Tales from the Pub
October 5th 2006 00:01
Hi, my name is of no consequence. It’s possible that I don’t exist, but I swear that what I am about to reveal is true. I was there, I heard the whole thing.
Perhaps I should start at the beginning. There’s this pub, it’s between two shops in Elizabeth Street in Melbourne, just a little ways from the station.
But you won’t find it there, at least not if you’re looking for it. I only found it by accident. It was very late at night, or very early in the morning, anyway, it’s of no consequence. The thing is that I found it. The bar keeper was this little Chinese guy. He handed me a drink when I fronted the bar. I didn’t even get a chance to order, was just handed this rum and cola. I was about to ask him how he knew when I was distracted by a loud voice behind me.
‘Hey, I know you. You’re the guy that wrote The Odyssey.’
‘But. . . ’
‘No buts about it mate. That guy with the hat pointed you out. Homer, that’s it, that’s your name.’
‘Well. . . ’
‘Nah mate, you can’t get out of it. You wrote some pretty strange stuff in the Odyssey. In my professional opinion you could use a bit of therapy. You seem to have a number of unresolved issues. Perhaps we can start with “The Debate in Ithaca” by the forth line you start raving about the “glistening” feet of Telemachus and I put it to you that you have a foot fetish.’
‘Yes but you see. . . ’
‘Oh, I see all right. The foot fetish is nothing compared to some of the other stuff in this concoction of yours. In your own words you describe the god Poseidon as “Lord of the Earthquake, God of the Sable Locks”. Sounds as though you and this Poseidon were pretty close. Did the Earth really move for you?’
‘But you don’t understa. . . ’
‘Understand, Of course I understand. Two consenting adults, nothing wrong with that. So why are you so defensive?’
‘I’m not de. . . ’
‘Is this another fantasy, or just denial. You story is a litany of your own fantasies isn’t it? And some of them are pretty serious fantasies at that. What about Polycaste? This is really your mothers name isn’t it? “When she had bathed him and rubbed him with olive oil” sounds pretty erotic for a classic eh.’
‘But. . . ’
‘And then you have these boys sailing all over the Mediterranean with a boat load of sheep. In fact livestock seems to play a large part in the lives of these men. Why is that do you think?’
‘I. . . ’
‘You what? Don’t think. No, your type don’t, do they. Your Odyssey is given to children to read in school. Then again, maybe this explains Michael Jackson’s problems. And the Cyclops, just another name for the one eyed trowser snake is it. Not exactly subtle is it when you start to add up all your phallic symbolism is it?’
‘You’ve got it. . . ’
‘I’m sure I do. What really worries me is the part where Odysseus goes in to that cave with the goat and meets his mother. I shudder to think what goes on in your head. I mean that childhood fantasy of sleeping with one’s mother is one thing, but a goat as well? Come on, admit it, the whole Odyssey was spawned from your twisted mind in an effort to make yourself sexually acceptable to your conscious mind. Come on Homer, there is no shame in admitting that you need help. It is the first step in mental health.’
‘Look everything you have said may be true, and certainly is an interesting story, but the fact remains that Homer is that chap standing at the end of the bar. My name is Jon Farkwarre and I write for the Times. Are you sure about the goat? Hmmm. . . If you will excuse me I think I might just have a word with Homer.
Perhaps I should start at the beginning. There’s this pub, it’s between two shops in Elizabeth Street in Melbourne, just a little ways from the station.
But you won’t find it there, at least not if you’re looking for it. I only found it by accident. It was very late at night, or very early in the morning, anyway, it’s of no consequence. The thing is that I found it. The bar keeper was this little Chinese guy. He handed me a drink when I fronted the bar. I didn’t even get a chance to order, was just handed this rum and cola. I was about to ask him how he knew when I was distracted by a loud voice behind me.
‘Hey, I know you. You’re the guy that wrote The Odyssey.’
‘But. . . ’
‘No buts about it mate. That guy with the hat pointed you out. Homer, that’s it, that’s your name.’
‘Well. . . ’
‘Nah mate, you can’t get out of it. You wrote some pretty strange stuff in the Odyssey. In my professional opinion you could use a bit of therapy. You seem to have a number of unresolved issues. Perhaps we can start with “The Debate in Ithaca” by the forth line you start raving about the “glistening” feet of Telemachus and I put it to you that you have a foot fetish.’
‘Yes but you see. . . ’
‘Oh, I see all right. The foot fetish is nothing compared to some of the other stuff in this concoction of yours. In your own words you describe the god Poseidon as “Lord of the Earthquake, God of the Sable Locks”. Sounds as though you and this Poseidon were pretty close. Did the Earth really move for you?’
‘But you don’t understa. . . ’
‘Understand, Of course I understand. Two consenting adults, nothing wrong with that. So why are you so defensive?’
‘I’m not de. . . ’
‘Is this another fantasy, or just denial. You story is a litany of your own fantasies isn’t it? And some of them are pretty serious fantasies at that. What about Polycaste? This is really your mothers name isn’t it? “When she had bathed him and rubbed him with olive oil” sounds pretty erotic for a classic eh.’
‘But. . . ’
‘And then you have these boys sailing all over the Mediterranean with a boat load of sheep. In fact livestock seems to play a large part in the lives of these men. Why is that do you think?’
‘I. . . ’
‘You what? Don’t think. No, your type don’t, do they. Your Odyssey is given to children to read in school. Then again, maybe this explains Michael Jackson’s problems. And the Cyclops, just another name for the one eyed trowser snake is it. Not exactly subtle is it when you start to add up all your phallic symbolism is it?’
‘You’ve got it. . . ’
‘I’m sure I do. What really worries me is the part where Odysseus goes in to that cave with the goat and meets his mother. I shudder to think what goes on in your head. I mean that childhood fantasy of sleeping with one’s mother is one thing, but a goat as well? Come on, admit it, the whole Odyssey was spawned from your twisted mind in an effort to make yourself sexually acceptable to your conscious mind. Come on Homer, there is no shame in admitting that you need help. It is the first step in mental health.’
‘Look everything you have said may be true, and certainly is an interesting story, but the fact remains that Homer is that chap standing at the end of the bar. My name is Jon Farkwarre and I write for the Times. Are you sure about the goat? Hmmm. . . If you will excuse me I think I might just have a word with Homer.
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