Chapter 6: "The Scriptures Do Not Lie"

The MORONIC CHRONICLES
CHAPTER ONE

Original page from The Moronic Chronicles, courtesy of Moronville Chamber of Commerce

5 Which, unfortunately for Bä•Däz, is exactly what transpired when Mä•Mä got wind of his scheme for organizing a neo Patriarchal countercoup & sentenced him "To be taken forthwith to the Outermost Edge of My Heavenly Realm & pushed over it so that thereafter he will spend the rest of his miserable immortality^mc1 tumbling endlessly through the dreaded Black & Bottomless Abyss of Extracelestial Space."

6 Hence was Bä•Däz dragged kicking & screaming to the Outermost Edge of Heaven where Mä•Mä's you'llwishyou weredead sentence was carried out with much joy & jubilation by a PushingParty comprised of the goddesses & goddettes he had treated like so many "sex toys" during his Archangelship.

7 And, as he hurtled halo over heels downward it seemed to Bä•Däz that an eternity had indeed passed since he began his nightmarish plunge into the dreaded Black & Bottomless Abyss of Extracelestial Space.

8 But as fate (& the laws of gravity) would have it, in point of fact his "eternal" damnation lasted considerably less than a coon's age when the freefall he was in came to a (more or less) screeching halt by the crust of that "planetary object" Dä•Dä created shortly before His dethronement—& whose presence in what was thought to be the dreaded Black & Bottomless Abyss of Extracelestial Space Bä•Däz (& everyone else in Heaven) had completely forgotten about in the turmoil associated with establishing Mä•Mä's New Celestial SocioCultural Order.

[The intervening Chapters & Verses concern themselves (rather tediously) with the details of how Mä•Mä and Her AllGirl Band of Carrie Nationlike Crusaders turned the celestial equivalent of Sodom & Gomorrah (or our Roaring '20s) into "a kinder and gentler world" where Dä•Dä's patriarchal powerlunches, golfing gettogethers and stagparties were replaced by "genderless" kaffeeklatsches, social teas and aprés théâtre soirées. Over all of which "civilized activities" Mä•Mä presided as "Heaven's most Heavenly Hostess."  Not simply because of Her Royal Rank but by virtue of Her wit, charm, elegance and, above all, "a beauty so dazzling in its perfection no one would even think of challenging Her Divine Right to SocioCultural Preeminence."  We will pick up the story roughly 500 years (or exactly 73 "coon's ages") later when a pair of stormclouds were beginning to appear on Mä•Mä's hitherto unobstructed horizon—M.G.]

CHAPTER NINETEEN

HAVING RECENTLY CELEBRATED Her 1,000th birthday it was no surprise (to anyone but Her) that Mä•Mä was beginning to look Her age—an ugly state of affairs made even uglier because it was Her own daughters, the beautiful Goddettes (appropriately) named Kÿz•Mëé & Læ•Mëé, who were stealing Her Celestial Thunder, sexappealwise.

2 All of Mä•Mä's previous schemes for banishing Kÿz•Mëé & Læ•Mëé to the remotest corners of Her Heavenly Realm only resulted in calling everyone's attention to their absence.

3 And, to make matters even worse, many of those She thought were Her closest friends & most ardent admirers found some flimsy excuse or other for also having themselves declared "persona non grata" in order to continue their forbidden socializing with the exiled Goddettes.

4 Accordingly Mä•Mä decided a more drastic course of action was needed for removing Her rivals from the Royal Socio Cultural Scene. But translating that desire into reality was easier hoped for than done, even for someone with all of Her (supposedly) Omnipotent Powers.

5 Of all people^mc2 it was Dä•Dä who came to Her Royal rescue when He suddenly remembered having created the Earth. And, while His reasons for doing so in the first place escaped Him now, its "strategic" location well beyond Heaven's Outermost Edge seemed like the ideal solution to Mä•Mä's problem.

6 "Why don't We send Kÿz•Mëé & Læ•Mëé‘ down to that longlost planet of mine until they learn to behave themselves like proper little Goddettes?" He asked Mä•Mä. "That way none of their admirers can reach them without first falling into the Dreaded Bottomless Abyss of ExtraCelestial Space.

7 Mä•Mä thought Dä•Dä's "bright idea" was one worth pursuing. But, like any mother—even a jealous one—She expressed Her concerns about "sending My precious babies to a place so far from home I won't be able to keep a watchful eye on them. Besides which," She continued, "who knows what kind of place this socalled 'Earth' of yours has become after all these years of neglect? While I agree Kÿz•Mëé & Læ•Mëé must be taught a lesson I don't want their punishment to be so painful &/or degrading it leaves them permanently traumatized."

8 Mä•Mä went on at some considerable length about protecting Her daughters' welfare while they were being "grounded." But Dä•Dä didn't need much persuading.

9 "I have no objections to making an inspection tour of Earth," He said. "As a matter of fact, I'm more than just a little curious to see what—if anything—has happened there since My experiments in creating a noncelestial paradise completely from scratch ended so prematurely."

[No less than 11 chapters are devoted to what occasionally became a heated discussion over the remark Dä•Dä made about the premature ending of his creativity experiments. Which Mä•Mä construed as a notso subtle attack on Her Matriarchal Regime for its deemphasis on "projects of dubious sociocultural value—a category into which the creation of another paradise obviously belonged, since the present one was still perfectly adequate for all reasonable (and legitimate) purposes.  While we have more important things to do than eavesdrop on what is essentially a family quarrel despite the "divinity" of its participants, it is worthy of noting how modern these ancient storytellers were in their treatment of what has become the burning issue of our own times, namely: Is sexual equality a contradiction in terms, or can women pump iron, deliver mail, drive 18wheelers, curse like sailors, swill beer directly from the bottle, fly jet fighters, tell dirty jokes and run the government (if not the universe) without losing their femininity?—M.G.]

CHAPTER FORTY

BEFORE EMBARKING ON HIS trip to Earth Dä•Dä spent a week of Sundays working out the details of exactly how He would get there from Heaven. In accordance with the homily about familiarity breeding contempt—and the Theological Axiom that: A God's authority increases with the distance separating Him from those over whom He seeks to exercise it—all of Dä•Dä's previous "contacts" with the inhabitants of Earth had been strictly telepathic in nature.

2 In addition to which His scientific advisors needed some time to ponder what astrophysical problems, if any, they had to solve before Dä•Dä took what would be His (or anyone else's) inaugural plunge into the mysterious realm of space travel. By virtue of His Omnipotence Dä•Dä was theoretically capable of doing anything He wanted to do. But since no Deity had ever attempted such a feat (for the very good reason that before the Earth was created space was thought to be nothing but a vast emptiness)—and because it's better to be safe than sorry—these scientists designed a special Propulsion & RetroRocket Assembly (PARRA) to strap onto Dä•Dä's back in the event His Willpower proved insufficient for the Earthward journey &/or a soft landing thereon.

3 Nor were the Royal Tailors idle during these preparations for what became known as "The Big Liftoff."  Dä•Dä's normally casual attire^mc3  was replaced by "a truly majestic ensemble" consisting of: a solid gold, diamondstudded crown; erminetrimmed robes of the royalest possible purple, lavishly emblazoned with heraldic motifs, astrological signs & occult symbols; footwear handcrafted from the finest leather; a sterling silver scepter & multifaceted crystal orb whose refracted light was blindingly brilliant, & lastly; a small black velvet bag in which to keep the tricks (and trinkets) He might need for convincing any terrestrial skeptics He was in fact The Supremest Of All Beings.

4 Mä•Mä expressed the opinion Dä•Dä's "socalled 'new sartorial splendor' was ostentatious to the point of being downright vulgar."

5 The Royal Tailors argued (respectfully but firmly) "that in matters of state & church one simply cannot underestimate the public's infatuation with pomposity & circumstance." This dispute was subsequently settled in Mä•Mä 's favor when the greater part of Dä•Dä's regalia—most notably the scepter & orb (to free His hands for working the PARRA controls should that prove necessary)—was scrapped for "aerodynamic reasons."

6 The Royal Barbershop added its finishing tonsorial touches to Dä•Dä's "King Of Kings" makeover^mc4 by disguising His cleancut and -shaven look (then in vogue among the Most Solid of Heaven's Citizenry) with a wig and beard whose long snowwhite locks shook with every toss of its wearer's head like the mane of a stallion in stud, a lion asserting his jungle sovereignty—or a very old wiseman whose autocratic fuse was manifestly short when it came to tolerating the foolishness of those who questioned the infallibility of his opinion on every subject from Aardvarks to Zymurgy.

7 Worried over the damage to His &/or Her Theological Prestige that might result if Dä•Dä's Great Leap Forward turned out to be a Colossal Flop, Mä•Mä had some second thoughts about what was planned to be a Gala Event.

8 "I think," She said, "it would be wiser if we handled this affair as a strictly private one, attended only by those with an absolute need to be there in what I fear will be the likely event something goes wrong."

CHAPTER FORTYONE

AS IT HAPPENED, HOWEVER, Dä•Dä's Great Leap was a roaring success. Only a minute or 2 after launching Himself from Heaven's Outermost Edge (with, according to those who saw it, "a dive not unlike that of a swan") He became nothing more than a speck of astral dust glowing fainter & fainter against the pitch black background of the Bottomless Void.

2 Not that Dä•Dä didn't experience some difficulties adjusting to the novelty of space flight. After surviving a nasty attack of vertigo & (more or less) mastering at least the basic astronautical skills He turned His attention to what was becoming a matter of the most urgent concern, namely: How does one set a course for Earth when there are no navigational aids by which to do so?^mc5 

3 Fortunately for Dä•Dä the "educated guess" of the Celestial Academicians that He would be "automatically drawn Earthward by the attraction of its mass"^mc6  proved to be valid. The closer Dä•Dä got to Earth the faster He did in fact fall directly toward it.

4 With the result that suddenly He found Himself faced with the paradoxical problem of making a soft landing at what was all too rapidly becoming a breakneck rate of descent.

5 At that pregnant point, however, Dä•Dä was—as it soon turned out, pleasantly—surprised to see a smaller planetary object circling its way around the Earth. And, while He couldn't remember creating it—or imagine what possible purpose such a seemingly superfluous satellite could originally have had—it occurred to Him now that He might take advantage of its smaller mass (& hence its reduced gravitational field) to attempt a "test" landing under conditions far more favorable than those He would encounter on the Earth itself.

6 Moreover, the fact its circular orbit seemed to somehow neutralize the effects of Earth's pull gave Him the additional bright idea of adjusting His "bullseye" trajectory in such a way as to slowly spiral His way down for the kind of hit the ground running technique used by some charioteers when alighting from their vehicles before they come to a complete halt.^mc7

[After executing a reasonably safe lunar landing—along with some minor cuts, scrapes and contusions he sprained an ankle—Dä•Dä spent a fortnight (or "weekend of Sundays") nursing his wounds, congratulating himself "for having made it this far in one piece" and planning the final leg of his journey. Utilizing the astronautical expertise he gained from flying through "countless stonethrows of space by the seat of his loincloth" he had little difficulty launching himself from the moon and achieving the same kind of downwardly spiraling orbit around the earth which had worked so well for his soft lunar landing. As he circled the earth Dä•Dä was profoundly impressed by all the changes to its surface that apparently took place since he created it in terms that were sketchy at best (if the Book of Genesis is any guide—which I for one think it is) and utterly lacking in specificity as to such geological features as: (a) The number and whereabouts of the continents—information that would have saved us all the time and trouble we went to in discovering them; (b) that inclined axis of rotation responsible for the seasonal changes north & south of the equator; (c) volcanoes; (d) glaciers; (e) the jet stream with its meteorological consequences, and; (f) those plate tectonics making the ground beneath our feet much less solid than it seems. Not to mention "minor" matters like the Grand Canyon, Amazon Basin, Rocky, Alps, Andes & Himalayan Mountains, the Sahara & Gobi deserts, polar ice caps, etc.

    According to the Moronic chroniclers "Dä•Dä became so enthralled by what were for Him the type of scenic wonders one never saw in a celestial topography that, because of its ethereal nature, couldn't have been duller geologicallyspeaking that He lost track of His altitude; which had been reduced to such a low level He was in imminent danger of smashing into the Purple Mountains which were now directly in His flight/crash path. And that, dear reader, is where we now resume our story.]

CHAPTER FIFTYFIVE

BUT AS FATE WOULD HAVE IT—& just in the nick of time—Dä•Dä saw what looked like a flat strip of meadow land on which some deer &/or antelope were grazing. As the only open space between the suicidally tall timbers of what the Crêtns now call their National Forest & the even more insurmountable obstacle of those skyhigh Purple Mountains He hoped & prayed (to Himself of course) it would be long enough for an "emergency landing."

2 Which it was.^jp1

3 And so it happened that Dä•Dä successfully completed His maiden voyage to Earth. Only by the skin of His teeth, however, & with no small help from those retrorockets strapped to His back.

4 Even more significantly, the "meadow" He thought He saw was in fact the soggy remnant of that Garden Spot where our ancestors lived in the Perfect Bliss of their Pristine Ignorance before Dä•Dä Himself turned its fertile soil into "a salt marsh whose bitter grass only cattle would find edible!" to punish us for a sin the Crêtns committed.^jb1

5 So deeply did Dä•Dä's heels dig themselves into that spongy soil when He made His crash landing they left a pair of perfectly parallel grooves that remain to this day as those Sacred Skidmarks which, since they predate our newlyinnovated fourwheel turnipwagon not only prove their extraterrestrial origin but provide us with the physical evidence distinguishing these Chronicles from all other socalled "inspired religious writings" (ie, the Cretins' Gospel of Gospels, the Imbeciles' Testament of Testaments & the Simpletons' Story of Stories) as the original One & Only Authentic Book of Divinely Revealed Truth.

6 Not surprisingly Dä•Dä's sudden &, to say the least, dramatic appearance on the salt marsh scene, so terrified the deer & antelope peacefully grazing on it they fled in panic from what must have seemed to them like some fiendish new bird of prey.

7 As a result of which Dä•Dä was left utterly alone as He pondered how close He'd come to colliding with the solid wall of granite looming less than the distance one can spit in a stiff wind from where He now sat collecting His thoughts.

8 While it felt like an eternity to Him, the silence following His brush with death^mc8 lasted less than the time it takes to drop one of those proverbial "hats" we Morons use when indicating the shortest possible period in a chain of chronological events.

9 The chorus of barking, growling, hissing, snarling & yapping sounds that suddenly distracted Him from His meditations were unlike any Dä•Dä ever heard before. But He had a very strong hunch they spelled trouble with a capital—if not a fully illuminated—"T."

10 It didn't take long before His "worst case scenario" suspicions were confirmed when, from the corner of His eye, He saw some doglike^mc9 creatures emerge from the forest & slowly advance in His direction with what seemed to be a well orchestrated gameplan to surround Him—for reasons He couldn't fully fathom but whose nature was, in His unspoken words, "palpably ominous!"

11 What Dä•Dä found most perplexing was why His "obviously benign intentions" were being greeted with such a hostilelooking reception?

12 The answer to which question was, of course, that: In the Grand Ecological Scheme of Things by which He Himself put them at the top of the food chain (along with bears, lions & sabertooth tigers) it shouldn't have come as a surprise that a pack of ravenous timberwolves were hiding at the forest's edge to make a meal of those deer &/or antelope fattening themselves so enticingly on the marsh before they were stampeded by that crash landing of His.

13 Given the lack of open killinggrounds in the forest for which the "pack attack" strategy was ideally suited, even at the best of times the life of a timberwolf was a lean & hungry one. And what made the marsh even more precious to the wolfpack was that: Despite the obvious perils involved, the herbivores (who normally did their grazing in the densest parts of the forest) were lured to this dangerously treeless expanse by their dietary need for the salt & other minerals found only in those "bitter grasses" Dä•Dä (inadvertently) condemned them to crave when He put his curse on the oncefertile soil of the Garden Spot.

14 As a matter of ecological fact, so finelytuned was Dä•Dä's Symbiotic Masterplan that if 1 or 2 of those surplus deer &/or antelope hadn't been culled by this pack of timberwolves at that particular point in time it might have permanently upset the always precarious balance between the meateaters & those born to be eaten by them.

15 Looking at Dä•Dä's predicament from the timberwolves' perspective: Since He was the one who spoiled their lunch of venison it was not only fair but morally imperative for them to make a meal of Him.^mc10 

CHAPTER FIFTYSIX

REALIZING HE COULDN'T continue sitting with His knees up on that soggy turf in what were hardly the most dignified or—more importantly—aweinspiring circumstances, Dä•Dä rose to His feet & stood as tall as He possibly could in a pose calculated to impress those "mangy curs" with the full extent of His majesty. The effect of which was enhanced— despite the wear & tear it suffered during what was a scorching encounter with the Earth's atmosphere—not to mention the mud thrown up when skidding across the marsh—by a Royal Regalia made that much more splendid when seen against such a totally rusticated backdrop.

2 And although the timberwolves had never seen a Crêtn rise to such lofty heights^mc11or dressed in anything but the scruffy animal pelts (some of which once belonged to their kith &/or kin) they wore to compensate for their ridiculous lack of any builtin protection against the elements; so driven were they by a hunger that made them fearless even in the face of one as "terrible" as that now being shown them, they pressed on with their dogged determination to slowly but surely shrink the diameter of the circle in which Dä•Dä stood.

3 Extending His open palms straight out in a gesture whose "Stop in the Name of the Law" meaning couldn't have been plainer produced no better result.

4 Nor did His admonitions to "Halt!" "Sit!" & "Play Dead!"—orders which were heeded without so much as a whine or whimper by the Heavenly relatives of these hellish hounds.

5 As a last verbal resort Dä•Dä issued the following Commandments in the sternest tone of voice He could muster: (a) Thou shalt return forthwith to that forest from whence thou hast cometh; (b) Thou shalt not crave the flesh of thy Divine Master; (c) If thou crosseth this line I am now circumscribing with the toe of My winged boot in this soft soil thou willst surely suffer the torments of eternal damnation; (d) On the other hand—if thou dost behave thyselves by obeying these Commandments, some arrangements might be made to permanently ameliorate the harsher aspects of a situation in which thou art not always the masters of thine own fate & can therefore be excused for these impious designs thou hast upon Me.

6 None of which "Commandments" produced any effect on the timberwolves.

7 With no other options available, Dä•Dä reached into His Bag of Tricks &, for starters, unleashed a veritable blitzkrieg of electrical storm effects intended to surround Him with an "impenetrable curtain of lethal lightningbolts."

8 Unfortunately for Him the kind of pinpoint precision required to achieve such a perfectly symmetrical configuration was beyond Dä•Dä's control. (As a matter of parenthetic fact, a few of those stray lightningbolts drove the timberwolves closer to Dä•Dä than they were otherwise prepared to come at that juncture.)

9 And, in the final analysis, Dä•Dä had to admit the timberwolves probably mistook the "tempest" He conjured up from thin air as nothing more than another of Mother Nature's meteorological whims that just happened to coincide with the terminal phase of their homicidal gameplan.

10 The sudden total solar eclipse Dä•Dä created next proved to be even more counterproductive when it left Him at a significant disadvantage in the darkness vis-a-vis the timberwolves' superior sense of smell.

11 After rectifying this nearly fatal mistake—& with not enough time to incubate a plague, manufacture some other pestilence or even burn a bush (had there been one to torch)—Dä•Dä tried to buy His assailants off with the kind of brightlycolored glass beads, assorted trinkets & cheap novelties which are occasionally more efficacious than the most virtuosic miraclemaking feats for winning the hearts & minds of the unsophisticated.

12 When this ploy also fell flatter than a pancake & with the leader of the wolfpack so close He could feel—& smell!—the beast's hot breath there was nothing for Dä•Dä to do but that which any lesser being does when facing certain death, namely: Put His Hands over His eyes &—while hoping & praying it won't—wait for the worst to happen.

13 Once again an eternity seemed to pass while Dä•Dä held His breath & prepared Himself for what He presumed would be that first stab of excruciating pain when the wolfpack leader sank his yellow fangs into His lillywhite throat.

CHAPTER FIFTYSEVEN

WHEN NOTHING CONTINUED to happen^mg1 Dä•Dä's curiosity became so unendurable He couldn't resist opening His eyes. Whereupon the spectacle which greeted them couldn't have been more welcome—or amazing! There at His feet lay the wolfpack leader writhing in the final throes of an agonizing death caused by a single arrow that had pierced his evil heart at what must have been the very moment he was poised to sink his foul fangs into Dä•Dä's neck.

2 Moreover, this dramatic event had apparently so traumatized the other timberwolves they fled in panic for, with the exception of their now mortally wounded leader, once again Dä•Dä found Himself alone on the marsh—to wonder why & how His prayers had been answered so miraculously.

3 And—even more puzzling—who could have been responsible for such a remarkable act of marksmanship? Reconstructing the events which must have transpired while His eyes were tightly shut Dä•Dä estimated the fatal arrow had passed within less than an inch of His own ribcage on its way toward penetrating the timberwolf's heart!

4 Fortunately these mysteries (which Dä•Dä was finding extremely difficult to unravel) were solved when He noticed a group of "humanlike" figures approaching from the forest.

5 "Could it really be," He asked Himself, "these wretched creatures are the descendants of that 'man' I made in Mine own Divine image?"

6 "If so," He mused as they came closer, "they aren't exactly what I had in mind when I did so!"

7 Dä•Dä's reasons for entertaining some serious reservations about the "divine" origin of what He presumed was His "welcoming committee" were predicated on the fact (not that He knew it at the time) these longarmed, short, bandyylegged & flatfaced beings who looked more like apes than men were, of course, our archest enemies, the Crêtns.

8 Added to such visually observable Crêtn characteristics as: the foolish grins they wear on their idiotic faces no matter how solemn a situation might be; the rude sounds emanating from every orifice in their loathsome bodies, &: the shocking state of their personal hygiene is, of course, that overpowering stench of fresh fecal matter, stale urine, a lifetime's sweat & pervasive griminess in which they take so much racial pride.^mc12

9 Whatever misgivings Dä•Dä still had concerning their obnoxious appearance & repulsive odor it was plain from the bows they carried He owed His salvation to these "humanoids." And, accordingly, He decided to give them the benefit of any doubts He might still have about the seminal role He Himself played in their paternity.

CHAPTER FIFTYEIGHT

HENCE DÄ•DÄ GREETED THE CRÊTNS with His most heartfelt gratitude, saying unto them: "What can I say unto thee, My children, except that your Heavenly Father will never forget this act of Good Samaritanship?"

2 Being barely conversant in their own socalled "language"—which to this day still consists for the most part of grunts, groans, wheezing, whistles, burps, lip farts, coughing, throatclearing & belching sounds—the Crêtns couldn't comprehend a single word of what Dä•Dä was telling them in Gibberish—which, before the Stairway to the Stars Fiasco,^mg2 was the Cosmic Lingua Franca.

3 When the Crêtns didn't respond to His more than gracious overture with some suitably humble expression of reverence, Dä•Dä repeated Himself in every language He was familiar with. And when this also failed to produce the desired result He resorted to imitating the signs & gestures He'd seen them exchanging among themselves (rather rudely) as He spake unto them.

4 Wherefore did Dä•Dä point to His long white hair & flowing beard; & to His crown & purple robes & winged boots; & thence to the sky; & finally to those deep skidmarks left in the marsh by His crash landing. All of which gestures were meant to indicate His Exalted Status & the Historic Nature of the journey He'd made to their distant part of His universe.

5 Judging from the way the Crêtns poked each other in the ribs with their elbows, doubled over with laughter & imitated every one of His gestures, Dä•Dä got the impression He was failing to communicate with them.

6 Not knowing what else to do He went on beating His empty head against this invisible but bricklike wall of Crêtn incomprehension. And, as He did so, Dä•Dä noticed every time He touched His crown the Cretins responded by making the sound "Rah" which He eventually decided might be their word for "crown," or "king."^jp2

7 Similarly, when Dä•Dä pointed to Himself His Crêtnous audience invariably cried out what sounded like "mârõõn" or "mûrân" or "mørn"—all of which kept ringing like a bell inside His brain until He remembered Mørn was the name Ådûmb & Œfê had chosen for their firstborn son—& Crêtn for his accursed sibling!

8 Suddenly Dä•Dä's memory was refreshed & He began to recall everything connected with His old "Earthcreating" days —especially how He turned the Garden Spot into what could be the very salt marsh on which He made His crash landing. Which, were that indeed the case, would have been the most fortuitous (if not the wisest)—decision He ever made.

9 And how He split up the First Family—condemning the Œfê/Crêtn half & all its progeny^jb2 to spend their miserable lives as huntergatherers in the forest whilst the Ådûmb/Mørn half spent theirs just barely surviving on the diet of turnips they could grow in that otherwise barren wasteland on the far side of the Purple Mountains.

10 Hence did the confusing situation Dä•Dä was in become clarified: This barbaric breed of forestdwellers who were descended from that Original Sinner, Crêtn, had mistaken Him as the King of their foremost foes—the hated fruit of Mørn's loins! "Perhaps," Dä•Dä reasoned, "that would explain all this hostility they are exhibiting towards Me?"

11 "On the other hand," He argued with Himself, "if that's the case why did they bother to rescue Me from the jaws of a fate far more horrible than any they could wish on their worst enemy?"

12 "Moreover," Dä•Dä went on speculating, "is it really possible after all this time (which He reckoned to be at least 6 or 7 hundred years) the Crêtns & Mørns were still squabbling over which of their forbears had made the First Fatal Mistake over that Forbidden Fruit business?"^{mc13  jb3}

13 So engrossed did Dä•Dä become in revisiting this ancient history He was completely oblivious to the events about to unfold then and there—events whose cataclysmic consequences for Him in both theological & personal terms would make these earlier tribulations seem, as we Morons say, "like a Sundayschool picnic."

CHAPTER FIFTYNINE

IN HIS PROFOUND STATE of absentmindedness Dä•Dä failed to see the Crêtns were growing increasingly restless with what they construed as His "scheme to pull some kind of hypnotic wool" over their eyes with this repetitive game of charades He was playing with them—& whose "riddle" they had long since solved by correctly identifying Him as the King of the Mørns.

2 Because none of what should have been recognized by Him as their obvious manifestations of contempt, ridicule, scorn, derision, annoyance, exasperation, boredom & fatigue did in fact get Dä•Dä's attention, the Crêtn Chieftain—whose name^mc14 was HårûmHårûm Brækwÿndê—decided to take matters into his own hands & "put an end to this ridiculous farce!"

3 Whereupon Brækwÿndê strode forth from the crowd of rowdy onlookers, lowered his longer-than-average spear^jb4 & used its bronze tip to tap Dä•Dä not so gently on the shoulder; in what for the Crêtns was their customary way of declaring war.

4 And when this "declaration of war" succeeded in getting Dä•Dä's attention Brækwÿndê raised his spear even higher to not only give Dä•Dä's crown a few provocative nudges but to deliberately knock that Holiest Of All Hats from His Most Majestic Of All Heads!

5 To put it mildly: Dä•Dä was not amused.

6 But, as it soon became apparent, Brækwÿndê's brazen acts were only a prologue for the even more barbarous blasphemies committed by the rank & file Cretins who started tossing & kicking Dä•Dä's Regal Headgear around as if it were one of those inflated boars' bladders from which the name^mg3 of their tribal pastime, "pigball," is derived.

7 Worse yet, while Dä•Dä was understandably dumbfounded by the obscene spectacle unfolding before His eyes (& perhaps just a little curious about the rules of this inscrutable game—& who, if anyone, was winning it) a pair of Brækwÿndê's henchmen stole up behind Him, laid their grimy hands on His Royal Robes &, with one downward yank, ripped them off^jp3 His back!

8 This Foulest of Felonious Assaults was immediately compounded when He was also stripped of His whiter-than-white undergarments. Which were thereafter so defiled in the mud as to render them unwearable even if Dä•Dä were given the option of putting them back on to cover His nearly total nakedness. Which, of course, the Crêtns being the insensitive brutes they still are, He wasn't.

9 Then, while one of the Crêtns used his brute strength to hoist the much taller & heavier Dä•Dä from the ground, his partner in crime removed the winged boots & flung them high into the air to "see if the shoes worn by this King of the Morons will fly."

10 And when the Cretins saw Dä•Dä 's boots fall back to earth like "a pair of wounded ducks" (as they were bound to do since their wings were strictly ornamental & symbolic) it caused so much mirth & rejoicing amongst them they had the greatest difficulty remembering the score of the game they were playing, how much time^mg4 was left & even which side had possession of the "ball" when their attention was diverted.

11 Like most Crêtns, being a consummate opportunist, Brækwÿndê declared the pigball match "a scoreless tie" so his henchmen might devote their energies to the principal task at hand, which was: "To teach this King of the Mørns a lesson he & his harebrained minions won't forget about the fate awaiting all those who trespass on our sovereign turf!"

CHAPTER SIXTY

THE AFOREMENTIONED "LESSON" Dä•Dä was to be taught took the form of what Brækwÿndê sarcastically called "A Royal Sendoff in keeping with thy noble rank, Oh King of the Morons!"

2 And in fact the Crêtn went to some considerable pains surrounding what was, after all, this most ludicrous of travesties with the ceremonial trappings of an authentic State Occasion.

3 For starters Dä•Dä was escorted to a (rather less than more) "chairshaped" boulder at the base of the Purple Mountains & seated thereon as if it were a throne. And to complete this grotesque spectacle a "crown" freshly fashioned from brambles intertwined with nettle leaves was pressed onto His head as Brækwÿndê"solemnly" recited the Sacred Oath Of Office Dä•Dä was required to affirm by pointing an index finger to His temple as a sign He fully understood & accepted "without any reservation the awesome responsibilities being conferred on Him."^mc15

4 Meanwhile the other Crêtns were forming themselves into that long line which, had this been a proper coronation, is comprised of all those royal retainers, knights, courtiers & liegemen who, onebyone, step forward to kneel before their new monarch in a gesture of abject humility.

5 On this bogus—& most dastardly—occasion, however, these Crêtn "supplicants" were anything but sincere in the "subservience" they rendered unto their mock "King of the Morons! "

6 As each of them approached Dä•Dä, they lifted the hem of their animalpelt shirts with a left hand; & with the right managed somehow to "whip out" that most private of a male Crêtn's parts without going through the irksome rigmarole men^mc16  who wear loincloths^jb5 are normally put when answering one of nature's more urgent calls.^mg5

7 Thereafter, having first given Dä•Dä "a good gander" at (what was supposedly) the intimidating size of their membrum virilis,^mg6 they proceeded to "anoint" Him from head to foot with a steady stream^mc17 of that obnoxious fluid they use to define the socalled "borders" of Cretiny's socalled "sovereign turf" with its indelible yellow stain & an equally persistent stench so malodorous a skunk thinks twice about taking on any of these bipedals in a scentgland shootingmatch.

8 And if that wasn't bad enough the Crêtns added the consummate impertinence to Dä•Dä's damaged Majesty by repeating the entire procedure all over again!

9 Only this time (although, dear reader, it pains us to "sanctify" the lurid details which follow by putting them down on this sacred parchment, we are obliged to do so by the solemn oath we swore as Holy Historians to tell the truth, the whole truth & nothing but the truth) they smeared His already befouled body with heaping handfuls of fresh e*******t that, once again, they managed to obtain from their loincloths without the nuisance of undoing them!²²²

Book Two Chapter 6 Part 2  Return to Index

Footnotes

mc1 Since all those who reside in Heaven are by their nature immortal, capital punishment is not an option for even the most heinous of crimes. The Celestial Penal Code relies instead on such nonlethal-but-you'll-wish-you-were-dead sanctions as ostracism, derision, scorn, ridicule, contempt, mockery, scoffing and all those other psychological slings & arrows which fall into the general category of assassinating someone's character.

mc2 For lack of a better word. His demotion notwithstanding, Dä•Dä remained a (more or less) bonafide deity.

mc3 It was Dä•Dä's normal practice to appear in public with a bare head and wearing only the plainest toga with a pair of ordinary sandals. His rationale for doing so being that: "It was the Deity who made His clothes rather than the other way around."

mc4 The theory being that no terrestrial monarch, potentate, prince or emperor—if there were such things—could possibly compete with Dä•Dä's majesty haute couturewise.

mc5 Several reasons have been suggested for why the stars seem to have been overlooked by Dä•Dä and His scientific advisers as the obvious means by which to chart an earthward course in the otherwise featureless landscape of outer space. It's quite possible, for instance, that what we think of as these "incredibly distant points of light" aren't much higher than the tallest of our mountains and only visible from the Earth. On the other hand, since by their divine nature the Gods have neither the inclination nor the need to travel, they saw no "Heavenly" reason for drawing astronomical maps they would never use. But the simplest—and perhaps the most plausible—explanation might be that the idea of stellar navigation just never dawned on these (for the most part) "Omniscient" Beings.

mc6 "If we're wrong," they warned, "You might very well find Yourself on a oneway trip to oblivion."

mc7 As we Morons have been known to do from our brakeless turnipwagons with results that are more often than not both painful and embarrassing.

jp1 Written by Morons or not, Chapter 55 Verse 2 of The Moronic Chronicles is a model of brevity which deserves the highest editorial accolades—J. P.

jb1 This salt marsh, known as Åydn– by the Morons and Œdÿn  by the Cretins, plays the same role in both of their theologies as the once idyllic setting wherein they dwelt so blissfully before making that "Fatal Mistake"—which the Morons blame on the Cretins and vice versa. According to the Moronic version of those Good Old Days the Very First Family was a foursome consisting of Ådûmb the Father, Œfê the Mother and their Sons Mørn and Crêtn. In a variation on our own Original Sin motif (but more like that set forth in Genesis 4:5-15 than in Chapter 3 of that truly Holiest of Books) rather than eating the Forbidden Fruit he picked in violation of Dä•Dä's Absolute Prohibition against doing so, the Cainly Crêtn used it to frame his Abellike brother, Mørn, for what was that Most Dastardly Of All Deeds—J-J. B.

mc8 The word for that paradoxical phenomenon by which an ostensibly immortal being ceases to exist hasn't yet been coined. At least not to our satisfaction, as the following examples of what we think are failed attempts at doing so clearly illustrate: deeternalization, ungodlihood, exdeification, remortality, degodded and noneverlastingness.

mc9 Reading between the previous lines it's reasonable to suppose the celestial canine population consists of only such pedigreed—and housebroken— types as the poodle, pekinese, dachshund, etc.

mc10 To their wolfish eyes Dä•Dä looked more or less like an ordinary Crêtn. Not that they relished dining on these bipeds whose bland flesh didn't suit their taste for the gamier sort of forest fare. And, their lack of fangs and claws notwithstanding, when armed with such "manmade" tools of the dog-eat-dog trade as the bow & arrow, slingshot and razorsharp flint dagger, these "defenseless" hominids were not always the easiest of kills.

mc11 Even when fullyerected from his normal simian stance the average Crêtn is a good head shorter than the typical Moron.

mg1 As with so many other idiosyncrasies of this prehistoric language, what in English (or Latin) seems like an insoluble grammatical paradox (how does one express a continuing state of nonaffairs when absolutely nothing "happens?") made perfectly good sense to our forebears who did all their speaking and (presumably their thinking) in Gibberish—M. G.

mc12 Just as with certain other "territorial" animals—musk deer, civets & badgers for instance—the Crêtns use this "godawful" stink they give off to establish the borders of what they call their "sovereign turf."

mg2 This is the Moronic Chronicles' equivalent to our "Tower of Babel" parable as told in Genesis—M.G.

jp2 As one of the more scholarly dictionaries points out in its definition of hurrah: "This is one of the few contributions made by the Cretins to our modern vocabulary."—J.P.

jb2 Apparently these Moronic chroniclers were no more successful solving the problem of how Crêtn and his mother, Œfë, managed to perpetuate their race without committing incest than the Hebrews were explaining from whence came Cain's wife, if not the womb of his mother, Eve?—J-J. B.

mc13 While shortly after our exile from the Garden Spot we Morons settled down and became (more or less) satisfied with what few blessing we still had most notably the turnips which satisfied all our nutritional, if not our gastronomical, needs—the Crêtns continued to rankle over a fate they blamed on us. But then they are too proud to heed those Words of Moronic Wisdom which state: "There is no sense in crying over spilled milk & honey."

jb3 In fairness to the Cretins they have never denied it was their ancestral namesake who made that First Fatal Mistake by trying to blame his brother for eating the Forbidden Fruit. The case they make is one of "the most aggravated extenuating circumstances"—not the least of which is: From his birth poor Crêtn was fated to play second fiddle to his 'saintly' older brother, Mørn." According to the Cretins such an injustice was bound to produce the result it did. For what it's worth the Cretins can probably take credit for having raised the concept of Theological Equity long before the Greeks began writing all those hairtearing and soulsearching plays on this vexatious subject.—J-J B.

mc14 If one can dignify what were, in the original Presymbolic Crêtinese lexicon, 2 throatclearings & a prolonged lip fart with such a civilized word.

jb4 This relic of their pagan past is now used by the Cretins as the State Scepter upon which a newlyinaugurated President takes his oath of office; notwithstanding my best efforts as the Papal Envoy to Cretiny at persuading them to use one of our Bibles for such a solemn purpose—J-J B.

mg3 Contrary to what we Americans would like to believe—although only God (or Dä•Dä) knows why—our second most popular national pastime is more closely related to the abovementioned pigball than it is to Rugby. Quite naturally, the Morons also find it difficult to accept this fact of sporting life and express their disdain for the Cretins' pork/football creativity claims with the cliché "It's not who invents a game but who wins it that matters." This rivalry between the Morons and Cretins over who originated and/or excels in the playing of what has now become a thoroughly Americanized game anyway is (more or less) settled on a (for the most part) sportsmanlike basis by whether the Cretin City Hammerheads or the Moronville Marauders win the Annual Dr. George W. Wÿncê Cup; which, as its name plainly indicates, is a trophy celebrating the contribution made to mankind by that distinguished (and politically correct halfMoron halfCretin) pioneering sports physician when he patented the world's first castiron athletic supporter in 1854—M.G.

jp3 As far as I've been able to ascertain from my inquiries to most of the world's leading etymologists this is probably the genesis of those catch phrases which have become such a permanent part of our late20th century lexicon—J.P.

mg4 Although very little is known about exactly how the Cretins kept track of time during these pigball games of theirs it apparently involved the use of a device made from the jawbone of an ass and some eagle feathers. It's quite possible our own obsession with the chronological fine points of foot- and basketball will one day be traced back to roots buried deep in the soil of Cretiny—M.G.

mc15 By this time it's reasonable to assume Dä•Dä had managed to gain at least a working knowledge of Crêtnese.

mc16 One of life's miseries we Morons have been mercifully spared because, in accordance with our Blind Belief in the Bliss of Ignorance, from the eyebrows down we wear nothing but the "clothes" we were born with. Moreover it has been revealed unto us that: "Only thy God Dä•Dä shall gird His loins with a cloth."

jb5 Among the loinclothwearing tribes who inhabited the Moron's part of the prehistoric world were the Imbeciles, Idiots, Numskulls, Dunces & Simpletons; all of whom became extinct—whether from causes associated with that unhygienic garment or not is impossible to say—long before the Greek, Persian and Roman social historians arrived on the scene to provide us with a first hand account of the exact reasons for their demise—J-J B.

mg5 Unfortunately the archeological cupboard is bare when it comes to any of these ancient Cretin loincloths. Hence the secret of their ingenious construction must remain a mystery. Nevertheless, based on these Chronicles, and the presumption this innovation was adopted (or more likely stolen) by our GraecoRoman precursors it must be conceded that every man alive today who wears pants owes these "barbarians" his undying gratitude for having devised that most underappreciated of masculine creature comforts; the zippered "fly." And, if we had the courage to imitate the Moronic practice of providing clean public restrooms on every streetcorner in their capital city, the lives of America's metropolitan pedestrians would be considerably more blissful than they are at present—M.G.

mg6 Once again, the evidence on this matter on just how wellendowed these ancient Cretins really were consists only of their skeletal remains; which don't shed any light on what is (despite its occasional rampancy) one of our more spineless appendages. The most recent study (1987) indicates, however, the dimensions of the average Cretin membrum virilis is, just that—average. This might explain why the Cretins were so attached to their loincloths. As the Morons are quick to ask when this subject arises: "If those Cretins of bygone times were as generously endowed as they claimed to be why would they want to hide that fact behind a figleaf?" But this raises some serious questions for the Morons themselves about their own hat wearing proclivities. If what they claim is true—that their brows are considerably lower than those of any other breed of men—why do they take such pains to conceal what for them should be a source of ethnic pride?—M.G.

mc17 We are reluctant to use this adjective but since it's the one Dä•Dä Himself has revealed unto us we have no choice in the matter. Let it be clearly understood by the reader of these Chronicles, however, that: From our own personal knowledge, when it comes to their alleged urinary prowess the Cretins are no more "generously endowed" than they are virilis memberwise. If, as we strongly suspect, Dä•Dä is exaggerating the details of the ordeal He underwent at the hands—and other appendages—of the Crêtns, who can blame Him? After all, it isn't every day a deity suffers even the slightest discomfort, let alone the kind of unspeakable indignities we are describing. To us mere mortals—whose daily existence consists of enduring one outrageous humiliation after another (hence those Wisest of Words: "A swift kick in the backside is a step forward.")—Dä•Dä's defilement might seem like just so much more water off a duck's back; from the perspective of His (justifiably) hitherto sheltered existence it was no doubt the "horrendous experience" He clearly indicates (if only between the lines) it was.