Editor's Note: This the fifth post in a series prompted by an earlier comment about how Dannie's lurid tales of his Killer Kitties represent personal coping devices to deal with his many adversaries' attacks. Our usual format has been to quote from the "Corner" word-for-word and then give our interpretation. Today, however, we're making a slight variation: After quoting both incidents, we'll comment — very frankly — on their inappropriateness before we quickly tease out their hidden content. WARNING: Don't read on if you're the queasy type.
Caravaggio was waiting for me when I returned home after the final 24 hour journey from Argentina. He partied a little too hard, though, and the next day I had to take care of clean up. He is prudently sleeping it off now.
Oh yes, Caravaggio. He came bounding in the other evening with his “special needs” meow, and deposited a freshly slain baby mouse in my room. I picked him up to dissuade him from his nighttime snack, but as I did so he swallowed his mouse meal in three gulps. And this from a cat who shies away from solid food.Before all the financial troubles came to a head at $GG, His Grossness was content to turn our stomachs with simple accounts of blood-drenched mayhem and mauling. But lately he's ratcheted up the "ick"-factor. With these latest mutilation-and-regurgitation anecdotes, Dannie appears intent on making the Gerties retch before brunch.
Just think about the above two verbal images: cat puke in one and in the other a grume-spattered beast gobbling up a shredded carcass. Does the Wee One hope to emerge as a nasty, low-rent Ibáñez with this Blood and Barf?
It's way beyond beyond bad taste: It approaches the deeply disturbed.
On a Sunday, who needs to contemplate Dannie's scooping up a congealed puddle of vomit, probably consisting in large part of undigested rodent guts? And why on the Sabbath morn should the Gertlings have to confront the image of a feral cat, cradled in a cult master's arms, its fangs clogged with clotted blood, fresh fecal matter, and torn mouse flesh, noisily gulping down, chunk by gory chunk, a newly slaughtered pinky?
Gerties, what's wrong with you? Why haven't you given this creep his walking papers?
Let's go straight to the message underlying these two affronts to decency. It won't take long.
Antic 1 clearly signals the party's over at the cult, and they're sick over it. While Travelin' Man Dan was out galavanting in México lindo and the Andean foothills with their lush grapevines, pretending nothing has changed since the 2009 $GG $chool $candal, the "¢lerical" ¢lown ¢rew at $GG had to face the reluctant givers. Cheesy, no stranger himself to others' surliness, recognizes the aggressive unwillingness to underwrite wasteful spending. It's been left to him to inform the Mitered Maggot that the balmy days of wine and roses have turned into chilling nights of wormwood and weeds. He didn't have the stomach for it.
Antic 2 is about the straitened conditions of the cult "¢lergy." No more lavish meals at local high-end restaurants. To fill their grumbling maws, they have to wolf down whatever slop comes their way, whether they want to or not. (Heard no longer is "I don't like that.") Whereas beforehand they turned their noses up at the greasy, starchy, gag-inducing fare sallow Gerttie gals used to throw together in their grimy kitchens, the "¢lergy" must swallow the unsightly mess whole or starve. Such is the price for defending the indefensible in 2009.As usual, we invite our readership to suggest their own reading of Dannie's two repulsive critter capers. So much vulgarity promises a richness of interpretive possibilities.