Unholy Marriage

Thursday City’s patron goddess, Obergin Smythe, doesn’t seem too excited about the situation she finds herself in. In order to save her beloved city (deservedly or not) she has submitted to being wed to Paul Slimey McSlymebøllson the Wizard of the Northern Nations. Paul is the board-elected president of SAMMS Club (Scandinavian Alligator Milk Manufacturers Syndicate... uh, Club).

When the Thursday City producers began exporting so much alligator milk that the world market was flooded SAMMS Club petitioned the United Nations to have America reinforce the production quota on the Thursday City conglomerates. Upon successful petition SAMMS Club drastically lowered the already asphyxiating quotas. After years of being yoked to this production quota the Thursday City producers, except the Kremes, revolted. The revolt was put down by SAMMS Club with the help of the American National Guard. As part of the reconciliation compact the Thursday City producers were allowed to return to slightly more than the pre-conflict quotas, and the organizations’ bond was to be strengthened by marriage. Ergo: Obergin Smythe McSlymebøllson.

The wedding is presided over by Uncle Tim and Padre S.

House Head

Willy B., as we all know, is quite the imaginative man. He can often be found in the throes of a spiritual revery, or waxing poetic on the nature of the soul, or animatedly acting out a fanciful story he has recently concocted. But he also builds memory palaces. They are full of chambers, which are full of symbols, which are full of meaning. Kierkegaard once wrote: “In relation to systems most systematizers are like a man who builds an enormous castle and lives in a shack nearby; they do not live in their own enormous systematic buildings.” Not true of Willy B. Oh no! he is like the turtle of systematizers, he always has his dwelling place on his “back.”

Lost Monuments

Walking around Downtown one can’t help but be overwhelmed by the immensity of the City. But imagine if our culture had energized and archaic values, values worthy of the term.

Of course our cities are huge, and they are testament to our engineering age, but they are NOT monumental in any sense other than their largeness. Imagine if we applied our genius for technique and triviality and banality towards true art and monumentality. We have the technical abilities to make monuments and edifices that could rival any classical Wonder, but instead we have abstract cubes, large-scale visual banality we call art, derivative government buildings, boring bureaucratic behemoths, and ad hoc housing towers that are actually thinly disguised prisons.

But just imagine if we actually valued anything outside the realm of physical pleasure and economic status, i.e. art, spirit, religion, etc. The Babylonians engineered a series of hanging gardens (in a desert!) that were so magnificent as to be wondered at throughout the world, and inspiring to this day, but our cities will be remembered with puzzlement at the amount of energy wasted for such ultimately trivial ends. Our cities are interesting, but never wonderful.

At least this is what Wolfgang Johnny G. tells me. Hear him speak what I have regurgitated: