August 19, 2007

Scatological Thinking

8/19/07

“Often a noble face hides filthy ways.”
-- Euripides
-- Electra, 413 B.C.

Nobody’s wish washy about scatological humor. You either like it or you don’t. But from whence does our disgust over the lower bodily functions come? What is it they remind us of? Is our disgust context bound? Why is a hair on the head less offensive than a hair on the yolk of our fried egg?

“The Family! Home of all social evils, a charitable institution for indolent women, a prison workshop for the slaving breadwinner, and a hell for children.”
-- August Strindberg
The Son of a Servant, 1886

Max Roach died and it’s a rainy day. As an experiment, I thought I would simply sit in front of the keyboard and write all day, sort of a cyber-stream-of-consciousness. I’m listening to Jack DeJohnette. Got a call earlier complaining about my blog. It was from a relative. She wondered if Jesus was really my hero. The satellite guy was here. As it turns out, the trees in my neighbor's yard are blocking the signal. Great, it’s fall and I’m a compulsive football gambler with no T.V.….Just got a call from my brother (Paul) in the U.P. (Upper Peninsula of Michigan). Marquette set a record yesterday, it was 36 degrees. He caught two Walleye and two Pike. They were too small, so he released them.



“Rather know nothing than half-know much.”
-- Nietzsche
-- Thus Spake Zarathustra, 1883-92

After an interim in which David Swain and Dave Clark came over and helped me out, I’m back at it. Swain’s rock, funk big band, “Orange Door Hinge,” is going to play at the Heidelberg Club Above happy hour on Friday, October 19. Clark came over and tightened up the kitchen faucet. While he was here we talked about the art of flushing. One of Clark’s last two tasks here had to do with a clogged commode. Before we headed north after my first treatment, my friend, Don Kuhli, who, by his own admission, is a master of the super giant, sub-prime, bowel movement, left a memento of his brief stay. Unfortunately, my toilet was unable to accommodate his gift. After hearing the disgusting details from my intrepid roommate, Kim French, I decided it was time that I had a talk with Kuhli about the art of flushing. Apparently Don has never heard of the courtesy flush, that dual-purpose mid-visit evacuation of the bowl which ensures that innocent bystanders be spared the initial stench, and eases the carrying capacity of the throne’s total workload. Had he practiced this clog free, pre-wipe ritual, Clark’s visit would have been unnecessary. Visualization is also very helpful in these endeavors. Talking things down, tempered with a willful imagining of exactly where the effluence is going, provides an effective way of maintaining psychic control over a physically volatile situation. He also admitted to a serious toilet paper addiction. Much like my roommate, Don apparently feels that one can never wipe enough. Cleanliness is next to Godliness!

Goodbye!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

During a visit several months ago, my daughter's friend left a similar gift -- and it wouldn't flush no matter what I did. Finally, after several attempts at it wielding an industrial plunger, I got the cement strength turd down the hole. If anything, it's a message that people need to include more fiber in their diets. Let's do the bran chant ...

-- B.

Anonymous said...

Oh my fricative word! I believe I have stopped up toilets all over America! What a reason to be recognized. San Diego, Big Sur, Boston, Marquette, Ann Arbor...so many more challenges and locations to visit...