The Muse's Advisory typed & spellchecked by Tom Riordan
Ouroboros in Missouri - Muse's Advisory, June 18 – Urania
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- Postmark: Bahcesaray - Muses Advisory, June 19 - To Zeus from Bahira the Nestorian Monk
- Back in the Hotel - Muses Advisory, June 20 – Zeus/Miriam
- Through the Cracks - Muses Advisory, June 21 – Miriam to Zeus
- Pieces of Silver - Muses Advisory, June 22 – St. Paul to the Margaret Concierge
- At the Bar in the Frank Sinatra Building - Muses Advisory, June 23 – Zeus to Poseidonas
- Pros Cons of The Golden Crown - Muses Advisory, June 25 – Tom
- Στο δικαστήριό σου ασκώ έφεση, ω Kύρια! - Muses Advisory, June 26 – At the Front Desk of the Margaret
- Kazantzákis - Muses Advisory, June 27 – Terpsichore: The hajji raised
- Then the fountains water
- Margarís black eyes
- Distant Not So Distant Drums - Muses Advisory, June 28 – Thalia
Ouroboros in Missouri - Muse's Advisory, June 18 – Urania: Indeed, John was never the same after his near death encounter with the hoop-snake, as the kids in Sunday School attest. He'd scrawled over the blackboard hen to pan = one is all, a black-headed viper swallowing its chalked-in tail. “Plato's Timaeus!” he announced.Then he waited for them to react. When they didn't, beyond watching him with wider eyes, he pulled out that dog-eared friend and read: “ God imagined self-sufficiency.His first Son needed no eyes. Nothing existed to be seen. No ears: nothing to hear. No mouth to eat with and no organ to drop waste. It didn't hunt or defend itself, so had no hands or feet: a sphere, it rotated in solitary space.” “That's the hoop-snake, Mr. Cantell!” cried bright Billy Bob. “ Yes!” applauded the teacher,Please All of You Just Call Me John. “And it came for me last night— came rolling right down Mission Hill like thunder. But I managed to duck behind a big old cottonwood tree, which the hoop-snake's plenum instantaneously killed. Two black-ops Israelis chased the snake with Uzis blazing! But when the cottonwood fell, they vanished back into the air whence they had come.” “How did you know they were Israelis?” asked bright Billy Bob. Cantell just smiled. “The Russian mafia don't wear fatigues; Jamaicans definitely don't look like Hebes!” The class guffawed. “The question,” he went on,
“is What Would Jesus Do?And what will you do when the hoop-snake comes for you? Go hide behind a tree, like me? Or open wide your arms to turn the other cheek?” “If the ouroboros were comingby itself,” said Billy Bob, “then I would open wide my arms and turn the other cheek. But if there were black-ops Israelis blazing at it with their Uzis, I would hide behind the tree by the authority—right here: "Luke 3, O generation of vipers!Who warned you to flee from wrath to come? Begin not to say, 'Abraham is our father.' For God is able of these stones to raise up children, as an axe to the root of a tree which brings not forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire; “Mark 3, Can Satan cast out Satan?A kingdom divided against itself can't stand; a house divided against itself can't stand; if Satan rises up against himself he meets his end; “John 3, Can a man be born when he is old,enter his mother's womb a second time? And Jesus assured them: 'Verily, verily.'” Mr. John Cantell, By Any Other Name a Bible Teacher Star, smiled brightly at bright Billy Bob, the Mysteries all well within their reach, the term of the Circular Body very nearly— he could feel it— complete. Postmark: Bahcesaray - Muse's Advisory, June 19 - To Zeus from Bahira the Nestorian Monk: Dear Friend, it is a miracle if this reaches you at all and doubly so if the jars are intact but I promised to send this pearl-mullet roe to you and so I must try. They claim our inci kefali is endangered but whose fault is it when they leap right into your creel looking as lovely as rainbow trout—the only fish inhabiting this big salt carbonated lake and noplace else on earth? The fish have their own urges to leap upstream to spawn and we have ours to smear their roe on toast. The abbot says we all are charged with being “prudent stewards of nature.” What a conflict of interest! When God starts putting chow directly in our bellies then we can start leaving these poor creatures alone! In any event it is too late for these particular eggs so just go ahead and enjoy. I've heard many stories of you over the years. It seems you live as Lǐ Bó said “in interesting times.” I often suffer from a little guilt at how luxurious and safe our monk's life is fighting our spiritual struggles while most of the laity can't even fill their cheeks with bread. Praying to lighten other men's hardships is not much of a burden compared to undergoing one's own. But I have a much greater crime to confess than luxury and environmental neglect. Whom can I trust but you? Sit down and open a jar of roe. Pour a full glass of wine. Unfortunately it is Miriam I have wronged. Remember the scroll that I vowed to protect with my life? I sold it. Not for cash. You know me better than that. But a legate showed up from the Vatican and threatened point-blank to shut the monastery down if I didn't give it to him. I asked how the papal apparatus even knew about it and he said the things they know about people like you and me would drop our jaws. “Our new Pope is unusually determined,” he said, “to police Canon Law.” We both know what they will do with it. Their canon is closed and that's that. They won't much like her point of view so you will have to get it back from them. The Archivum Secretum Vaticanum never has been breached but you can do it if anyone can. There is a middle-aged American poet named Tom visiting Nazareth right now. No not Tom Hanks! Why is everything a joke with you? Tom Riordan. Most days you can find him poolside at the Golden Crown pecking at his laptop. He is interested in these scrolls too and might be able to help. Though he has no prior experience with document theft or to tell the truth any valuable skill he is not really doing much of anything else and so maybe he can be of some use. That guy who tried to sell you the mystical votive tablet in the alley yesterday is a former monk and old acquaintance of mine too. He might be able to help also. Unlike Mr. Riordan he has extensive experience in all sorts of sub rosa operations and he owes me a favor. Show him this note and you will be allowed to collect it. I don't know what else to do to make amends but if you and Miriam think of something please don’t hesitate to ask. You know my answer will always be yes. Yours faithfully, Bahira Back in the Hotel - Muse's Advisory, June 20 – Zeus/Miriam: “Who do these fucking Israelis think they are? Do they think I'm a boar to hunt in packs? And how do they jam my transmissions like that? I see now what the Palestinians are up against. And your ex's friend Muhammad is a fucking saint now, yes? It didn't take him long to get my goat, even on my best behavior. I bet your Yusuf put him up to it.” “I doubt it, Zeus. Deviousness is not his style; he's a straight arrow— though you know I prefer lightningbolts, and told him so. Come here, let me put something on that knee. I'd say your Evel Knievel period is over, dear.” “I'm going back to finish what that rat's ass started! If he calls the police again, they're also going to regret it!” “Bruiser, don't get so excited. You scraped your knee but it's your pride that's smarting. We Galileans are a rough-and-tumble lot. You liked that spunk when you were young, the chance to earn sharp spurs yourself.” “I didn't earn them, Miriam, by letting two-bit hustlers get the best of me! That lowlife either spits out an apology or I will drown his fucking bluster in the gutter!” “Zeus, no. We didn't come here for a war.” “I didn't come here to be made an ass of, either.” “We came to put the past behind us, for a fresh start.” “Okay. Okay? I'm sorry I lost my temper in the sweet-shop. Satisfied?” “No I'm not. Come here, you big old lunk, take off that silly robe and let me take a good look to make sure you've got no scratches on your junk.” Through the Cracks - Muse's Advisory, June 21 – Miriam to Zeus: You are obsessed with viewing Yusuf as my ex but he is the man who raised your son too. You'd think you'd be dying to know what he's like but Yeshua's not really a concern, is he, but just one creation among many idly scattered across four millennia, his sole meaning whether he limits you somehow or not. Creative people make very neglectful parents, easy come easy go while those of us who count our inspired moments on one hand hold on too tightly. Add us together and divide by half and then Yeshua gets what he needs, what children all need— confidence. I saw him when I was chasing you or was chasing the cops chasing you. At the moment when you stumbled and went down for the first time, I thought, Is it possible he could get killed? Yeshua hovered before my eyes just as you arose and bounded away. He looked deeply at me and begged in that eerily calm, scary voice, Mom, why is it you're so anxious about me? Pieces of Silver - Muse's Advisory, June 22 – St. Paul to the Margaret Concierge: I'd tell them in the nicest tone, “I wish I could extend your stay. Unfortunately we're booked until the end of June.” I love Zeus dearly as you know, but he's about to blow– and after all your kindnesses I'd hate to see it happen here. The last hotel that got him mad sustained a Force 10 flare-up on the screened deck, and some hapless bellhop's face got stenciled red-and-purple plaid. These pine nuts, by the way, are just divine, the drop of mastic in my bath, finer than fine. At the Bar in the Frank Sinatra Building - Muse's Advisory, June 23 – Zeus to Poseidonas: Women!
attending Mass in her own church— “Just curious,” she said. I said okay: it was the perfect day and hour to catch the hardcore getting started at the Sudfa Bar. Jackpot!
sitting by themselves outside, the pretty barmaid leaning down to serve them their manouche and giving them a peek of boob. Know, Bro? I wouldn't mind a bit of that myself. I made myself look like a Jew, skull cap and payess— those long curlicues?— the kind of mark their kind of scum cannot resist. “Excuse me, gentlemens?” I asked in dreadful Arabic. “Do you know where is the police's station?” O, you should have seen the grins! Better than the barmaid's tit, a yarmulked Jew who was lost! their pinched, hungover heads, looked at each other, nodded one, two, three, and said in unison, “Drop dead!” I grabbed Muhammad's little Arab pizza, sniffed it, spat: “The Prophet's camel shit!” And up they leapt while the whole street watched and cocked their fists. Nobody yelled, “Police!” Nobody lifted a finger to help. Nobody thought two hometown boys would get their noses broken by a Hasid in ringlets. By the time they realized what was what, the pair of racist assholes leaked red rivulets between the cobblestones and I was glaring up and down the alley daring any one or two or three of them to come and do something about it. I heard one old witch whisper to her grandmother, “Zeus.” The thousand-year-old beldam nodded slowly, sadly, and just muttered, “Who else, Khalid's darling girl, who else?” poolside prod, golden crown hotel - muse's advisory, june 24 – thalia to tom: at risk of jeopard izing your journal istic neutral ity oh i forgot you're not a journal ist why don't you stand up put your drink down suck your gut in go to town and lend your char acters a hand what kind of man lets other people mix it up and sits thumb up his ass praying to pull a plum plus
fect ly ridicu lous in that mesh poly leopard speedo and the thin norwegian girl you're o gling is not the least bit interested. Pros & Cons of The Golden Crown - Muse's Advisory, June 25 – Tom: - great view of the valley - large room - petit déjeuner, buffet ricco e vario soprattutto di verdure & sehr ordentlichem koscheren essen - showerhead drips - internet iffy - 450 Israelis from Tel Aviv with sound system installed at pool pounding out bad disco till 4am “Hello, is this the Margaret? May I make a reservation?” Στο δικαστήριό σου ασκώ έφεση, ω Kύρια! - Muse's Advisory, June 26 – At the Front Desk of the Margaret: “Στο δικαστήριό σου ασκώ έφεση, ω Kύρια!” Zeus shouts. “I demand to talk to the manager, Madame!” “ Fuck!” shrieks the cockatoo.“Sir,” says the concierge. “I am the manager.The owner of the property lives in Jerusalem.” “How can you take our room away? Look at these people checking in!” “Their reservations predate your request to stay. I'm sorry. Your initial reservation was two nights. It's taken quite a bit of jockeying to get you four.” “St. Paul. You've been here, listening. Tell me, have you heard Ms. I-Am-the-Manager accept new reservations on the phone since we arrived?” “ Fuck,” pussyfoots the bird. “I wouldn't know.It took six months before I understood your Greek. I did hear some Athenians lamenting, though, they weren't in that big place with the pool.” “Madame,” says Miriam, “I know you tried your best, so we'll accept your invitation to arrange a room for us, at a discounted price, at the Golden Crown.” “Why are you giving in so easily?” Zeus growls. “What difference does it make?
“We didn't come to write a guide to Nazareth hotels! But if we do, this one gets zero stars! I'd like to see these reservations that predated ours. I'd like hear what St. Paul claims he couldn't understand. I'd like to find out who decreed that here in my adopted land I'm treated both by shiftless Ishmaels and this petty two-faced autocrata like Micromégas with herpes, like a deus non grata!” “Madame. Monsieur. Here, look.” The concierge holds out the reservations book. “Don't Monsieur me, Madame Patron!I'll jam that registre right up your con!” “ Zeus!” Miriam objects.“Madame, he only gets like this après un échec du sexe.” Pour Zeus, ce fut la dernière goutte. Bent, fiery lines streamed from his head like an electrified Etch-A-Sketch. St. Paul shrieked, leapt up and almost flew, but tumbled to the floor so pitifully, even the god in meltdown paused and thought to help; thought otherwise; reduced the hotel desk to barbecue. Kazantzákis - Muse's Advisory, June 27 – Terpsichore: The hajji raised his martyr's hut up on the mountain's saddle high above Barbari where King Phocas built a fenced-in town as concentration camp for Arabs who survived the slaughter when the Byzantines took Kastro back. Then the fountain's water ran with blood and old men's tears so bitter, plantar warts dissolved and lice and ticks fled uncombed hair to elope with tortoises. Ten years before, a maid of Phodhele— where citrus orchards lent Doménikos Theotokópoulos the urge to hide an orange-pip inside a virgin's mouth who lay dead drifting toward Charon's shore— first cooked the spiciest mezédes, then danced a mantinadha so erotic the town fountain finally choked and mules cursed God. Margarí's black eyes and lips spat fire while all that night the serious, pale man and future hajji writhed in pain from dolor calor rubor et tumentia brought, as Kelsos wrote, on men who breathe too deeply Kríti's daughters. Distant & Not So Distant Drums - Muse's Advisory, June 28 – Thalia: Here trudges Tom with his plaid cloth sack, here Zeus and Miriam with chic black dry-bags from Cabela's, along the littered hem of Marj ibn Amer's mirage-ribboned asphalt. Like tourists everywhere, they ask each other for directions. “May I ask,” Zeus adds, “exactly when you called and made your reservation?” “ Stop, Zeus!” Miriam objects.“Did you say Zeus?” says Tom.“What's it to you?” the god demands. “My name is Tom. I'm here, in part, because your daughter—“ “ Daughter?”“—Muse? Euterpe?—”“ Ah,” says Miriam.“—said I might find you here. What luck! What were the odds? So you are Miriam! Euterpe let me see your diary. Incredible.”“I'm in no mood,” says Zeus, “though somebody I trust told me to look for you as well. He wants the three of us to break into the Vatican and steal her goddam diary back, à la episode 16 of Alias."“Sounds dangerous. Why not as told to—dictate everything to me again? Then I'll upload it all to Google Docs. No pope can stick his nose in there.”“Look, yo, it's hot as balls out here,” moans Zeus. “What say we meet and talk at your hotel, once we get settled in? The Margaret, yes: that hill—you see? The Golden Crown, you say, straight this way, and turn left?”“Then one bitch of a schlep up to the crest.” “Long as it gets us there! We stopped to ask directions twice, and twice got dicked around. The locals spit on out-of-towners, and that Margaret concierge—” “—Sweetheart, don't get yourself worked up again! We've bigger fish to fry.” “You fry what fish you want. I've got a beef or two to pick.” Directory: files files -> Answer True False 2 points Question 2 files -> Integer programming and game theory files -> 4 Integer Programming files -> Bpa vehicle Window Repair Scenario #1 task: Procure vehicle window relacement. Objective files -> Pop Warner History files -> North Carolina Inclusion Initiative Mapping Where Children with ieps are Being Served Purpose files -> Fall 2013 Spring 2014 Program Data: Standard 1 Exhibit 4d files -> Hanban – asia society confucius classrooms network 2010 request for proposal files -> Northern England’s set-jetting locations Download 1.87 Mb. Share with your friends:
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