I said ORACLE. No orifices to see here.
I recently bought this, uhh, oracle, for the princely sum of 50 cents. I know, ripped off, I hear you say. But how could I resist a book which is 'founded on an entire new plan which never fails to reply to any question asked'.
And it's devised by Cornelius Agrippa, 'being an infallible prophet of the male sex'. I know, it gets more irresistible every minute, huh?
First published in 1857, it promises to answer questions such as...
Shall I soon be courted?
Ought I to believe the tender vows that are breathed to me?
What disposition will my husband be?
Is the repentance sincere?
Will my reputation be always good?
Have I any rivals?
...and of course the ageless classics...
Does my husband always tell me the truth?
The secret that I hide, will it be discovered?
Shall I die maid, wife or widow?
Basically, it was the first Magic 8 ball.
After choosing one of the 100 questions on offer, you close your eyes and place your finger..... NO, I SAID ORACLE, NOT ORIFICE.... upon a table printed in the book, the symbol your finger lands on corresponds to an answer to your question, yada yada yada, and there you have it, problem solved.
According to Cornelius, 'Nothing is more easy or simple, and we have seen eminent and wise men struck with astonishment at the correctness of the Oracle, and never has a work of this kind been presented to the public in such a state of perfection, and we flatter ourselves that upon a trial it will be universally admitted'.
Man, was old Cornelius an opium fiend, or what?
I decided to test it out and ran my eyes over the questions, skipping the ones about courtship (those days are long gone for me), virginity (ditto), good reputation (ditto), tender vows (way past that, 'are you awake?' is as good as it gets now), forgiveness (you've got to be fucking kidding), children (vasectomy took care of that), answering letters (what are letters?), long voyages (I hate flying), and what opinion the world has of me (I really don't give a fat rat's clacker).
The first question I chose was 'Will my husband make me happy?'
Close eyes, waggle finger, poke page, open eyes, have landed on symbol of one triangle. Check chart... Q23, one triangle, go to page 38.
Answer: 'Yes, every other day'
What the fuck? Only 50% of the time? That's not what I signed up for almost 24 years ago. So, he's only made me happy for 12 of those years? Pretty shit odds, I reckon.
In that case, let's try this one then. 'How many husbands shall I have?'
Eyes, finger, 3 squares, page 65.
Answer: 'Several in jest, and one who will cause you to weep'
I have no idea what this means. Several in jest? I'll marry them for a joke? Or I'll marry several clowns? I understand the one who will make me weep, coz if he's only making me happy 50% of the time, I'm crying the other 50%. Jeez.
Here's a good one. 'Has my husband loved any other woman as much as he loves me?'
Eyes, finger, 4 triangles, page 86.
Answer: 'As much, yes... more, no.'
My husband is in SOOOOOOO much trouble when he gets home. Stupid Oracle.
Bit scared of this one. 'Does my husband believe me to be really virtuous?'
Eyes, finger, 1 triangle, page 85.
Answer: 'He must be a simpleton to think so'
Right. Moving on...
Safer territory here. 'Will my life be peaceful or agitated?'
Eyes, finger, 1 square, page 25.
Answer: 'If you agitate the ocean you must expect a storm'
No wonder I get seasick. Of course I agitate it when I'm only happy 50% of the time, you idiot Cornelius.
This will be interesting. 'Have I any enemies?'
Eyes, finger, 3 striped squares, page 98.
Answer: 'None to be really feared'
As if. *looks over shoulder*
Oh dear. 'When shall I cease to love?'
Eyes, finger, 2 squares, page 43.
Answer: 'Very soon'
Not surprising, since I'm only 50% happy and he loved someone else as much as me. Cornelius is a wanker.
Oooh, good one. 'The wish that I have at this moment, will it be gratified?'
Eyes, finger, 1 triangle, page 8.
Answer: 'That is impossible'
Yeah, coz Cornelius is already dead.
Another risky one. 'Shall I be loved long?'
Eyes, finger, 3 striped squares, page 84.
Answer: 'It would be impossible to love you long'
Fuck you and your fucking oracle, Cornelius, you stupid arrogant twat.
Right, fuck this, final one. 'Will my husband have much intelligence?'
Eyes, finger, 1 circle, page 10.
Answer: 'Happily much less than you'
Cornelius is a fucking genius, he's really onto something here. Love it.
Monday, June 13, 2011
I recently wrote a post (which I cannot link to because Blogger swallowed it whole, plus comments, when it had conniptions) about somebody dying and people saying loads of really nice things about her, when my only experiences with the deceased led me to believe she was a grumpy old bitch.
This has led me to wondering what people will say about me if I should lose the plot and decide to blowdry my hair whilst under the shower tomorrow. I would hope people would be honest. I don't expect schmaltzy stuff, I expect the truth.
I needed to make myself smile today, so I came up with what I think I would (like to) overhear if I eavesdropped on various conversations at my own wake.
She was funny.
So bloody funny.
She made me wet myself once.
I loved how loud she was.
God, so loud.
She made me fart in public once.
She was a great listener.
She never listened, she never shut up long enough.
She certainly said what she thought.
She gave good advice.
She gave crap advice.
Her advice was to drink wine.
She listened to my advice.
She never took advice.
She always did what she was told.
She always did whatever the hell she wanted.
Jeez, she was funny.
She was so passionate.
She was so laid-back.
She was lazy.
Remember how loud she was?
I remember the time I saw her 10 times in 3 weeks.
I remember the time I didn't see her for 3 years.
She was a great friend.
She was a lazy friend.
Remember how sweet and kind and gentle she was?
I once thought she was anorexic.
I once thought she would explode.
She was such a div.
What's a div?
Oh yeah, she was a div.
She was funny.
She was a clown.
She could be mean.
She could be generous.
She was a sucker.
She was so rude.
Remember that time when she got drunk and fell over/dropped something/broke something/swore loudly/sang loudly?
Hah, which time?
Remember that time she was really quiet?
I thought she was a snob in high school coz she was one of the 'populars'. I was wrong.
I thought she was a snob when her kids were at school coz she was one of the 'cool mums'. I was wrong.
No, actually, you were right.
She always knew the right thing to say.
She always said the wrong thing.
At least she always said what she thought.
I'm going to miss her.
I'm not, I haven't seen her for ages.
Me either, I'm just here for the food and beer.
She threw good parties.
Okay, I'll miss her parties.
She made me laugh.
She made me cry.
She made me go 'what the fuck?'
Where's the toilet?
Go behind a bush.
She'll kill me, she loves her garden.
She's dead, she won't care now.
She had a way with words.
She was amusing.
She was interesting.
I never knew what penis marbles were until I met her.
I never had to wear Tena Lady until I met her.
I felt old when I was with her.
I felt young when I was with her.
She was funny.
Sort of funny.
Remember how lovingly she talked about her life?
She was good at netball/tennis/Scrabble/writing/everything.
She was competitive.
She was a sore loser.
Is there more wine?
Coz she's not here to drink it all.
She liked a drink.
She was a pisshead.
She was smart.
She hid it well.
She never rang me.
Be grateful, she rang me once and I couldn't shut her up.
She liked to talk.
She was bubbly.
I thought she didn't drink bubbly?
She was loud.
I loved it.
Gave me a headache.
Do you remember when she did that thing, with the thing?
Maybe you weren't there.
God, she was funny.
Don't mention God, she wouldn't like it.
She wouldn't care.
She would laugh.
She was so intense.
She was so casual.
What a funny lady.
What a crazy lady.
She was a great godmother.
She was a great friend.
She was a great wife.
She was the best mother.
Do you remember that time she climbed Everest?
Who the hell are you?
Oh, am I at the wrong funeral?