.....On the 27th of February, in the year 2014 (huh?), the Baron will reach the ripe old age of 90. I do wonder why they call it "ripe". It sounds too much like "good for picking," and I've picked a peck or two in my time: two fractured hips, COPD, PTSD, Ph.D, pneumonia, melanoma, tonsillectomy, and circumcision (sp?)which I didn't call for at all. And the number "90" rings some bells much less scary than the coming 90 and its accompanying surprise party. And then
incidentally, some people either can't read, or they lost their glasses, or they did not know the meaning of RSVP. If the latter, one wonders what school they attended. At this surprise party, we are graciously having dinner served to our guests, and all the invitees who have not responded, s'il vous plait, have not indicated their choice for dinner. When I say "surprise" party, I mean that I'm surprised I've reached 90 and that's what the party is all about.
.....So I ask, why is age 90 all the rage? There are other 90s that can be used for chit-chat. How about driving 90 miles an hour? How about 90 pieces of gold? How about if the price of oil goes up to $90 a barrel then Allah has to add 18 more virgins to his stock of 72 making it 90 and making it extremely difficult for a young terrorist who blows himself up to satisfy 90 virgins every day throughout all eternity, and he doesn't even know if they are men or women?, The Koran doesn't say. Yes, and then their is school when the teacher implores you to write a précis of 90 words, and you get a 90 on the math test. So you see, there are many more 90s in the world for one to use in ghoulish conversation.
.....My British cousin has requested that I analyze another of Shakespeare's sonnets. I'd like to do that--after all, I am an Anglophile, and one of these days when I find a sonnet I like I will satisfy her wish (Christmas is over), but that kind of post may drive some readers away. I really don't care; I will do a sonnet. After all, I'm a poet and have published two books of poetry.
Rather strangely, if you are a FEMALE Muslim destined for heavenly glory, you DON'T get 90 or even 72 MALE virgins to enjoy for all eternity. In fact, I don't think you get any at all. Now that is plain UNFAIR!! The spelling of circumcision is as I have written it, and the Greek word is peritemnos (I think) which means the same as circumcision: cutting around. I don't consider it as a terrible thing, although I'm aware that a number of circumcised men are currently complaining that it was an invasion of their physical integrity. Of course, living in the USA or Britain, and not wandering around in the desert which was our past heritage, they are not aware how awkward it might be to get a grain of sand stuck between..er..well, use your imagination here..
ReplyDeleteI conclude by roundly stating that any of your readers who might be driven away by the miracle of orthometry that is a sonnet were never worth having to start with. Anyone want to argue with THAT? Much love, and Happy New Year! Cuzzin Ruth xx
I don't edit my work, so thanks for catching the spelling error of circuscissors. I fixed it. Actually, I would have enjoyed a bit more wine. Oh, my goodness, you've opened up a can of worms with your sonnet challenge.
DeleteRuth: If you are a young Muslim woman who lived a very virtuous life, remaining pious and without having been with any men before your unexpected early demise, apparently you ARE rewarded in Heaven -- by being housed with dozens of like-minded colleagues, and then raped through the rest of eternity by a male terrorist.
ReplyDeleteThe problem for a Muslim man or woman who blow themselves up for eternal sex is that when they meet Allah and say they are ready for the 72 virgins is that they don't consider the fact that they don't know iif the virgins are male or female and won't they be surprised.
DeleteJR and Baron - all these eventualities are too horrible to contemplate. And anyway, what I always say to my husband is: "After you, darling, I would never want another man ever again." Cuz Ruth
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