Wednesday, April 09, 2008

The Starry Wisdom


Our daughter Arianrhod ferch Saisladdwr is interested in subacquatic lifeforms and betting, and entertains ideas of owning a brace of racing lobsters one day.

She's at the stage where she names everything with enthusiasm and added accuracy. Except for the octopus, which she once called "octopus" but now dubs "Ee-ee-eh".

This baffled me, until I realised that she'd overheard my casual incantation to the Great Cthulhu - Iä! Iä! Cthulhu Ftaghn!

Cthulhu could be the One we meet on Judgement Day, and doesn't sound the meek, forgiving type if his prophet Mr Lovecraft can be trusted. I'm hardly pious, but do like to keep my options open.

I've been thinking about when to begin Arianrhod's religious education, but she seems to have picked it up all on her own.

Als das Kind Kind war,
wußte es nicht, daß es Kind war,
alles war ihm beseelt,
und alle Seelen waren eins.


Mrs Boyo doesn't know about it, so keep it to yourselves.

20 comments:

Gorilla Bananas said...

She's a bonnie wee girl, but she shouldn't be learning occult rites at her age. Children pick up these things quickly and she could quickly develop into another Morgan le Fay. A bit of moral instruction and anti-witch propaganda might be a useful corrective.

No Good Boyo said...

GB, no one can accuse the Boyos of being soft on witches, or indeed the cause of witches, as this post can testify:

http://alfanalf.blogspot.com/2007/10/save-world-burn-witch.html

Gadjo Dilo said...

Ah, Boyo, there's no finer gift that a father can bestow on his offspring than A Liberal Education. Take young Arianrhod to an assortment of churches, mosques, synagogues, covens, eisteddfods, golf courses and shopping malls so she can make her own choice of all-consuming raison d'etre. I have to say though that the name Arianrhod was perhaps not chosen with full care and attention to the possibility of mosque membership.

Stay-At-Home Indie-Pop said...

I like the idea of a brace of racing lobsters. I like even better the idea of worshipping them.

M C Ward said...

I can't speak German. I feel sooooo left out.

M C Ward said...

Or Welsh for that matter. You're worse than T S Eliot.

No Good Boyo said...

MC, I am certainly worse than Mr Eliot in all respects, especially suit-wearing. I might have given him a run for his money in the smoking stakes but have recently quit - the subject of a forthcoming post, I reckon.

The German is from a poem by Peter Handke, and I came across it the Wim Wenders film Wings of Desire - one of my favourites. It's what the wonderful Bruno Ganz is reciting at the beginning. There's a translation here:

http://www.wim-wenders.com/movies/movies_spec/wingsofdesire/wod-song-of-childhood.htm

Gadjo, "liberal" is a cuss word in the House of Boyo, along with "relationhsips", "issues" and "rights". I take your point, however, and hope to provide Arianrhod with a full range of cults until she finds one she can dominate.

For the time being, the Cthulhu cult is making great strides in the infant marketplace of ideas.

Just look at the selection of bath toys available: octopuses, starfish, mermaids: it's like Innsmouth in a tub.

The other religions had better come up with some novelty Saviour/Prophet/Buddhabubble bath soon or a generation will be lost to pulpy beings from another dimension.

Stay-At-Home-Indie-Pop has already fallen to them. "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn! Iä! Iä!"

Scaryduck said...

It's all very well teaching your young-uns sacred Lovecraftian rites. Just don't come running to be when some creature with 1,000 faces lurches out from behind the bins and rips your legs off.

No Good Boyo said...

True enough, Scary. I can imagine the scenario:

"Arianrhod want Raleigh Chopper an parka an curlywurly an spacehopper NOW,!"

"Sorry, cariad, you're not three yet. Wait a little, eh?"

"Sqtp'thwy nhyar'l'htophluqq shlupmrwly!"

"Eh? Argh, no, the burning three-lobed eye!"

Gadjo Dilo said...

Your Worse than T. S. Eliot has set me off: I'm envisaging a new game for "dinner parties" (emphatically not for your estimable selves), called Who'd You Most Like to be Worse Than? You’re only allowed one phrase engraved on your gravestone, and it must read "[name of the chattering-class lollo-rosso-muncher] : worse than [another name or phrase]". E.g. "Miss X : worse than Harry Potter because I can’t *". Or simply "Mr Y : worse than Aleister Crowley" would be good. "Gadjo Dilo: worse than other faux-modeste poseurs".

*Whatever it is the little twerp does; I don’t want to know so don’t tell me.

Oh, I've just seen this Cthulhu for the first time and now I understand the seafood connection, though very little else.

M C Ward said...

Thanks for the pointer, NGB. I like Paris Texas because Nastassja Kinski's in it.

Just to clarify, I meant you're worse than Thomas Stearns simply in the quoting foreign texts stakes, of course you are a far more poetlike than he.

No Good Boyo said...

MC, I'm fan of the Waste Land and model every post on it, believe it or not. I've not got any Sanskrit on the blog, yet, but it's only a matter of time. And karma.

Kinski. Ghraghl! Dating her must have been a nervy experience, as any moment you'd be dreading the words "Let's go and meet my dad."

Gadjo, that's a splendid idea. Errol Garner ended his Concert By The Sea with the words "It's worser than Louis Armstrong". That should start the ball rolling.

I'm no prosletyser, but if I've brought one person closer to gibbering in the corner as trails of ichor lead to unknown chasms of improbable geometry where a blind, shapeless god noodles mindlessly on an abhorrent flute, then my living has not been in vain.

Mrs Boyo said...

Cthulhu would get no further than a Japanese trawler fleet. He sounds like a sushi feast.

M C Ward said...

And congratulations, your daughter is a delight.

No Good Boyo said...

Thanks. She's very relaxed in this pic, just flicking through The Chap for fashion tips after a late breakfast of kedgeree and kippers.

Gadjo Dilo said...

Aye, she's a bonnie lass indeed*. I'd wondered what the magazine was but could only make out the word "Roker" so had assumed that she was a Sunderland AFC supporter (up until 1997 at least), which was not quite as I'd expected!

* Why have Bananas and I both lapsed into a Scottish accent??

No Good Boyo said...

Scottish is the new English by here, mun, so it's quite understandable.

The Chap is a fine publication, and a subscription to it would keep you up to date on all developments in Britain that matter. Details in my sidebar.

No, I'm not on commission. It's a matter of honour.

SnoopyTheGoon said...

Arianrhod - looks like a lovely name(esp. due to my apparent inability to pronounce it correctly) for a lovely young chick.

But somehow that name leaves a slight aftertaste of a something vaguely Nordic. Like in "Viking". All that headgear with horns and stuff.

Does she show any violent tendencies already? Like trying to chop Dad's head with a toy sword or something?

Children are extremely dangerous and should be watched, I am convinced...

No Good Boyo said...

Relax, Snoop, despite her maternal Cossack origins Arianrhod is Welsh and means "The Silver Wheel" - referring to the Moon.

"Ferch Saisladdwr" , her patronymic, you can work out yourself from the following roots:

1. merch (noun, feminine, singular) daughter

2. Sais (noun, masculine, singular) Englishman (derived from "Saxon")

3. llad (verb, infinitive) to kill, slay.

Get parsing!

Gyppo Byard said...

The tome that young Arianrhod is reading has a picture of a dervish attempting to remove the skewer placed through both cheeks for a bet by a drunken Scots officer. Fact, that is.