I Think It's A Metaphor

Today is Cantate, the fourth Sunday after Easter, so named because...well, you know. Here is the first line of the Gregorian introit for the day, from Wikipedia. Where they got it, I do not know. The theme of the day is something to do with the joy of singing.



The Old Ivy Bach Chorale performs the J.S.Bach cantata BWV 108 Es ist euch gut, daß ich hingehe, which translates to "It is good that I leave." Zack sings the bass aria, Mrs. Dowager sings the alto arias and one of the ringers sings the tenor recitatives. Emily does not bother to ask what the text of this cantata has to do with the joy of singing.

Back in Beauneville, Mr. Smiley, Clotilde and little Alexander attend services at the Church of Irony. Before the service, Clotilde takes Alexander to Sunday School and leaves him with Mrs. Ripper, the preschool teacher. "Say goodbye to Mommy, Alexander," says Mrs. Ripper. "You may never see her again."

According to the bulletin, today's sermon is When Everything Is Ironic, Nothing Is Ironic. Mr. Smiley looks forward to something deep. However, at the appointed time in the program, Mr. Feckless simply tells a few jokes and juggles three red balls.

Meanwhile, Megan has decided to scrap the first chapter of her book and start again. She writes:

The brook. Nice, lovely brook. Nice, lovely, gurgling brook full of water. Wet water. Lovely wet water. Nice, lovely gurgling brook full of lovely wet water. Nice lovely brook gurgles forth from mountain spring and gurgles and gurgles and gurgles and gurgles and gurgles and gurgles through the nice lovely countryside. Nice lovely countryside with a lovely green dell through which the nice lovely brook gurgles and gurgles and gurgles.

Wagner's musical style suits Megan's literary bent.

Flowers. Pretty flowers. Pretty flowers in the dell through which the nice lovely brook full of lovely wet water gurgles. And blackberry bushes, loaded with plump, juicy, yummy black blackberries. And a pile of gold.

Three bunnies frolic and gambol in the dell, by the brook, near the blackberries, amidst the flowers and around the pile of gold. Their names are Flipsy, Flopsy and Fellatia..

Megan pauses. No, she thinks. That won't work.

Their names are Flipsy, Flopsy and Cottontail.

Flipsy: What's this gold doing here?

Flopsy: Shut up, I'm frolicking.

Cottontail: Big Daddy Bunny left it here. We're supposed to protect it from thieves.

Flipsy: That's stupid. We're just bunnies.

Cottontail: Don't worry, Big Daddy put a spell on it.

Flipsy: What kind of spell?

Flopsy (in mid-gambol): Will you two keep it down? I'm trying to focus.

Cottontail: Anyone who forges a ring from the gold will rule the world...

Flipsy: Oh, well I feel so much better.

Cottontail: ...but everyone will hate them.

Flopsy (stops frolicking): How do you know that?

Cottontail (pointing): It says so on this little sign.

Albert, a big fat ugly black bunny enters.

Albert: Who's up for sex?

Megan pauses, and smiles. She likes that line.

Flopsy: Sir, this is a children's book.

Flipsy: Also, you're ugly.

Albert: Well, if sex is out of the picture I'll just take this gold and be off.

Flipsy: You can't take that gold, it's special.

Albert: What's so special about it?

Cottontail (reading aloud): 'He who forges a ring from this gold shall rule the world...'

Flipsy: Shut up, you're just encouraging him.

Albert (reaching for the gold): Well, in that case...

Cottontail: '...but will be hated by all."

Albert (filling a sack with the gold(: What do I care, everyone hates me anyway.

Flipsy and Cottontail: Alas!

Albert: Well, I'm off! I shall forge a ring, rule the world and work my evil ends! (Exits)

Flopsy: Good riddance, creep. And who cares about the gold, we're bunnies, what would we do with it?

Flipsy: I think it's a metaphor.

Cottontail: We must go to Big Daddy and warn him. (Exeunt)

With Chapter One in the can, Megan joins the others at the Old Ivy Inn for lunch. Emily is there as well. She's thinking it must be over with Zack, as he did not fondle her buttocks today.

Not That There's Anything Wrong With That

Today is Jubilate Sunday, so named because the first line of the Introit for the Mass of the day is Jubilate Deo omnis terra ("Everyone shout to God with joy"). Roderick thinks he senses a pattern to the naming of Sundays in the liturgical year.

The cantata for the day is J.S. Bach's Cantata BWV 12 Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen (which translates as Weeping, Lamenting, Worrying, Fearing). The Old Ivy Bach Chorale gathers in the chapel before the service to warm up. As Mr. Mendelssohn steps to the podium, Emily Scharf raises her hand.

"Yes, Miss Scharf?" Mr. Mendelssohn hopes that Emily isn't planning to talk about what happened in the office last Tuesday. It was a spur of the moment thing, purely spontaneous passion. And the velvet handcuffs are just for play.

"Um, why is the cantata for the day about weeping and stuff when we're supposed to shout with joy?"

"Miss Scharf, we simply don't ask such questions at Old Ivy College." Some of the other members of the Chorale give Emily a look -- the kind where you know they're thinking shut up, Emily. Zack squeezes her buttocks.

Meanwhile, in Beauneville, the Smileys attend the Children's Service at the Church of Irony. Today's sermon is The Easter Bunny Skipped Your House On Purpose, You Miserable Brats.

Megan skips chapel this morning to write. She has recently discovered Der Ring des Nibelungen and, feeling that it better suits her exquisitely refined good taste than Pride and Prejudice, she has decided to dump Jane Austen for Richard Wagner. Hearing that Children's Books can sell, she has set out on a project to rewrite the Ring in the manner of Beatrix Potter.

Once upon a time, in a lovely dell with a lovely brook there lived three bunnies named Flipsy, Flopsy and Flutunia. There, in the dell, by the brook, the three bunnies frolicked and gamboled amidst the flowers, trees and a pile of gold.

"Oh, lovely flowers," said Flipsy.

"Oh, lovely trees," said Flopsy.

"Oh, lovely pile of gold," said Flutunia.

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask," said Flipsy, in mid-frolic. "Who left this pile of gold here?"

Flopsy stopped gamboling long enough to answer: "King Votan put it here. We're supposed to protect it."

"That's stupid" said Flutunia. "We're just bunnies, what are we going to protect it from?"

"Oh, lovely flowers," said Flipsy.

At that moment, a large ugly black wolf appeared. "Hey, bunnies!" he grunted. "Who wants to have sex?"

"We mustn't do that," said Flipsy. "This is a children's story."

"Besides," said Flopsy, "inter-species breeding is kind of disgusting."

"And you're ugly," said Flutunia.

The wolf sighs. "Yes, I know it. I've always been ugly. I'm Albert the Wolf, maybe you've heard of me?"

The bunnies frolicked and gamboled.

"Well," said Albert, "if sex is out of the question, I'll just take this gold and be on my way."

"You can't take that gold," said Flipsy. "It belongs to King Votan."

Albert looks around. "King Votan? Is he here?"

"No, he left it here for us to protect."

"You're just bunnies. What's going to stop me from taking this gold?"

"Well," said Flutunia, "if you take the gold everyone will hate you forever."

"They hate me anyway, so who cares."

"If you make a ring out of the gold," said Flipsy, "you will rule the world."

Flopsy slapped Flipsy with her paw. "Shut up, already. You're just encouraging him."

"Ha ha!" said Albert, as he grabbed the gold and stuffed it into his duffel bag. "I shall forge a ring from this gold, rule the world and seek revenge against King Votan!" With that, he slipped back into the woods.

And the bunnies were sad.

Having finished the first chapter, Megan joins the others for brunch at the Old Ivy Inn, where the topic of discussion is Jane Austen. "Jane Austen was a lesbian", declares Megan. "Not that there's anything wrong with that.

The Lamb of God is Tasty

Today is Misericordias Domini, the second Sunday after Easter, also known as the Feast of Our Lady Mother of the Good Shepherd. At Saint Cecilia Chapel, the Old Ivy Bach Chorale performs the Bach Cantata BWV 104 Du Hirte Israel, Höre, (which translates as You Shepherd of Israel, Hear). One of the ringers sings the Tenor solo and Zack sings the Bass solo. There are no solos for women in this cantata, so Zack fondles Emily's buttocks during the opening Chorale.

Mr. Fribble of the Theology faculty delivers the inspirational message, the title of which is Lamb of God: Tasty when Roasted and Served with Mint Jelly and Garlic Sauce.

He begins by reading the text for the day, the pericope of the Good Shepherd from the Book of John:

I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep.

But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth: and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep.

The hireling fleeth, because he is an hireling, and careth not for the sheep.

I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine.

As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father: and I lay down my life for the sheep.

And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd.

Mr. Fribble closes the Bible and addresses the congregation. "In these verses, Jesus gives us some great advice. First, if you want something done right, do it yourself. If you hire some dude to watch the sheep and a wolf shows up, he's just going to scram his ass out of there. What does he care? They're your sheep, not his.

"Unless, of course, you can hire Jesus to watch the sheep because he's really good at watching sheep. But you can't, because he died a couple of thousand years ago. And yes, I know he was resurrected, but he's just not available for jobs like sheep-watching. It's like what Mrs. Fribble says about finding good domestic help. A good cleaning lady is hard to find, and they don't do windows."

He pauses to sip from a glass of water.

"The other point is that if you're going to watch the sheep, carry a large gun, because wolves are badass motherfuckers.

"For more detail, buy my book, The Bible: Good News and Good Advice. It's 19.99 on Amazon, or if you come and see me in my office you can have a signed copy for $29.99."

Roderick makes a mental note to check it out on Amazon. He figures that Mr. Fribble's signature isn't worth ten dollars.

After the service, Roderick, Molly, Megan, Anna, Zack, Emily and the two tenors stroll over to the Old Ivy Inn for Sunday brunch. Today, the subject of discussion is History.

While chewing on a bite of omelet, Roderick wonders: "Why doesn't anyone ever talk about the good things Hitler did?"

Anna, who is beautifully dressed in a spring floral outfit, sips her tea. "Possibly because he was a genocidal dictator and demagogue who launched a program of murder directed against Jews."

Megan chimes in. "And the Romany. Hitler killed the Romany, too." Megan is up on Romany facts.

"And the Poles," says Emily.

One of the tenors speaks up. "Hitler killed homosexuals, too."

"Also," says Anna, "Hitler launched a war leading to the death and displacement of millions plus widespread destruction from the Atlantic to the Volga."

Roderick frowns. "Yes, yes, yes" he says. "But I mean, aside from all that."

The Church of Irony

Just past midnight Clotilde, on her way to the kitchen for a warm pickle snack, bumps into Mr. Smiley. "Mr. Smiley!" she blurts. (Mr. Smiley and Clotilde are married just a few years and not yet on a first-name basis). "You startled me!"

"Sorry!" says Mr. Smiley, shifting from one leg to the other.

"Why are you standing here?"

"Just waiting for Roderick to call." Mr. Smiley has a cell phone, but when at home prefers to use the land line in the hallway, the black one with the rotary dial.

"It's kind of late, maybe you should come to bed."

Mr. Smiley puckers and rolls his eyes the way he always does when conflicted. "He said he would call tonight..." He stands on one leg and rubs his foot. "My feet are kind of tired."

In the morning, the Smileys decide to attend services at the Church of Irony, where everything said and done is ironic. Today's sermon: Everything is Predictable.

Mr. Feckless, the minister, speaks from the lectern: "You are all worthless morons and God hates you!"

"Amen, brother!" says the congregation.

Miss Prurient rises to sing the hymn for the day Jesus is A Picture on the Wall.

After the service, Miss Honeysucker serves coffee and doughnuts in the lobby.

"This coffee is swill," says one congregant.

Mr. Smiley sips his coffee, tentatively. He doesn't ordinarily drink coffee, but it seems impolite to shun the proffered beverage. "It seems OK to me," he whispers to Clotilde, who nods silently while nursing Alexander. To the other congregants, Alexander seems a little old to be nursing, but Smileys tend to spoil their young. It gets a little problematic when the brats grow teeth, but Smiley mothers soldier on. Smiley "Child Learning Centers" -- known elsewhere as "Day Care" -- have regular "Mom Breaks" when the mothers troop in to feed the little tykes.

"These doughnuts really suck," says another congregant. Miss Honeysucker beams.

Mr. Smiley takes a sugar doughnut and nibbles on it. It's quite tasty, so he takes another bite, and then another until nothing remains. "Yummy!" he says out loud. "That was delicious!"

"Get lost, creep," says Miss Honeysucker.

Alexander having finished his mid-morning feed, Clotilde tucks her boob back into her dirndl and holds him in her lap. A congregant approaches. "What an ugly child! Is he retarded?"

"Um..." says Clotilde.

"I'm Madge," says the congregant. "And this is my husband Herbert. He's a worthless husband who doesn't earn very much and has erectile disfunction." She gestures to the man standing next to her. who beams.

"Is this your first visit to our Church?" he inquires. "If so, please make it your last because we don't need more stupid ugly people like you."

Madge smiles. "Henry is on the Welcoming Committee," she whispers to Clotilde. "Knock off the hard sell, stupid," she says to Herbert.

Mr. Feckless, the minister, takes Mr. Smiley aside. "With a face like yours," he says, "I'm guessing you have no friends."

"Um..." says Mr. Smiley.

"Well, stay away from the Church of Irony. There's no place here for people with no money or connections."

Mr. Smiley starts to tell Mr. Feckless that he does have money, but then remembers he's in the Church of Irony so he just smiles.

Roderick calls that evening. "Sorry I didn't call last night Mr. Smiley," he says. "Emily Scharf and Megan Cupcake both wanted sex at the same time and I had to extricate myself from a delicate situation."

Mr. Smiley pretends he didn't hear that last sentence. "We went to the Church of Irony this morning."

"How was it?"

"It was nice." Mr. Smiley pauses. "It occurs to me, though that when everything is ironic nothing is ironic."

"That's really deep."

Mr. Smiley doesn't understand what Roderick means by that, so he just smiles.