“In his great book Enthusiasm, Father Ronald Knox gives us
two examples of ‘speaking with tongues’: ‘Hippo gerosto niparos boorasti farini
O fastor sungor boorrinos epoongos menati,’ and ‘Hey amei Hassan alla do hoc
alors louvre has heo massan amor ho ti prov hir aso me.’ Of these, he says ‘The
philology of another world does not abide our question, but if we are to judge
these results merely human standards, we must admit that a child prattles no
less convincingly.’”
-
W.
H. Auden, A Certain World
As
I have become a hermit pending my resurrection later this summer following
another life change or two, I no longer have conversations in my head about
people in the Actual World who cross my path. My path these days is through the
tall grass of my own health problems and visits to medical practitioners
differing from each other only in the number of times they ask me why I am here
today. They always want to see you again in 3 months so they can ask you again.
Why.
Instead, today I managed today to file a ton of my medical and health insurance records, receipts and correspondence into some coherent form that may permit at least me to know what the hell is going on. I cleaned out the medical and insurance files in TSG's large loose leaf book file, thus killing two birds with one set of labeled tabs. My inner bureaucrat is feeling content now that the book has been repurposed to contain records of somebody still inhabiting the Actual World. And plus, the cat now has another sunny spot formerly occupied by an unstable stack of filing to be done.
I
have found that I can tolerate about 60 minutes of somebody else’s company
before I get this itching beneath my skin that threatens either to erupt into a
panic attack or manifest in some form of inappropriate behavior usually involving vulgar language. Since saying “Holy Shit” before walking out on the pharmacy
clerk at Rite Aidless who denied me my blood thinner for the fourth time, I
have not used profanity in public. Twenty days fuck-free, bitches. Out loud in public, anyway. I have avoided any occasion that might lead
to profane outbursts and/or that might take more than one hour of social intercourse with other people.
By merely human standards, I
do not prattle - convincingly or not - these days. I tried to this past weekend when
I had less than 2 oz. of honey juniper mead at 12% ABV to cheer me and myself up. Hilarity and atrial
fibrillation ensued. It took me more
than 24 hours to convert to normal sinus rhythm. I am adjusting my medications accordingly and
will resume prattling when some sort of equilibrium is reached and the
pointless appointments are done.
Meanwhile,
hippo gerosto niparos, everybody!
