE’S ANYTHING WE CAN GET YOU—A GLASS OF WATER, SOME… CLOVER-PERHAPS....” He trailed off into silence, under the withering gaze of the Indian.

“Your Honor, may I speak now?” asked Falling Rock, feebly.

“MY EARS ARE OPEN, YOUNG MAN: EXCEPT THAT I HAVE A BANANA IN ONE OF THEM.”

I would like to add that this woman should also be charged with wearing man’s clothing.”

A gasp went up from the audience, and Nobilette jerked towards him in disbelief.

Snort stepped forward: “Pahdon me, Your Honor, but while it is true that this woman is wearin' man’s clothing, it’s obvious to everyone here, as well as to this Seminarian—who told me so himself, that it does not conceal her womanly figure!”

Another gasp from the audience.

Nobilette spluttered with rage. “This is an outrage! This man is working for the prosecuting attorney! I want my own lawyer!”

“WELL, HOW ABOUT IT, FOLKS?” The minister intoned cheerfully. “IS ANYONE HERE WILLING TO DEFEND THIS WOMAN AGAINST THESE CALUMNIOUS CHARGES? HER FRAUDULENT PERSECUTORS? THE CORRUPTION OF THIS COURT?”

Silence.

“WHAT WAS THAT? DID SOMEONE SPEAK? NO? THEN IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE BANANA. BE QUIET, BANANA. NOW YOUNG WOMAN, YOUR OPTIONS ARE BEFORE YOU. YOU HAVE THE CHOICE OF ONE THING OR ANOTHER, AND THE OTHER IS THE COUNSEL OF THIS BANANA—WHO DOES, MAY I ADD, HAVE THE EAR OF THIS COURT. HAHAHAH! GET IT? THE EAR OF THIS COURT? HA HAH!”

His laughter died on his lips under the glare of Crossing Cow, who was, as they say so well, “not amused.”

Nobilette banged her head on a neighboring tomahawk in frustration.

Excuse me, Your Honor, but it seems to me very clear that this woman should be imprisoned,” said her fellow accused. “The evidence is upon her.”

Nobilette gazed at him in perplexed astonishment and pain ”Why are you doing this?” she asked.

I’m merely trying to force people to the logical conclusion of their beliefs.” He muttered. Nobilette looked dazed. “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the cause of truth,” the Seminarian continued. “Look: this time, it happens to be you. Last time, it happened to be somebody else. I am willing to sacrifice everyone I know for truth.”

It must be lonely for you at times,” Nobilette observed.

It is,” said the Seminarian, and turned his face to the West, where the setting sun was spilling over the scene. “But it will all be worth it someday.”

When?” asked Nobilette.

When…?” The Seminarian turned back towards her. He studied her sincere face, glowing in the light of the Western hemisphere. He thought of crocodiles. He thought of the joyful plash of displaced, dirty water. Her little bows were like salmon in the river of her hair. Her eyes were brimming with light, like a pond in the wood – like a pond in the wood where the wild deer sup.... And the Sambhur belled; and the sambhur belled....

But there were no sambhur. And he would never scout alone. A vicious desire to educate her possessed him and he and spat out cruelly: “When the little hand reaches seven.”

By which time it might be observed that Nobilette had fallen violently in love with him.

posted by Zack @ 9/06/2006 07:15:00 PM   7 comments

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