Klarinet Archive - Posting 001123.txt from 1999/01

From: LeliaLoban@-----.com
Subj: [kl] leaving equipment on stand
Date: Wed, 20 Jan 1999 22:52:32 -0500

I'm making my pet human type this for me. I could type much better than a
clumsy human if I wanted to, but I wouldn't lower myself. My name is Shadow.
(You may call me, "She Who Must Be Obeyed.") I haven't been able to make my
human see reason, but perhaps I can persuade some of you. Oh, I know it's
probably a hopeless cause, trying to talk sense to people dumb enough to put
the Screech Stick Demon in your mouths, where it sucks away at your souls.
But even if you insist on associating with this unclean instrument, then the
least you can do is make yourselves marginally useful, for once, by convincing
my stupid human to leave her Screech Stick assembled and unguarded. Then I
can save her from herself by knocking it over and tumbling it down the stairs
and killing it, for her own good. I'm sure that the cat who owns you would
gladly do the same for you. We're benevolent that way, even to the unworthy.

I've already exorcised the house of one such Lesser Demon. One day I spied a
nasty little horror of a soprano recorder lounging insolently on my pet
human's piano bench. I hopped up there, rolled the miniature monstrosity off
and wrestled it all the way across the floor and down the stairs. Despite its
menacing squeals when held and protected by the stupid human, when it had to
fight for itself, it revealed the full shame of its cowardice. Oh, how it
struggled and begged for mercy as I tortured it, but I remained relentless,
grim and implacable. I taught that wicked little monster never to make
another squeak again and I'll do the same to its big brother, the Screech
Stick Demon. I'll teach that misbegotten illegitimate juvenile progeny of the
Vacuum Cleaner Devil not to warble its disgusting ditties in my house!

You humans are so naive about these things. You're genetically inferior to
cats and so deeply sunk in barbarism that you really can't help yourselves, I
suppose, but you should allow cats to act in your interests more often. I
suspect you don't even realize that what you're "practicing" on that Screech
Stick is the ancient cult religion "practiced" by worshippers of the Vacuum
Cleaner Devil. I've seen my human evoke the Vacuum Devil from the closet and
follow it around as its doting acolyte, as it sucks up the fur I leave as
sacred offerings at my Shrines to the Heater God. This all comes of playing
the clarinet. You see how small sins unrepented grow into grievous sacrilege.

The Vacuum Devil has taught its little Screech Stick Demon to scream hymns of
praise to the Anti- Cat, served by its minions, the Infernal Waste Management
Vehicles (a euphemism for Gar**ge Tr**ks) that roam the neighborhood. My pet
human leaves offerings to the Anti-Cat at the curb every week. Utterly
oblivious to the offensiveness of this ritual, she even offers it the soiled
sand from my litter box! All up and down the street, other humans do the
same. Nobody properly buries anything. They offer up all manner of offal for
the minions of the Anti-Cat to bear off in triumph to its foul lair, known as
The Waste Management Facility, although it has another much older and more
hideous name, The C**nty D*mp. The brave feline spies in the D*mp have
reported back to the rest of us, by hisses passed along in secret, about the
goings-on there. This really must stop, and the place to begin is by
exterminating every Screech Stick Demon while it's still young, before it can
reach adulthood as a Vacuum Cleaner Devil and breed more of its loathsome
kind. I suspect they can begin breeding even earlier, as bass clarinets, and
possibly even at the alto clarinet stage. This place is already infested with
an alto clarinet. I'm keeping my eyes on it.

A nice bass sax, now, or a pedal rank of the pipe organ, that's different.
Bass voices are holy. Some cats are too stricken with fear and awe to listen,
but others such as myself have reached a higher plane of wisdom that permits
us to appreciate these sublime and mighty purrs. But soprano instruments
shriek an obscene parody of these great pipes. My human might argue that cats
also sing in soprano voices. Yes, but with a difference: we do so to express
our great humility; while soprano clarinets and suchlike sing nothing but a
mockery of feline prayer and express nothing but the banality of evil. I make
exception for the Saxello, which may possibly be the larval form of the bass
sax, although I suspect (judging by its vulgar language) that the Saxello is
really a clarinet in disguise. I'm watching it closely to see if I can catch
a glimpse of it in its true form.

I don't know why I put up with that human. After all the time and care I
lavish on producing my sacred hairballs, she flushes them down the toilet!
Wastes them! The lunacy! She will not believe that hairballs are cunning
magickal traps I set for the evil Altissimo Sprites that can't resist creeping
in and investigating them, only to become hopelessly entangled in the
labyrinthine harmonic intricacies of the interior. (Well, what should I
expect from someone who can't even wash with her tongue? She's been polluting
her tongue on disgusting clarinet reeds until it's so short she can't even
lick her back feet. So how does the fool wash herself? By standing under
running water every day! No wonder she's brain-damaged.) In case you didn't
know, you're supposed to leave the hairball for several hours until it dries,
indicating that it's full of Altissimo Sprites that have drunk up the saliva
and gastric juices, which render the sprites unconscious. Then and only then,
it's safe to take the hairball out back and bury it, Altissimo Sprites and
all. As it is, the idiot lets more sprites out of the clarinet every day
(they begin life as parasites in the register tube and in the damp places in
the tone holes, you know) and now they're running amok all over the house.
Someday they'll peel back the walls and a Gar**ge Tr**k will get in here and
then she'll be sorry.

Shadow Cat
c/o Lelia Loban Stupid Human
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The feline brain is a model of delicately engineered efficiency. The human
brain is bloated and squishy, and tastes about the way you'd expect, although
it will do in a famine."
--Bastet, "The Sublime Wisdom of Bast"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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