Having my way with Ulysses

The problem of the sacerdotal integrity of Jesus circumcised.

• Ithaca

Reach down. A lil mo. So. Draw back your glave. Hot and hairy, hugon, is your hand! Here's where the falskin begins. Smoos as an infams.Holy Mother Public Relations, Inc.
10th Heaven, Empyrean
Meeting Minutes

Date: November 29th
Time: 2:28 am
Location: 10th Heaven Empyrean building: Mary’s office. Also the hallway outside of Mary’s office between her office and the toilet.
Purpose: Crisis mode. Damage control. Situation analysis. Family meeting.


Attendees: Holy Mary: Mother of God, Mother of Christ, Mother of the Church, Mother of divine grace, Mother most amiable, Mother most admirable, Mother of good counsel, Mother of our Creator, Mother of our Savior, Virgin most merciful, Mirror of justice, Cause of our joy, Refuge of sinners, Comforter of the afflicted, Queen of Confessors, Queen of the family, Queen of Peace, and Queen most forgiving. Also Jesus, Martha, and Joseph.

Agenda:

1. Damage control full crisis mode.

2. Find out if what we have here is an actual crisis or just a situation we can handle like others we no longer speak of (e.g.: Lost track of Jesus’ physical location when he was twelve years old. Got him back, though. Eventually. Also: virginity).

Discussion:

1. Jesus stated that although Martha lives here now, does she have to be here for this? Martha pointed out that somebody has to hold back Mary’s hair when she pukes, which could be any time now. Both then were silent, contemplating the other in both mirrors of the reciprocal flesh of theirhisnothers fellowfaces. Jesus welcomed Martha to stay and help in whatever capacity she likes.

2. Mary says we stole the damn thing a long time ago. Is there somewhere she can lie down or something? Jesus said it was stolen again. Mary wants to know why Jesus didn’t just get rid of the damn thing, it was only a bit of dried prune under all that crystal and gold. Jesus said he thought it was pretty. It reminds him of the ultimate mortality of fruit.

3. Topic: if people discover that the divine prepuce, the carnal bridal ring of the holy Roman catholic apostolic church, conserved in Calcata Rome until we stole it, that the divine shrunken dried up scrap we shoved into that little jar is actually made from an old plum and is not the foreskin of an eight day old boy, we might be facing a game changing crisis of faith we haven’t seen since the Reformation. Ideas floated: steal it back; uphold the excommunication of anybody who speaks of (and we should add onto that: even thinks about) the holy foreskin; immediate circumcision of Jesus and let’s get a new little jar to put it in. The thieves might have the fake, but we can produce the real thing whenever we like. Jesus says no we cannot produce the real thing whenever we like.

4. Mary can’t remember who was the mohel who circumcised Jesus? Maybe we should call him in here. Joseph suggests if Mary wasn’t so obliterated drunk right now she’d remember. And if she didn’t insist on hiring her drinking buddies for everything then maybe we would have had a decent mohel who would have finished the job in the first place. Somebody union even. Martha suggested Joseph focus on his duties. Jesus considered turning Mary’s water into wine.

5. Martha wants to know how it is nobody noticed that Jesus was never circumcised. Joseph said who looked? They never had to change his diapers. He was the perfect baby. So cute too. Quiet. Slept through the night. A good eater. Never cried. Took care of himself, really. Terrible two’s were a holy bitch, but he was such a perfect baby.

Action Items:

1. Somebody make coffee. We need Mary a bit closer to sober for this. Martha? Joseph to make coffee.

2. Martha suggested we not turn this thing into a bigger crisis than is necessary. We must analyze the situation as it evolves and we absolutely cannot be the first ones to signal that we think this is a crisis. It might not be a crisis, just a situation. We cannot look like we are on the defensive in any way. Perhaps we should perform the circumcision ourselves? Mohelim can’t keep secrets. Jesus to clean spot on floor where he just vomited. Also, Mary could use a clean up while you are at it.

3. Martha suggested we never lie to the public about this. We can, however, consider honest misstatements. For example, we might tell everybody that the real foreskin ascended bodily to heaven, but got stuck around Saturn on the way. Joseph to compile a list from Martha’s dictation of possible honest misstatements to be used as talking points. Joseph will check Mary’s schedule and compile a list of possible public appearances she can make on Jesus’ behalf: we think Mary will want herself out front on this so the kid won’t screw it up. Martha to monitor Mary’s fitness for public events as her current ability to get her shit together seems dubious.

4. Jesus to get immediate circumcision so we can produce physical proof if necessary. Jesus first to research the problems of irritability, tumescence, rigidity, reactivity, dimension, sanitariness, pilosity, and degree of severity of ongoing crisis (possibly just a situation and not a crisis) before anybody even thinks of coming at him with a knife.

5. Martha to sharpen a knife.

6. Joseph to get Matthew in here for consultation re: financial impact of crisis. Possibly still just a situation and not yet a crisis. And for Christ’s sake, let’s keep the stockholders in the dark as long as we can. Joseph to contact Thomas Moore’s assistant re: Moore’s schedule asap. We need a lawyer on this.

7. We think Mary said we must be the ones in constant control of the flow and formulation of public opinion. Hard to understand her from the toilet with all that hair in her face. Maybe nobody will care that the relic was never real. Get some people on all the other major relics, can’t have people opening those boxes too: Christ knows what they might find. Joseph to deploy guardian angels to Thomas Aquinas’ skull , Augustine’s elbow, all of the true crosses, and the piece of Jesus’ foreskin in Coulombs Abbey, France. Tell them to take their flaming swords with them.

8. Martha suggested we remain calm. These things sometimes burn out faster than shooting stars.

Minutes typed by: Joseph
Approved by: Martha

 
 
 

The mystical finesse involved was a bit out of his sublunary depth.

• Eumaeus

Ready the bone wax. Metzenbaum scissors. Get that cat out of here. Ready to close.
1:25 am

Jesus: [With a smile of unbelief] Dad, not to sound too pompous but your soul implantation technique is unsurpassed and will probably make your name live beyond eternity.

God: Probably?

Jesus: Too wishy washy. Forget the probably. Are you ready to close?

God: Not until after the breath of life, this is no simple soul. Well it is, but you know what I mean.

Jesus: I shouldn’t think simple is the proper word.

God: No? Give me a little sweat on my upper lip. Ok remove sweat. No no, the soul is simple, it has no contrary, and corruption is found only where there is contrariety. And since it is the recipient of my life giving breath, well.

Jesus: Goes without saying.

God: Exactly.

Jesus: Still, no one can give what he hasn’t got. I believe you are supernatural!

God: None of that, now, everything aspires to being after its own manner. Come to think of it, we might want to revise that into holy writ. Sounds good, no? Get some monks on that. Here, help me stuff the soul into there.

Jesus: Like that?

God: No, put your back into it. Good.

Jesus: Maybe we should say a few words to the soul before we close?

God: Good idea. In Dillman’s Grove my love did die and now in ground shall ever lie. None could ere replace her visage, until your face brought thoughts of kissage. Right. Good? Ready to close. 10 blade scalpel. Sponge stick. Scat! Damn cats around here. Cranial screw top. Check for stripping. Now all we can do is wait.

A Honeymoon in the Hand

• Scylla and Charybdis

Now, it is clear from what we have said that it is impossible for human felicity to consist in bodily pleasures, the chief of which are those of food and sex.2:54 pm

I called upon the bard Kinch at his summer residence and found him deep in the study of the Summa contra Gentiles in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, the coalquay whore.  The house itself boasts an excellent prospect well situated adjacent to several acres of bountiful woods and rolling hillsides.  Wandering the gardens with Fresh Nelly and Rosalie in a blueribboned hat one cannot help but fancy himself a pleased Bottom stroked by beautiful Titania, or even a mischievous Puck a laugh tripping over his lips as he frolics with the delightful nymphs and fairies of the forest.  To my great delight our party grew in number very shortly after my arrival to include the distinguished man of letters Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, who spent much of his time in Kinch’s well-appointed library.  However, the most diverting of the company proved to be a company of players including Toby Tostoff (a ruined Pole), Crab (a bushranger), Mother Grogan, and two young medical students Dick and Davy sporting newbarbered, wellkempt heads.  That evening we danced within the ballroom’s pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined, to the dulcet tones of the ladies’ song who entertained into the night with sweetly varying voices, mopping and chanting with waving graceful arms.  The evenings entertainments so inspired Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell that he favored us with a parable which I quote inexactly from memory:

Fresh Nelly was eating grapes in the park when, Medical Dick, an extremely well-endowed young man, introduced himself to her.  He invited her to go for a ride in a taxi-cab on the floor of which they did something Fresh Nelly had never done before.  After they had done it several times in different ways, Medical Dick suggested that Fresh Nelly tidy up at the home of his aunt, Lady Rosalie, who welcomed them with great cordiality.  Lady Rosalie led Fresh Nelly to her boudoir where she requested the girl to perform a rather surprising service.  Downstairs the three of them played a most amusing game of Medical Dick’s own invention called “Thumbfumble.”  They then sat down to a sumptuous tea.  After he had finished the washing-up, Toby Tostoff, the butler, an unusually well-informed man of middle age, joined them for another frolic.  Medical Dick and Lady Rosalie had little difficulty in persuading Fresh Nelly to spend a few days with them.  In the interval before dinner she perused an album of instructive chromolithographs entitled, ‘Die Sieben und Dreibig Wollufte’ which Lady Rosalie had thoughtfully set out.  Colonel Crab and his wife Mother Grogan came in after dinner; both of them had wooden legs, with which they could do all sorts of entertaining tricks.  The evening was a huge success, in spite of someone fainting from time to time.  Fresh Nelly, quite exhausted, was helped to bed by Lady Rosalie’s French maid, Titania, whom she found delightfully sympathetic.  The next morning she was wakened in a novel fashion by Lady Rosalie in time for elevenses.  Looking out the window she saw Medical Dick, Toby Tostoff, and Bottom, the gardener, an exceptionally well-made youth, disporting themselves on the lawn.  They were soon joined by Medical Davy, Medical Dick’s singularly well-favoured sheepdog, and many were the giggles and barks that came from the shrubbery.  They called up to Fresh Nelly, who, having put on an ingeniously constructed bathing slip, met them in the pool.

Indeed as I relate this first part of Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell’s most inspirational tale I find myself growing extremely flushed and ardently fear I must stop lest I shall be overcome and my memory fail me in ways ruinous to the spirit of the tale.  I believe the story ended with this charming couplet which reminds us rather delightfully of the apt advice professed by the great oracle of Delphi to know thyself:

Being afraid to marry on earth
They masturbated for all they were worth. 
 

 

 

Delectatio Morosa

• Proteus

I was a lamb among the holy flock that Dominic leads on the path where one may fatten well if one does not stray off. 11:40 am

No, not morose as in gloomy or sullen.  Morose from moror, a delay in time.  Not up on your Latin?  Keep in mind that one of my usual attributes is that of angels beating people about the head with my books.  Study up, you don’t want a particularly large copy of Summa Theologica crashing down on your skull.  And those copies the angels use — they are illuminated!  Heavy.  So is pleasure subject to time?  This is what I was getting at and the answer is yes and no.  It is and it isn’t.  You see?  Because The Philosopher says delight is a kind of movement, and all movement is in time, pleasure is subject to time.  But he also says that no one takes pleasure in time, so it is not subject to time.  Both.  How can this be you ask?  Careful, the angels are hovering.  I see a particularly weak armed one too struggling with an oversized edition of The Summa Contra Gentiles.  Pleasure of itself is not in time, because it not a movement, but if this pleasure be subject to change, then it will be in time accidentally.  So what delights you?  That will be the thing to make the difference.  If it is a good obtained, it will not be in time, but if there is movement of the imperfect in your pleasure, then, well, it is subject to time.  And there we get into sin.  The more morose, the more mortal the sin.  Does that help?  Do you need a good whack in the head with a book?  Would you enjoy a whackin the head with a book?  Careful with your answer, the angels are listening.  Ay me.  I’m hungry.  You know, delectation denotes a movement of the appetitive power.  Could use a little wine too.  I am a touch purple now from wine, did you know that?  They boiled me in it to render my fat from my bones.  They had to, I was too corpulent to be moved, so they transformed me into a more portable form.  I hope they drank some wine themselves, after the job they had trying to get me down the stairs and then the more difficult job of dislodging me from the staircase.  Hard to accomplish that with proper dignity.  Ultimately they broke open a window and dropped me down.  Did no harm to my bones, my flesh was ample enough to break the fall.  I wonder what they did with my rendered fat?  Light a candle, will you, it’s dark in here.