The Muse's Advisory typed & spellchecked by Tom Riordan
Pathetic - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 1 – Tom at The Concord Carriage bar
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- Prólogos (1938) - Muses Advisory, Aug. 2 – Tom
- Good Cop, Bad Cop - Muses Advisory, Aug. 4
- Check this box to agree: ☑
- And Then, Book Two...I Want to Cut My Wrists! - Muses Advisory, Aug. 5 – Urania
- Of This World - Muses Advisory, Aug. 7 – Yeshua, Salt Lake City
- The Awakening - Muses Advisory, Aug. 8 – Zeus
- Sweetheart of the Rodeo - Muses Advisory, Aug. 9 – Miriam
- Smokehouse (cont.d) - Muses Advisory, Aug. 10 – Block Captain, Fulton Heights Neighborhood Watch
- The Scriptler - Muses Advisory, Aug. 11 – John Cantell at his desktop, midnight
- Wife - Muses Advisory, Aug. 12 – Elizabeth/John Cantell
- God Goes On...and On - Muses Advisory, Aug. 13 – In the late night Recycle Bin
Pathetic - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 1 – Tom at The Concord Carriage bar: Yeah, I'm a poet—epic, really— struggling, though. This poem is dead. Not mouth to mouth, nor lips to ear, nor even Rose of Sharon's leaking breast to lips can bring it round— it's past the point where it can lift its chin. I ought to turn this laptop off right now, head down to Meredith and have a skinnydip. That usually works— the second I jump in, new inspiration hits, the cooled-down scalp supplies the mental vim for me to soldier on until it's time to go to bed. Or I could simply hit Delete and throw it in— admit Yeshua's nothing more or less than Christians claim, his mother Miriam a humble saint, and Zeus an obsolete, co-opted figment recently out-eyebrowed by Dame Edith Hamilton, out-romeo'd by Wilt the Stilt, reduced to cadging petits four from lily-fingered Classicists. You know? But that's all psychological defense, perhaps—
are nuts too tough to crack without a thoroughgoing bludgeoning. The self-help literature on writer's block advances other therapeutic saws— I ought to get out more— spend time with friends— go hiking— glide my fingertips along the cool cheeks of brook-polished stones— sign up to feed the poor— raise money to end genocide. That thrills the dull blood! That puts spring back into the step! Lifts up the johnny of Jack Sparrow! Do you think he's sexy, Depp? It's obvious I need something a little stiffer than a drink. I sent my poor son off today— yeah, I'm a single dad— with just a box of Cheese-Its for his lunch. The school nurse and the secretary looked askance— my little Timmy rolled his eyes— so many ways to mortify a child. So I sympathize with poor Yeshua in my book— his mom behaving like a giddy coed who has just discovered guys— Zeus, lost his motherfucking mind, plus hair like Einstein with his finger in the power socket of the universe— it couldn't be much worse— a misfit youngster dying to blend in with greasy-haired and horny not-quite-solid friends who hook their index fingers round the lips of beers like that young cowboy over there— and think it's macho to dismiss dismissive girls with obscene sneers. With all Yeshua tried to do for us, he missed the boat as far as having fun— no parable on to how to break the ice with steamy numbers like yourself in dim-lit country western bars like this. Self-help can only go so far— sometimes what's needed is a helping hand— wink, wink— an open mouth, as Herbert wrote, that doesn't sing— or even more. You haven't said one thing— or laughed— or even cracked a sliver of a smile. So— I take that as a no. I reckon that's a sign I'd better go— before the milk of your forbearance sours— that glower of contempt turns into rage and plants a mallet in my gong, like when a tin-eared fool went on too long on The Major Bowes Amateur Hour. Prólogos (1938) - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 2 – Tom: Engaging Homer with his own massive Odyssey sequel, Kazantzakis invited poets to think big. "Fellow craftsmen, seize your oars!” he cried. In my mirth when it arrived, I misplaced it, then spent hours rummaging to and fro like a shrew who'd lost track of which generation – breeding, laboring, or suckling – she was. When I found it, Yes! I want to wield these oars with as much skill as I can, before the narwhal skewers them to hang around winter's neck – then the boat, adrift – and its occupant. woodcut - muse's advisory, aug. 3 – laërtes to odysséas: not the ghastly scar planted by the tine a beaten boar's tusk but thirteen pear trees ten apple and forty fig trees entreat a heart-dead father to tearfully recollect his lost son Good Cop, Bad Cop - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 4 - Calliope: Taking inspiration from a fellow oarsman
We muses offer personalization, fresh inspiration tailored to your own oar's inclination, a 50%-off special on connotative caesura and full-color brochure on sylleptic chiaroscuro. Urania: Tom, you infringe Line 3 of Terms and Conditions
1 I hereby agree to be bound by Terms and Conditions that apply; indemnify 2 and hold harmless the Muses; certify that all Material resulting from use of our 3 inspirations is original and not previously attributed to any other causal entity; 4 grant the non-exclusive, irrevocable, world-wide, perpetual, royalty-free 5 (including moral) rights to copy, translate, publish, or disclose resultant 6 Material in any form now known or hereafter developed without limitation, 7 obligation of notice, or compensation; to affirm that the Muses make no 8 representations or guarantees whatsoever about the accuracy, reliability, 9 completeness, or timeliness of their Material or results obtained from the use 10 of said Material, provided on an as-is and as-available basis without warranty 11 express or implied, and entirely at my own risk. In no event are the Muses 12 liable for any damages incidental and consequential, including lost profits 13 resulting from “”writer's block” or any use or inability to use the Material, 14 whether such claim is based in contract, tort, intellectual property, or other 15 legal theory. If dissatisfied with the Muses' Materials or the Terms and 16 Conditions governing Use, the sole and exclusive remedy is to discontinue 17 use of such Materials. I acknowledge that any Material offered by Muses may 18 be offensive, indecent, otherwise objectionable, or inappropriate for minors; 19 Muses recommend careful supervision of your children at all times, and make 20 no claim that their Materials are suitable for any purpose or for any audience. Check this box to agree: ☑ You bristle at the legalese—fine print? You think this kind of contract violates your precious First Amendment? Who inspired your Cretan hero? Did his genius spring sui generis from heat-lightning in his brain? Kazantzakis spun a lot of theories, but pull back the egotistic curtain— Hildr, Göndul, Hlökk, Mist, Skögul, Hrund, Eir, Hrist and Skuld in Snorri Sturluson's list— we Poetry Valkyries dictate whose thumbs prize the button-mushroom cork—et pop!— and whose parched lips shall never slurp the jubilant champagnes of literary fame. You didn't think us iron-fisted? thought us easy-going, tame? pale aesthetes of the ethersphere? Here's how your “freedom of expression” operates: the publishers and editors are equally suggestible as writers are to what a little birdy whispers in their ear. And Then, Book Two...I Want to Cut My Wrists! - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 5 – Urania: “The next night by the fireside, when the great bronze gates of the castle closed, and slaves and cattle slept, Odysséas told the long tale of his suffering slowly...” It's another forty lines before the hero starts, while Kazantzakis even makes us listen to his gas! A chimp with a 50-cent blue Bic could trim this 24-book snoozefest down to 700 lines– but not your Níkos Narkissistís! At any Reader who survives the preamble, Odysséas launches his far deadlier ramble: “At the far ends of the world, on noble feasting boards..." Honestly, don't force me to continue. "...the lyre rises, greets the lords, and sings to the wind...” rushō muse's advisory aug 6 – thalia: old monk stuck on line daydreaming snow-melt stream banana peel chi Of This World - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 7 – Yeshua, Salt Lake City: This is where I was born to live. Dilapidated houses in the hills
and I, the latest to arrive, my heart with still enough dried blood on it to draw a second gaze from curs whose business licking weepy sores has been recession proof here in America's great open pore. I ask the seedy bartender if Paiute and Shoshone, or the Donner Party, ever stop in for a drink. He smiles at me, another Jesus looking for old friends. There's so much love, enough to see how wealth is amity's enemy. I get a room in seven seconds flat— no references, security deposit, work. They know my story inside out. Did you want to pay a little extra for a daily meal? We have some interesting discussions over bread. Will you be wanting access to the internet? TV? It's all I can do to not start blubbering, not throw my arms around their necks, these keepers of Jesuses, saints. Who knew the world would only want their myths but lack the strength to love the boys themselves? The Awakening - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 8 – Zeus: Just when I thought I had it figured out, I woke one day ablaze to run a smokehouse like this place I stopped in Kansas City— beef ribs, psychedelic hot-spice-salty crust, with quarts of iced limeade— I pissed a torrent that could choke a horse and felt alive, unclogged, free of malaise! At long last giddy with divinity I had a dream of flesh purveyors bowing down, salaam, of wood guys kissing butt to sell 100 cords, of chili pepper, lime, and paper-napkin guys, a squadron of hair-net waitresses and brisket-crazed phalanx of fressers led by ravening, hard-core Miriam. No one raises their hand or voice against a man who knows his way around a BBQ. George Foreman, Colonel Sanders, Frank Perdue— I get it, finally. The high-flown ode of praise inspires awe. The supernatural loop-de-loop is great. But what folks really idolize and open up their purses for is meat. Sweetheart of the Rodeo - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 9 – Miriam: I had a man who felt he wasn't good enough and one who thought himself a million bucks. Why did it take so long to find the type who knows he's trash and doesn't give a fuck? Oh yeah! Ya- hoo! This Western love is fun!First, I'm a lady. Next, I'm tunneled like a whore. Then when the sun comes up, the cowboy gentleman who knows there's cotton on his teeth dog-burgles the back door. The tender hand is fine, but such a cost.I'm not bone china that will chip if some stud's teacup bumps my lip. I can take it. I can dish it out. Shit's shit. Tonight my sweetheart of the rodeo's a lanky thing named Henry Foulks— half lit already when he picked me up, the other half by six CC & Cokes between slow dances to the croaking of a country lizard at the Concord Coach. To hell with life, was Henry's pickup line, but it was in my bed when I woke up. Smokehouse (cont.'d) - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 10 – Block Captain, Fulton Heights Neighborhood Watch: That's raaght, Cured Meats Championships was right here in Grand Rapids, an' we don't got no smokehouse! Now, you kin drive west 15 mile on the Gerald Ford, an' you kin drive north 15 mile up 131, an' you can drive south 15 mile right down Broadmoor Avenue— git all the smokehouse that you want— but here in this town, no you can't. So's far as you're concerned 'bout openin' a new place up,
jus' don' steam good folks up, don' call your place no smartass name like Pigger On the Woodpile, nothin' smartypants like that. You seem to be some kinda Greek, nobody care 'bout that, but don't go oversteppin'. Folks real sensitive 'bout that. So you go on an' stick with meat. Don' get too cozy with minorities an' you jus' watch this town roll that red carpet out. The Scriptler - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 11 – John Cantell at his desktop, midnight: God says, I've kept silent. I've been told not to reveal another word about myself. But to whom exactly did I promise that? Those moonstruck apostles dreamt it up. God says, Whoever put the idea in my head that they could run Salvation in my stead? Was I lost in the clouds, exhausted, drinking? I can't imagine what it was I was thinking. God says, All my faithful abbesses, abdals, acolytes, almoners, archbishops, ayatollahs, beadles, bishops, bonzes, brahmins, caloyers, canonesses, capitulars, cardinals, cenobites, chaplains, confessors, conventuals, curés, deaconesses, deans, dervishes, diocesans, divines, druids, ecclesiarchs, elders, fakirs, fathers, friars, gurus, hadjis, hierophants, imams, incumbents, kohens, lamas, levites, mendicants, metropolitans, ministers, missionaries, monks, monsignors, muezzins, muftis, mullahs, novices, nuns, padres, palmers, parsons, pastors, patriarchs, penitentiaries, pilgrims, pontiffs, preachers, prebendaries, predicants, presbyters, priests, primates, prioresses, prophets, rabbis, rectors, residentiaries, reverends, revivalists, sacristans, santons, scholastics, sextons, sheiks, sisters, suffragans, sufis, talapoins, templars, ulama, vergers, vicars, votaries— God says, Thank you, all of you are fired. I shall take over all your functions Myself from here on in, employing Omnipotence. You will all receive a severance package. God says, Generous job retraining benefits and family medical coverage are included. I appreciate all of your service but I want to try some hands-on micro management. God says, This is not my final revelation. I am going to communicate regularly now. From here on in, theists and atheists alike will hear things from The Horse's Mouth! God says, I know many of you are thinking, “Not so fast, Abernathy! Is this really God speaking or some other crackpot charlatan?” I actually applaud that kind of skepticism. No, you can't demote or depose Me for not conforming to your requirements of “God.” Omnipotent, I can be/do anything I please. God says, I will mount a demonstration one month from today, to give all of you a deeper understanding of what I'm like. Then I'll take questions for half an hour. Wife - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 12 – Elizabeth/John Cantell: “Don't get obsessed with that. Remember when Ted Pendergast joined up that klatsch of poets at Christ Church? Pat almost didn't get him back.” “Don't fret, Elizabeth. It's God's work I'm engaged in.” “You can't come to bed, John? God won't be upset. It's after ten.” “You go ahead. I'll be a little while yet.” “At least put on the sweater vest I knitted you so you don't catch your death.” “Christ said, No man hath left his wife for my sake but that both of them got hundredfold. Here now, let's have a kiss.” “The good Lord's long suit isn't wives. A hundredfold of what? Whose bed is strong enough for that?” “I like it when you joke but I don't want to lose track of my train of thought. Sleep tight, Elizabeth. The minute that I'm finished, I'll come in.” God Goes On...and On - Muse's Advisory, Aug. 13 – In the late night Recycle Bin: God says, Seeing Me fries the minds of half my prophets, and the rest go hot-assing down the mountain just when I'm getting going. I'll tell you exactly what I have in mind. God says, I created the scientific principles that underpin the universe, including 'bad things happen to good people.' Quantum randomness is the prime law of metaphysics too. He says, Whenever those laws of physics seem defective, I will change them, but I cannot do that in your universe without it ending. So I'll adjust them in my next universe. He says, The law of unintended consequences isn't mine. It's the limit of my Omniscience and Omnipotence. I don't know who created it. For example, importing poison toads, He says, into Australia to prey on the sugar cane beetles eating the cane crop?—big backfire! Turns out, sugar cane monoculture isn't a fit habitat for toads. Other places are, He says. So they disperse into the wild and start killing off the millions of quoll, goanna, and snakes who prey on them, causing a devastating continent-wide ecological ripple effect. He says, As far as the an afterlife goes, I might be of more help there very soon, as theologians have been predicting. I hope to purify physical resurrection from random effects. He says, The trick is to let decayed corpses stay where they are, but resurrect a true copy of those bodies inside a universe designed with more malleable laws of aging. He says, I will implement it as soon as I work it all out, so that a Second Coming—not of Me, of you—will occur. It will be extremely cool, I think. I'm just dotting the i' s. He says, That should end the perennial questions about whether I care about human beings or not. Remember, I could be doing any number of things with my evenings. He says, Once I have clearly demonstrated the scope of my general awesomeness as promised in another 29 days, I will expect more praise, love—the whole megillah. It is, He says, lonely, thirsty work I do! I have needs as infinite as my glory and mercy. That's why I've agreed to answer questions afterward. I'm tired of all those lingering doubts. He says, Once everybody is satisfied that I am Who I say I am and am working hard to do what I say I want to do, there'll be no excuses left for anyone to still be ungrateful. He says, Still, ingratitude will remain your right. I will not differentiate between people who raise pleasing hosannas and those who continue to grumble like dirt all day long. He says, When that resurrection day comes, you will stay exactly the same as you are. If you are a grumpy-puss now, you will still be a grumpy-puss, only in a happier universe. He says, So essentially, my whole message for today is: Try to get a smile on your face now, while you still can, despite all of the random stuff going wrong in your life, He says, because there is nothing I'll be able to do about your permanent frown lines in the new improved world where you'll end up living for an unimaginably long time. 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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