Thursday, April 29, 2004

"Les portes du séjour des morts ne prévaudront point contre elle.":
I comfort myself with those words from Matthew 16:18, because I have now been sniped at by what seems to be an actual Satanist. Who else would entitle their web log "Lucifer's Condiments"? The silly blogger, who thinks his mocking the Bible is amusing, must be another illustration of why The Evil One complained, in the first version of "Bedazzled", about his personified seven deadly assistants: "It's tough to get good Sins these days. It must be the wages." [Perhaps he should have considered outsourcing to the Philippines.]

In "Persecution Complex", the so-called "Devil You Know" wrote "We can't shake the feeling that when Ayn Clouter writes in French, she's slandering us." Au contraire. "Beelzebub's Bottle of Pepper Sauce" has made a frequent error, confusing me with someone else who has the same initials. That moderate punditress (who only advocated converting Muslim nations after invading them, rather than my own suggestion of sending them all straight to Allah with a massive "nuculur" attack) did call one of her books "Slander", but my own was titled "Libel", thus proving that I at least know how to use a dictionary, and believe in truth in labeling.

My own model has always been a woman who was herself a victim of one of the worst calumnies in literature. In his longest piece of leftist propaganda, that French socialist Victor Hugo wrote:
     C'était cette soeur Simplice qui n'avait menti de sa vie. Javert le savait, et la vénérait particulièrement à cause de cela.
     - Ma soeur, dit-il, êtes-vous seule dans cette chambre?
     Il y eut un moment affreux pendant lequel la pauvre portière se sentit défaillir.
     La soeur leva les yeux et répondit:
     - Oui.

Unlike me, Hugo, that pretentious self-exile when no one was pursuing him, lied. In the real world, the ever-honest Sister Simplice would have admitted that Jean Valjean was hiding behind the door, Javert would have thrown him back in prison, Cosette would have been pimped out on the street by that entrepreneurial innkeeper as soon as she reached menarche, and this dishonest paean to fleeing criminals would not have existed to inspire later musicals. "A song of angry men", indeed!! Let them remain mute.

While their history during the preliminaries to Gulf Preemption II might indicate some wisdom in bewaring of Franks bearing gifts, "Satan's Salt Cellar" should remember the words of Matthew 7:5, "Hypocrite, ôte premièrement la poutre de ton oeil, et alors tu verras comment ôter la paille de l'oeil de ton frere." Rather than trying to use patriotic Americans' reasonable prejudice against French language to arouse distrust of righteous writers, "The Adversary's Garlic Press" should just flee back to his master's home, where, we are reliably informed, the gates referred to in the title of this item are inscribed in a different language, one from the Coalition of the Willing: "Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'intrate."

[Remerciements to a reader who quickly pointed me to a page giving the html coding for all of those accent marks on the French words. The pain of entering these manually is one more argument against that country, but I don't wish to accidentally insult the "capitulards mangeurs de fromage", as Phersu accused me of referring to them.]

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