Art Pottery, Politics and Food
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Thou, child of the high God Zeus,
Apollo, hast robbed us…
The bane of a parent, by craft
From out of our grasp thou hast taken.
A god, thou hast stolen from us the avengers…
--The Eumenides

Bush Persued by the Furies with apologies to Bourguereau

While those intrepid inheritors of Allan Pinkerton’s legacy might not, yet, have noticed, tiny winged immortals have penetrated our most secure national perimeter, the Bush Bubble.
With some cynical chroniclers of fact-based reality acknowledging a few repetitive mannerisms haunting the presidential numen, certain spiritually receptive and time-relative cognoscenti have, for some time now, recognized these “mannerisms” as the hideous microscopic furies more commonly known as The Erinyes or the angry ones.
Aeschylus, the Greek playwright who fantastically expired when an eagle dropped a “tortoise” on his head, thought these Furies personified the curses that all murdered direct toward their murderers.
While these snake-haired demigods normally paint with fairly broad strokes, they can and do reserve their sharpest nubs to needle the most exacting and stringent justice upon “crimes against kindred blood”.
Even more worrying, to the televised “kindred blood” of cubicle-inhabiting POTUS-ian clones, should be the increasing frequency of protean torments buffeting their historically doomed prince and signaling his mythic conclusion.
Payback, like fate, isn’t just one mood-swinging bitch it’s three.

Modified Image:, Reuters
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GL, How sad you are...and lonely and ugly too...sad, sitting in your loo.
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