Fiction, Ltd. Story #042 explanation and main page

Then came the Holy One, blessed be He, and slew the Angel of Death that
killed the chef that cooked the bread that inspired the meal that reunited
the family that shared the money that embittered the founder that started
the company that produced the gadget that solved the problem that confound-
ed the immigrant that left the commonwealth that banned the seasoning that
saved the roast that pleased the grandfather that hosted the dinner that
mollified the niece that took the shower that drew the gaze that gratified
the guest that summoned the cousin that rigged the election that elevated
the mayor that ruined the city that welcomed the company that produced the
gadget that prevented the collapses that plagued the pontifexes that joined
the islands that comprised the province that needed the trade that followed
the prohibition that spawned the pirates that smuggled the seasoning that
surprised the uncle that tested the roast that discolored the cheesecloth
that hid the drugs that wired the heir that outgrew the drugs that liber-
ated the mercenaries that defended the province that grew the drugs that
liberated the mercenaries that hated the province that squandered the pros-
perity that rewarded the regent that quashed the religion that forbade the
practice that thrilled the men that took the wives that fled the dominion
that challenged the province that sheltered the monk that invented the
contraption that survived the ages that preceded the accident that killed
the drunkard that scaled the contraption that funded the carnival that
fought the regulation that imposed the inspector that condemned the ferris
wheel that condemned the drunkard that raised the girl that checked the
clock that showed the time that started the banquet that fed the ingrates
that spurned the home that held the memories that alienated the woman that
chased the poet that published the verses that scandalized the country that
succeeded the dominion that expunged the monk that wrote the words

	So long as The God does not see fit
	To create a single living thing perfect
	One beast follows another

that justified the monarch that abandoned the throne that held the queen
that bore the son that raised the daughter that raised the son that raised
the son that raised the son that raised the chef that clutched the chest
that held the heart that skipped the beats that scared the chef that hurr-
ied the recipe that required the seasoning that flavored the goat my
father bought for two zebeks... one little goat!

written for Yoz Grahame in my living room 10/30/01

Yoz's words: seven-thirty, ferris wheel, commonwealth, shower, gaze, chasing, Chad Gadya.

I met Yoz in Illumination Village at Burning Man, where he was the village's volunteer radio, walking around announcing the time and other important information through a megaphone. These words all relate to Ill Vill, so I found it harder than usual to discard the associations I already had with them to write something fictional. Whine whine whine.

What's going on here is that "Chad Gadya" is a Jewish folk song from the same family of accumulative lyrics as "The House That Jack Built". The last verse is

And came The Holy One Blessed be He and killed the angel of death
that killed the slaughterer 
that killed the ox 
that drank the water 
that doused the fire 
that hit the dog 
that bit the cat 
that ate the kid 
that daddy bought for two zuzim. One kid! One kid!
It's usually sung at the end of a Passover dinner. The one obstacle I didn't consider until after I'd started writing was that the time sequence in the song is unambiguous (and uni-directional). I got around this using things that have a lasting abstract existence, like countries, spices and inventions, but I have a feeling that didn't make it any easier to read. A few people have told me that my stories are too dense, and this is NOT a perverse reaction to that -- just something I thought would be fun.

There's a mismatch between quoting "Chad Gadya" and then inventing an unreal religion out of narrative convenience. I tried to clarify the fictionality of the whole thing by putting the odd locution "The God" in the mouth of my poet. And "zebeks"... the end could use some cleaning up.

- everything is by Aaron Mandel; please ask first if you're about to steal something -

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