Friday, April 2, 2010

Enslaved by the Bell: Greek Titans and Gods in High School

The tale of Prometheus, who lost the Fire(bird)
Overheard near the gym lockers.

So, like Prometheus in 12B? The guy that always has that Eagle following him?

At Lenaia Dinner last week he totally played this trick on his dad where he put all these bones in the middle of the Braised Bull and his dad Iapetus bites into it and is like, “What in the name of one of Saturn’s small moons that will one day be named after me is this shit?” And so Prometheus is like, “Ya burnt! You bit into the good-looking thing that’s horrid and twisted on the inside; it’s like your second marriage all over again. Let this be a lesson to you, pops.” And so his dad started cut sick and nearly started whaling on him like he was a Olynthian slave, but then he’s like, “No, I don’t need Titan Protective services on my ass again, I’m taking your Firebird Chariot off you and none of your school friends are allowed to have it.” So now nobody has a way to get to get to the gym-class celebration next Friday. And Mr. Harris was going to be there and he’s totally been giving me the eye all semester.

* * *

Pandora, the first woman (and she totally knows it)
Written on the walls of the Women’s Toilets.

Oh. My. Various Gods. Did you see what that SLUT Pandora has been doing? She’s taken “all-giving” to another level. I don’t care if she was the first woman; you can’t go round flaunting yourself like that. Who cares if she developed a little faster than everyone else?

All through Science she was sitting next to Hercules and giggling about “showing him what’s inside her box.” Like I don’t know what that means. I was so mad I couldn’t concentrate on learning how Zeus invented excuses for tardiness when he was running late for a meeting. I’ve had a crush on Hercules since the third grade, and now she’s going to be making out with him. And she walks around like she’s so cool. Yeah, well I could be popular as well if my father ordered Hephaestus to mould me out of the ground, but instead I looked like I spat out by the god of Hades. GOD I HATE THIS SCHOOL.


Enslaved by the Bell

The tale of Erebus, self-proclaimed “God of Darkness”
Overheard during second period Math class.

I’m sick of death of these fucking emo kids. Have you seen Erebus walking around with his black loincloth? ‘Oh dudddde, you’re so edgy just because you wear black and you steal ground charcoal from your mom to put around your eyes. And his ironic T-shirts? “Euripides Nutz.” What the fuck is that supposed to mean? He thinks he’s got so much to be upset about. I feel like punching him and saying, “Dude, your mom is the mother of all creation; you have more power than everyone at this shitty school combined.”

He’s always talking about how he hangs around in Hades. Like he’d be allowed in there. You either need to have ID or be the twisted remains of a soul to get in, and as if Hades is going to have a sniveling little kid walking behind him when he’s trying to torture the dead. Oh, and have you heard him talking about cutting himself? Hey you know what you should do? You should go up to him and be all like, “Hey, Erebus, the Chariot is supposed to go up Vesuvius Highway, not across, do the job properly.” I think he’s totally going to shoot up the school. If you see him walking along with a bow and arrow then run.

Sam Burnett lives in Tasmania. He is generally awkward and self loathing. One time he bought Enchanted, then tried to return it without a receipt and made a fuss when they wouldn’t let him just so he’d have a conversation starter if he ever met Amy Adams.

Sisyphus Dabbles in Haiku

Sisyphus Dabbles in Haiku

Condemned by the gods
Bound in perpetuity
Bastards hold a grudge

Slanted light of dawn
Stirs the twice-damned dead to rise
Bagel. Coffee, black.

Some things are certain
Death and taxes, for instance
Also, gravity

Summit within reach
Just a few more inches—whoops!
There it goes again

The ascent is hard
But the descent’s not half bad
It’s the little things

Day in and day out
Tiresome toil from dawn to dusk
What am I, Amish?

I bear my burden
As a postman bears his load
Civil, but half-mad

“Orange” is pretty bad
But nothing—I mean nothing—
Rhymes with “Tartarus”

Mike Richardson-Bryan used to be a lawyer, but he’s all better now. No, really. His work has also appeared on McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, in the pages of Cracked, Stitches, and The Wittenburg Door, and recently appeared in The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2007. He lives in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada with one wife and two dogs.

Alfred Tennyson’s “Release the Kraken!”

Below the thunders of the upper deep,
The Kraken lies in its watery sleep.
If only Liam Neeson needed a paycheck,
The Kraken could unleash hardcore C.G.I. dreck.
Do it, Liam, the Kraken thought.
Drop the Kraken like it’s hot.
Release the Kraken from the abysmal sea.
Just bellow out your divine decree.
Please don’t be fettered by your indoor voice.
This Kraken battens upon seaworms, and not by choice.
Release the Kraken, turn me loose.
You can do it, after all, you’re Zeus.

Joseph S. Pete, a writer who currently lives in the Middle West, will have samosas to start, the chicken vindaloo, and water. No, just tap water is fine, thanks.

A Pantheon of Greek-Myth Mirth

Dionysus, Applebee’s Server

Dionysus, Applebee's Server


ELCOME! I am the giver of unmixed wine, and he who replenishes Boneless Buffalo Wings and Chicken Parmesan Tanglers. Speaking of which, may I start you off with some appetizers?

Excellent choice, sir. The Dynamite Shrimp are particularly fine. Also, we are running our 2 for $20 promotion right now.

Tonight, we will drink deep of earthly pleasures and romp with the blessed Maenads, whose curls fall thick around their shoulders in flourishes of mad ecstasy. The Maenads? They are Benjy, the busboy, and Kelly, the bartender, with whom I must share my tips, since I am new here. Never mind Kelly’s blank expression. She is mad with pleasure and, anyway, makes wine flow like rain over the sown wheat.

Oh, you are ready for your drink orders? A saucy company, this! Yes, yes … Our Red Apple Sangria is a personal favorite of mine. It will gush forth from these very walls over our shivering bodies.

I will return shortly to take your food orders. And then when we have filled our bellies with every good thing, the writhing faithful will be driven into the streets to fill the air with songs of the delights of Applebee’s! To the mountain! Ai ai ai ai ai!

Nathan Pensky is a graduate student at Mills College, and his work has been published in McSweeney’s. He enjoys stroking his beard and studying the ancient art of animal husbandry.

Alfred Tennyson’s "Release the Kraken!" If only Liam Neeson needed a paycheck, the Kraken could unleash hardcore C.G.I. dreck.
Sisyphus Dabbles in Haiku Some things are certain / Death and taxes, for instance / Also, gravity

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