PLUVIAL:
From the Latin, pluvia, pertaining to the action of rain. In this case, it is less a prediction than a demand made by Norma with her garden slate, a pluvial demand. Her garden must have pluie, no later than noon! Her demands are always reasonable. I recognize this. The universe recognizes this. By late morning, her slate turned into an example of our next word.
PLUVIOMETER:
A pluviometer is an instrument indicating the presence and intensity of rain. The slate will be cleared. Will she respond by dashing out to write "merci" upon it? No. This would entail a sweater, a coat, a hat, and she would complain of feeling "bunchy", so I think not. It is, after all, as much her universe as she is its, so no further niceties are required. We, all of us, are expressions in the the language of the universe: Nature. We say only what is needed --Bon, pluie-- or if we are ducks who speak Latin, "Qua qua!" (English translation...oh never mind).
QUAQUAVERSAL:
Quaquaversal means dipping down from the center in all directions. Locally, one considers time passing through the universe in a linear pageant of one damn thing after another, but this is not generally true. Things appear from a fog of virtuality by combination of observation and encounter. We navigate our ways through the plenum by interacting with clouds of massless virtual particles called photons. We receive no information about the universe smaller than a photon. The light from the campfire you sang "Kumbayah" around is now helping alien plants grow around Alpha Centauri and beyond. So,
Assume we move through time
In all directions, like ducks
Sliding quaquaversally
Down a sloppy knoll,
Each self-contained,
Abdominous and barely
Brained, but together
Comprising a whole--
Who knows what for?--
But a whole, and a
Whole bunch more.
Are you talking of the meaning of life Geo? Have you made a determination?
ReplyDeleteIt is what it is, and what it is, is?
Heh heh. I dunno. I just do like she tells me, John.
ReplyDeleteBeing completely unscientific, not to mention partially feather-brained, the concept of quaquaversality eluded me.
ReplyDeleteHere in arid West Texas, we have no need for the pluviometer.
(a delightful read, as always)
I love this piece, hard as it is to say why, because of its surreal absurdist burlesque nature, not unlike the writings of Alfred Jarry, the creator of 'Ubu Roi' and other 'pataphysical writings of more than a century ago See .
ReplyDeleteWhile this piece may seem at its surface tamer and not as outrageous, deeper reading begs to differ! Even though there is no ‘Merdre!’ it gets close!
Jon-- Thanks, and I'll do a rain dance on your behalf.
ReplyDeleteWillie-- Ubu would definitely warrant a turducken this Thursday. And thanks for the comment!
I found the description of a quaquaversal to be quite captivating
ReplyDeleteI spent a good bit of time sitting around a campfire singing "Kumbabya" in the '60s. Nice to know some alien plants are now reaping the benefits. As always, a fun post. I suppose if the universe hadn't been so obliging, your lovely bride would have changed the "pluie" to "phooey" on that slate, and her loving husband would have hauled out the hose.
ReplyDeleteI have always assumed that I moved through time like a duck.
ReplyDelete:-)
Pearl
Keith-- Thanks! I've always felt the word universalized the myth of Sisyphus.
ReplyDeleteSusan-- Norma's favorite fictional detective, Nero Wolfe, is always shouting "phooey!" and it always makes her laugh. And please, call me dude.
Pearl-- Yes, me too! Like a mudsled or, through the air, like a flying bowling pin, but we swim with dignity.
The more flights into surreality the better, I say. Thanks for the chuckles as always, Geo. And a very happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. x
ReplyDeleteSplendid words, concepts and universal compliance!
ReplyDeletegreat Géo
ReplyDeleteChrist, what a post. I was, at first, going to ask what is bunchy but then you went all quaquaversal on me and I just sat in the middle of the firelight and rain and opened my heart to take it in.
ReplyDelete