The Critic of Arabia
“Not tragical!” said the reader to the monster who wrote the story.
“Fine!” said the monster. “Keeping babies in the cellar with the potatoes is not tragic all at.”
“Not in the least,” said the reader. “Everyone likes potatoes.”
“I will tell you about love,” said the monster. People like stories about love. They are among the most popular kinds of stories.
“If it isn’t tragical,” said the reader, “I will cry my eyes out.”
“That’s horrifying,” said the monster.
Coming in 2015:
The artificial dividing line between artificially drawn time segments is nigh.
“Neigh!” said the horse, who was a well-known neigh-sayer.
And that is the news. Straight from the horse’s mouth.
I like to see Betty wise up and take control of the situation. Yes, she is taking too much grief and here I can understand the violence while not necessarily condoning it. Now, this, on the other hand, is modern dance. It is damn near ballet. Kind of a sock hop ballet.
“Oh,” said the reader. “That story was hardly tragic at all.”
“It was well disguised,” said the monster who wrote the story.
“Hmph! Now I shan’t be able to sleep!” said the reader.
“See,” said the monster. “The effect of tragedy is insidious. This is how you know it.”
The reader slept a fitful and nightmare infused sleep.
Coming in 2015:
When a dog hears another dog it responds with a hearty round of reciprocal barking.
This is an unbroken chain, as long as there is a dog to answer the call and response.
It is akin to the human game of telephone.
One message is passed on continuously, dog to dog to dog.
The message starts in China, like the flu.
In the fall one dog barks.
It is heard ’round the world.
It is understood only by dogs.
It is an urgent message, spread urgently.
When it gets to the end, it no longer has any meaning.