"The act of naming is a sacred, magical act. To name is to know, to understand, to control. This was true of the pre-literate people who first 'named' animals by painting them on cave walls, and it's true today of scientists who name 'new' stars and particles. Things lacking names cannot be thought of, and so cannot be communicated to others, analyzed, redefined, or even ignored. They just aren't, as Orwell made clear in his novel 1984 when he depicted a totalitarian society which controlled people's behavior by steadily diminishing their vocabularies. To name is, in a very real sense, to wield God-like power; to learn a name is to set off down the pathway to divine omniscience." - Preface to "Untitled" by Anonymous
After a lot of thought and a bit of tequila (or a bit of thought and a lot of gin - I really can't recall) I've decided this sorry excuse for a diary needs a real name. Unable to come up with anything like that, I've decided to settle for "Almost A Jester's Journal: Boneless Blather Written Mainly To Please My Cat."
Question:
So,
what was it called before?
Answer:
I have no idea. You might try asking your parents, your teachers,
your spouses, or any of the barking heads on "Crossfire." They seem
to know everything.
Question:
So, why is it called "Almost A Jester's Journal"? Why not
just "A Jester's Journal"? Huh? Answer me that!
Answering
You That: It's called "Almost A Jester's Journal" because I consider
myself almost a Jester. Jester, you see, is the name of my cat.
Although I'm not my cat, I almost am by virtue of our sharing the same
tight little space. We've lived together (yes, in sin) for
over 6 months now, so I'm more "almost him" than almost anybody
else. And thus entitled to entitle this here work what I now have:
"Almost A Jester's Journal."
Question:
So, like, why don't you call it "Dan's Journal" instead? Or even
"Deb's Journal." Wouldn't that be, like, easier or something?
Why are you defining yourself via your feline co-habitant?
Answer:
A couple reasons. First, I'm convinced my cat exists because
I can lick his eyeballs, whereas I cannot lick my own eyeballs and
therefore logically have no choice but to doubt my own existence - hardly
a firm enough basis on which to base a personal diary. Second, my
cat has far more friends than I do and I hope the title will sucker these
obviously easy-to-confuse animals into reading it, or at least into inadvertently
boosting my counter count. Third -
Question:
Wait a minute. You've given how many reasons already?
Answer:
Two. Third, you might ask "Why don't you just call it 'A Jester's
Journal'? Your cat's friends will be too stupid to notice the difference
and no one else will likely give a shit."
Question:
Yeah. Thanks, man - I was really having trouble coming up with
another question.
Answer:
Right. Anyway, "A Jester's Journal" might indeed fool his friends
but it would be immoral. Jester, besides being the name of
my cat, just happens to be the ancient and quite sacred title given to
a professional (or holy) fool who's sublimely goofy enough to entertain
professional royalty (also known as wholly fools). If there's one
thing I'm insisting on in this journal, it's total honesty, and I just
don't think I could live with myself if I tried to pass myself off as a
real Jester. On my best days I guess I might kinda be almost
a Jester. But I'll never know, 'cause every time I've thought about
going and taking the almost-a-Jester test, I feel a pressure on my head,
I hear a ringing in my ears, and I fall down.
Question:
Might be the hat, man. And them funny elf shoes.
Answer:
Hey, save it for when you're the Answer and I'm the Question,
OK?
Question:
Yeah, whatever. You know, for a dude who might not even, like,
exist, you sure do talk too much.
Answer:
Well, you're not being so very quiet yourself considering you're the
rhetorical counter-voice of a guy who might not exist.
Question:
Hey, man, stop playing with my head already!
Answer:
With gusto.
Question:
Just one more, like, thing. What the heck is Boneless Blather?
Is that slang for some street drug I ain't heard of or something, and if
so, where can I get some?
Answer:
Blather is pointless, nonsensical chatter which - in case you
haven't noticed behind those heavy shades - is exactly what this diary
is. Ergo, Boneless Blather is pointless, nonsensical chatter
without any bones. I can't guarantee my readers much, but I can guarantee
them this: Each and every entry has been expertly filleted, deboned, and
minced three different ways for their reading safety. If they're
really determined to get a rib or a skull caught in their mind, they'll
just have to go elsewhere - I'm sorry.
Question:
You're playing with my head again, aren't you, man?
Answer:
Hey, better me - a guy who might not even exist - than the real world.
Question:
Oooo, heavy!
Answer:
Now stop licking
my cat's eyeballs and get the hell out of my journal.
Question:
Just one more thing.
Answer:
No.
Question:
What do you mean by that bullshit about you're writing this "mainly
to entertain my cat.". Your cat reads??
Answer:
No. (See - I was way ahead of you. One of the perks of being
the writer.)
Question:
Care to elaborate?
Answer:
No, but I will just because I need the exercise. In writing this
I'm mainly pleasing my cat by staying out of his way as he rips up the
house.
Question:
Woo-hoooo! Can I rip up your house next, man?!
Answer:
Sure. Just get the hell out of my journal.
Question:
With gusto!
Answer:
Finally! Now I can note the other reason I named this "Almost
A Jester's Journal" instead of "A Jester's Journal" before I forget.
(Pause
For Answer To Look Quickly To The Right And The Left.)
Answer:
To appear higher in Yahoo's alphabetized list
of online journals.
Question:
You sleaze!
Answer:
What? Where are you??
Question:
I'd tell you, man, but I'd be talking over your head - heehee!
Answer:
Come down here! Come down here right now and give me your name!!
Question:
Sorry, man - gotta go help my new friend, Jess, claw a couch.
Answer:
DOH!
(All Material Not An Obvious
Rip-Off Of Some Other Aspect Of Western Civilization © 1999 by Dan
Birtcher)
