Eso’s Chronicles 223 / 9
Before the Polis
© Eso A.B.

When around the small ancient temples in the wood there began to congregate solitary wanderers and herders of forest animals, who eventually became the inhabitants of this new ground, there came a time when the new residents forgot that they owed their new abode, its ground and the surrounding wood special reverence. The reverence was by virtue of the fact that beginning with the temple http://ultima0thule.blogspot.com/2012_02_26_archive.html , which evolved out of the shaman’s shack, the succeeding city and landscape became a virtual, and no longer an organic entity.

When the inhabitants of the virtual city forgot that their home (a cave, a lean to, a tent) was built on what at its origin was believed to be sacred ground, they, noting the size of their congregation, puffed up with conceit, at first only to dangerous, later, to catastrophic levels. The catastrophe arose from the fact that as the city expanded—or as some say ‘sprawled’—it forgot that its origins were not organic, but were founded on a virtual space. In due course, mechanized vehicles, known as ‘cars’, small houses on wheels, radiated out of the city on roads which consumed the wood and the countryside, and persuaded the inhabitants of the wood to desire a city’s luxuries, which could be got only by moving to the city. In practical terms, this meant exchanging simple sandals for spit-shined shoes; because women were invited to support the army city-zens (zens=gens=jens=Johns*), their shoes were raised on high heels, so that the Johns could prick then more easily. Some of the saints castrated themselves in disgust.

However, the passage to the city even by a -zens had to be earned; first, by paying to the city’s king or prince taxes in the form of animal pelts (which meant slaughtering the reindeer cows which the wood people had heretofore herded only for the sake of their milk), later, by axing trees and replacing them with what was called ‘farm country’, where the reindeer were replaced with castrated buffalo known as oxen, and trees were replaced by stalks of grain, which, when compared to the wood, were easier to exploit and tax. The pet frog of the shaman, which he kept in the swamp because of its oracle-like croak and which he called The Sphinx, was driven from her abode and transferred to the desert that evolved out of the city’s dump in the image of a lioness cut our of sandstone rock.

As human beings were driven from the wood, they naturally wished to bring their form of political life known as polycracy (later ‘democracy’) to the city. It was not an easy thing to do, and indeed was never accomplished. As we know, as a consequences of such regimented structures, which some call ‘little boxes’ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlSpc87Jfr0 and are taken advantage of by spy organizations such as the NSA, readily attach themselves as leeches to them, and writers of detective and spy novels gain popularity as they try to figure out how the murder was done. Of course, with the arrival of the ‘victorious’ NSA, we are witness to the death of spy stories. When a society reaches the point where a government installs an agency such as the NSA, it becomes a political failure. This is the situation facing us today: in the cities of our day neither democracy or urbanity are any longer possible--not even in our wildest dreams.

If my thesis is correct, must we now return to the wood? Yes, in a sense. Even some economists at the Rubini Ecomonitor blog argue that the Tea Party is made up largely of Old Confederates for whom the Federal Government remains the ‘enemy’ http://www.economonitor.com/blog/2013/10/the-decline-of-the-united-states/?utm_source=contactology&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=EconoMonitor%20Highlights%3A%20Armageddon%20Here%20We%20Come%21  

The wood is the origin of democracy not only for human beings, but wildlife, too. Unfortunately, hunters from urban areas have never heard that the wood stands for humankind’s original home. In the area where I live, just a week ago some young men, on opening day of the hunting season—so I am told—shot two moose calves, and were so exited or ashamed of their ‘success’ that they so completely wasted themselves on alcohol that, fortunately, they did not go hunting the following day. However one thinks of such manifestations of barbarism, one cannot escape noting that violence continues to be acceptable to a significant element of Latvian society even though it has itself been repeatedly violated by wars and occupations. The long duree of history (also maladie longue duree) of culture apparently continues to believe that ‘progress’ can be had for ‘free’ with just a ‘little’ applications of violence. After all, hunting moose hurts no human beings, and what is the life of the calf of a moose or a Palestinian when compared to the life of a Latvian or Israeli? As yet—so the imbedded thinking goes—if a government claims itself ‘democratic’ and says that hunting is okay; it must be so, and I can play at being dumb without consequences.

Our response to such a attitudes ought be a prayer for catastrophe, because not a few wise men have said that significant changes occur only when humankind is faced by a catastrophe. At the time of this writing, such a catastrophe has two ongoing pathways, one signaling to the right, the other to the left: 1) through a war on Syria and then on to  Russia http://www.infowars.com/top-nuke-commanders-fired-following-missing-nuclear-warheads-report/ ; or 2) through the U.S. government not raising the debt ceiling, declaring the government bankrupt, http://www.globalresearch.ca/the-shutdown-of-the-u-s-government-and-debt-default-a-dress-rehearsal-for-the-privatization-of-the-federal-state-system/5354066 and therewith privatizing war. In the event of the last, some private corporations are likely to announce recruitment drives for a private army, promising to ‘pay’ only through plunder of ‘enemy’ assets. As the Syrian crisis appears to have abated as a result of Russian fears of war, it is not surprising that 2) is in ascent.

And then? I would opt for regress in time and a return to government led by a shaman, who when all his magic potions failed him, reversed himself and became a self-sacrificing king.

*zens=gens. Those who have followed my blogs will know that I believe these cognates to originally have stood for the name of God, re: Gans, Ian, Ivan, Jans, Jean, Gans, etc.

 

Eso’s Chronicles 153
The Thumbsucker’s War for Human Rights (2)
© Eso A.B.

Air Brush

If one is to take seriously what J.D. Salinger wrote and what Mark Chapman read to the court as the statement why he assassinated John Lennon, re: “…I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids….” (see end of previous blog), and if one is to understand the text literally and has ever seen a real field of rye http://static5.depositphotos.com/1003699/523/i/950/depositphotos_5237387-Country-road-through-rye-fieldcountry-road-through-rye-field.jpg , it makes for either an absurd picture or a scene of vandals on the loose.

A farmer coming to a field of trampled rye would swear that the next time he will come with a shotgun to punish the culprits by spraying buckshot at their legs.

If one wishes to take the sentiments of Mark Chapman as signifying more than a literal interpretation of the text, one has to re-imagine that in place of the ‘rye’ there is a wood, and that the wood stands for the Sphinx in Sophocle’s well known play “King Oedipus”. The thousand ‘little kids’ then become the sacrifices the Thebans bring to the wood to appease their near uncontrollable desire to go hedonistically ‘wild’ after spending a life time of living in a city. The pain and suffering caused by the loss of their children to the Sphinx, keeps the City of Thebes a relatively orderly city inspite of everyone being unhappy.

As some readers may already suspect, Prince Oedipus, who is fleeing the home that he has imagined as that of his parents (in the kingdom of Cithaeron), comes to a wood, better, a sacred grove—the maw of the Sphinx, so to speak—and discovers that children are wandering aimlessly and lost until they die of hunger or cold, or fall down a deep chasm that bisects the grove. The chasm is known as the “Cithaeron chasm”.

At the edge of the chasm stands a temple dedicated to the Sphinx (who stands for the mystery of the wood). When any of the lost children happen to come upon the temple, they are greeted by the priest Tiresias. Tiresias offers each child an apple. After the apple has been eaten, Tiresias gives each child two bird feathers, leads them to a platform at the edge of the chasm, stands them close to the edge of the platform, and asks them to start swinging their arms as if they are the wings of a bird. Tiresias also asks the children to close their eyes and imagine that they are flying. When the children do as Tiresias suggests, he gives each child a push, and the child loses balance and falls into the chasm.

It happens that Prince Oedipus (impersonated by Mark Chapman) comes to the wood and the temple at just the right moment. As Chapman walks up the temple path, he sees Tiresias push a child over the edge of the cliff. He hears the child (all are boy children) scream, then he sees Tiresias walk back to the temple, where he is awaited by Mark’s father—John Lennon, a well known entertainer in the city of Thebes.

Lennon is Marks father from a liaison he had as a teenager with a young woman older than he. The young woman was so taken by the teenager’s voice, that after the concert, she invited the young singer to her bedroom.

When the young woman discovered herself pregnant, her young lover was on a concert tour, and though she wrote him several letters, her letters got lost among the fan mail. Because pregnancy was not something the young woman expected, and because she came from a strict Catholic family, she sold the new born infant to a family of gypsies, who were raising children for the purposes of human sacrifice practiced by another religion in a far away kingdom on the other side of a mountain ridge known as Cithaeron Mountains.

All would have gone well, except the young woman gave her young son a name, Mark. She never forgot the name.

There is a strange word about; it is little known; and it is also not wholly understood. The word is known among linguists and artists as ‘pareidolia’. Pareidolic associations are associations most commonly found in words and images http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pareidolia . What is not so well known is that pareidolia may also happen as an event or a series of events.

It happened that the young woman was forced by circumstances to earn her living as a prostitute. This is how she met Charles. Charles happened to be the king of France. Charles fell in love with Joan and wished to marry her. Because he was also a Catholic, Charles had to ask the priests of his court what they thought about the idea. When the priests asked Charles why he had to marry this particular young woman, one with a reputation for being a sinner besides, Charles could not think of a good answer.

What King Charles eventually said was: “Because her name is Joan.”

“So, what in the hell makes Joan so different from other such?” the Council of priests wanted to know.

“You see,” answered King Charles, “Joan comes from Arc. It is said that all Frenchmen are descended from the Johns of Arc. Joan says that she knows we are in a civil war with the Burgundian English, who say that their Johns are better than our French Johns. She claims that when the French Johns hear that the Queen of France is called Joan, they all will get a rise, and I, King Charles, will win the war as a result.”

The Catholic priests had a long discussion among themselves. It was not so long ago that they had suppressed the French Johns and driven them from the wood where most of them had resided. The French priests needed to cut down the wood to fire the bricks they needed to build their cathedrals. On the other hand, it was true that the Burgundies (and English) were getting the upper hand in the civil war, and the French would soon have to ask the Germans to come help. The Germans were known to be materialists and would agree to help. But this would cost the French king many of France’s eastern provinces, and the French would be squeezed between the Germans and the English more than ever. In the end, the Catholic priests agreed that king Charles and Joan of Arc could marry.

After she was married to King Charles, Queen Joan found in the royal mail a letter from the kingdom of Cithaeron, which kingdom was on the other side of the Cithaeron Mountains. The letter offered to sell to King Charles a dozen gypsy children for the sacrificial needs of the court. Joan noticed that one of the children had a name. It was—Mark.

Queen Joan of Arc immediately suspected that Mark was her son by John Lennon, who besides being an entertainer, had invested in the lucrative business of selling children for sacrificial purposes. John was an excellent salesman, because most of his songs were not only entertaining (re: “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqXmBy1_qOQ ), but proselytized for peace. Everyone knew there could not be peace without sacrifice of life.

It is a long story of how it all worked out. There remains the story of how Queen Joan persuaded Mark to leave his home at Cithaeron Beach by telling him he was destined to marry his mother and kill his father. A rewritten version of the antique version is at http://oedipusrexrewritten.blogspot.com . However, if we want to learn about the adventures of Mark, we must—without further ado—explain that just as Tiresias was offered a wagonload of smutty children (all of who had been promised a trip to see ‘a sky filled with diamonds’), one of them shouted: “My name is Mark, and I don’t want to die. There are no diamonds in the sky! Those are only stars!”

At that instant, Mark realized that (for some pareidolic reason) he himself could be that boy. Mark instantly went into an attack mode. He managed to shoot Lennon dead in no time. As for Tiresias, Mark tied him up, and ordered him to order the temple staff to find all the children who were wandering lost in the wood. After the children were on the road and marching to Thebes, Mark took a large branch out of the bonfire and stuck and ground the burning end of the branch into both of Tiresias’ eyes.

The story would have ended there and then (as it would have if Joan had not given her son a name), except that Mark did not understand that even though he became a hero to the Thebans for putting an end to child sacrifices, he could stay a hero only if he replaced the sacrifices of children with the sacrifice of himself.

© Eso Antons Benjamins, a.k.a. Jaņdžs

NOT-VIOLENT TERROR
76 Climbing Mt. Citheron (IX)

There is yet a thirteenth death in “Tiresias’ Revenge”. It is the death of the Sphinx, the chimera of child sacrifice child sacrifice that has been haunting Thebes.

When fleeing Corinth—in order to escape the prediction that he is about to kill his father and marry his mother—and on his way to Thebes, Oedipus meets and kills his father. Sophocles presents the scene as if it is a fated accident. We are told that King Laius and Oedipus meet on the road, but neither of the parties identify themselves, and both try to push each other off the road. The fight over who has the right of way escalates into a deadly fight. In the melee, the captain of Prince Oedipus’ bodyguard kills Laius, the king of Thebes.

After the “victory”, Oedipus continues his journey until he reaches the temple of the Sphinx. The temple is not far from Thebes. The Sphinx, we are told, is plaguing the city of Thebes. The Sphinx will continue to plague Thebes, that is, demand the city to sacrifice its young for its dinner, until someone is brave enough to come before it and answer its ridiculously simple riddle: Who walks in the morning on four, at noon on two, and in the evening on three legs? The answer is “man”, at least this is the answer that everyone in the last two thousand years plus (according to Scaligeri’s chronology) has accepted as being the right answer.

One may accept the given answer as the correct one. On the other hand, we should not forget that the third leg, which is not a nature made instrument, but an instrument made by man, may be presumed to be other than a cane. After a crawl on all fours and learning to stand upright, the hands may hold more than a stick. This is to say that after learning to walk, one may support himself on a spear, a sword, or a rifle. The instrument need not be associated with the physiological nature of man. It may be an instrument that is typical to a cultural ethos.

In any event, Oedipus and his father do not meet each other by accident as Sophocles misleads us to believe. To the contrary, the meeting has been prearranged by Queen Iocaste, the wife of King Laius and mother of Prince Oedipus. The Queen knows that on a certain morning the King is to go and pick up a wagon full of children he has bought from some traders for sacrifice to the Sphinx. The purchase is in lieu of having to sacrifice the children of Thebes.

The Queen arranges an as if accidental meeting by conspiring with her sister, Queen Merope of Corinth. [The history of the two sisters is discussed in greater detail in “Tiresias’ Revenge” (blog 47)]. The captain of the guard which accompanies Prince Oedipus’ flight from Corinth is informed of King Laius’ upcoming transaction, and is to take advantage of the circumstances and kill the king.

In terms of the story, we need to understand that Prince Oedipus’ journey to the temple is not so much the next episode of the play as it is a continuation of action that began at the crossroad where the exchange of the children for payment took place. In short, the death of King Laius is to be identified with the death of the Sphinx. This identification need not be made by anyone else but Queen Iocaste, because it is she who starts the story of Oedipus by refusing to expose him to the elements on Mt. Citheron, which will put him at risk of becoming a sacrifice to the Gods of Fate. Since the Sphinx has wings, we may imagine that he-she could fly from the temple to Mt. Cytheron and snatch the royal child exposed there and deny him life and the right to become part of the royal retinue. Queen Iocaste has a plan that may outwit the Sphinx.

There is no need here to tell the details of the original plot of Sophocles. What we know is sufficient to understand that Sophocles wrote a riddling play from which a number of essential elements of plot have been removed or have been so abstracted as to make the play a riddle. The most likely reason for creating the riddle is political repression. Since the political repression may be for the purpose of ridding society of self-sacrifice by identifying it with the sacrifice of children, the censure and repressive force can only come from a hierarchical society in which self-sacrifice—from the point of view of its elite—is undesirable. Self-sacrifice is an individualistic act in that it is unpredictable (subject to the subjectivity of the individual) and may cast doubt on the authority of those at the top of the pyramid, especially if those at the top have no intention of doing self-sacrifice themselves. Rather than submit their lives to fate, they rather enjoy the “pleasures of life”, albeit a diminished life in that it asks for itself no more than a leisurely drift to Hades via a river called Yana, G(Y)anges, D(Y)on, D(Y)onava, or D(Y)au(n)gava.

As mentioned in earlier blogs, other than sacrifices made during the violent times of Latvia’s founding, Latvia had two distinct opportunities for self-sacrifice in the twentieth century. One was in 1940, when the President Karlis Ulmanis could have (but did not) self-sacrifice himself in the face of the ultimatum to the nation by the Soviet Union, because Latvia had no chance of winning a fight against the aggressor, except make it a symbolic act. The other was in the years immediately after the fall of the Soviet Union, when the post-Soviet Latvian government was on its way to becoming so corrupted that it was obvious (though not necessarily noticed) to most people outside the government, and one Adolfs Bukhis (1993). The latter attempted to redeem the government’s failure by protesting the direction the government by sacrificing his life. His effort was denied recognition by both the post-Soviet Latvian government and its media.

One may object by saying that the troubles of Thebes have little to do with the troubles of Latvia. As the saying goes: yes and no. In this writer’s opinion, we shouldremember that the story of King Oedipus is

1. not as “ancient” as we are led to believe it to be by the Scaligeri chronology (I am inclined to agree with Anatoly Fomenko’s suggestions as to the reliability of orthodox history);
2. fails to confront the interests of a secular and fundamentally laissez faire prince (government) to repress self-sacrifice;
3. substitutes self-sacrifice with a return of child sacrifice, but in place of children, places young immature men and woman, re soldiers;
4. leaves the elite occupy the summit of the power pyramid, where it never makes a sacrifice, but frequently changes chairs of office among its members to escape coming into focus of the public.

The substitution of self-sacrifice and child sacrifice with “war sacrifice” by modern government confirms that our modern orientation of rule is toward maximum, rather than minimum use of violence and terror as the tool of authority for keeping government in power. This keeps the weak bonds of community weak and under the control of the government. Invariably such power is usurped power. How long will it endure? If once the answer was “not for ever”, today it is “not for long”.

Asterisk & Notes of Interest:
On material depravation in Latvia. 
On the theme of “more-equal-than-others” George Orwell's AnimalFarm.  
A recommended read: “The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism” by Emmanuel Goldstein (A book within a book from George Orwell's "1984" )  
Of great interest to me is this and like articles. It presents some of my reasons for supporting the growing of Johns Grass in Latvia.
These blogs tend to be a continuum of an idea or thought, which is why—if you are interested in what you read—you are encouraged to consider reading the previous blog and the blog hereafter.
Partial entries of my blogs may be found at LatviansOnline + Forum Home + Open Forum –ONLATVIANPOPULISM vs LATVIJASLABEJIE. If you copy this blog for your files, or copy to forward, or otherwise mention its content, please credit the author and http://esoschroniclnes.blogspot.com/  

© Eso Antons Benjamins

NOT-VIOLENT TERROR
45 Tiresias Revenge (V)

This blog continues a play called “Tiresias Revenge”.

The play runs from blog 40 through 47. I wrote it many years ago using various sources for the text of King Oedipus, all scholarly books as I remember. Who would read this stuff? Nevertheless, I hope you read it. The people of Latvia and their descendants abroad should find it interesting and pertaining to them. For blogs discussing populism, go to blog 40 or before and following 47.

Scene Four

(The stage remains unchanged. Enter messenger from Corinth.)

Messenger: Good day, dear people.
Is this Latvia?
Is this where King Oedipus lives?

Chorus: Welcome to Latvia stranger.
The king is with us.

Messenger: Will someone ask him to receive me?
I have important news concerning his father.

Chorus (obviously surprised): Already! Gods!
We have been waiting for you.
Who are you? Where are you from?

Messenger: I’m from Lithuania.

Chorus: Guards! Call King Oedipus!
There is important news from Lithuania.

(Enter King Oedipus.)

King Oedipus: News from Kaunas is always welcome.
How are its King and Queen?

Messenger: King Oedipus!
May children love you to the end of time.
Humankind will not forget your deeds.
May forget-me-nots bloom in your remembrance.
I beg your forgiveness.
I bring news of sorrow.

King Oedipus: I already have plenty of sorrows.
Do you not have something better?

Messenger: Yes, of course.
When the Sun shines behind the clouds,
it rings its fleece with gold.

King Oedipus: It is a fair sight.
But is it more than speech?

Messenger: Yes, King Oedipus!
The citizens of Lithuania want
you to be their king.
I’ve been sent in the hope
I will return with news you accept.

King Oedipus: What has happened to the king?

Messenger: King Oedipus, this part of the message
will bring you sadness:
The King of Lithuania, your father, is dead.

King Oedipus: Gods! What did he die of?

Messenger: When one is old,
even a small matter may cause death.

Chorus (interrupting): King Oedipus, excuse me!
If the news is painful, it is also good.
Your kingdom is doubled!
Latvia will be twice the size it is presently.
This is the answer to our prayers from the Gods.

King Oedipus: Guards, go call the Queen!
Messenger, your news is good indeed.
No disrespect, I love my father,
but the cloud is indeed gold edged.
You will surely get your share of it.

(Enter Queen Iocasta.)

Queen Iocasta, the King of Lithuania,
my father, has died.

Queen Iocasta: I sorrow for him and you.

King Oedipus: The citizens of Lithuania
want me to be their king.

Queen Iocasta: Did I not say all will be well?

King Oedipus (suddenly crestfallen):
I almost forgot.
How could I forget!
I mean, the other half of the witch’s story.
Messenger! Go back where you came from.
Thank your people for their trust in me,
but I cannot accept their offer.

Queen Iocasta: Oedipus, forget stories told by witches.
The witches are gone with the Sphinx.

King Oedipus: It is well only
if my mother were dead, too.

Chorus: King, think what you say.

Queen Iocasta: I thought you called me to hear good news.

King Oedipus: I had forgotten the curse.

Messenger: King Oedipus,
I do not understand.
Did you mention your mother?
What curse?

King Oedipus: Yes, my mother.
Yes, a curse.

Messenger: What makes you fear your mother?
She always speaks kindly of you.

King Oedipus: I fear an old curse.
Your visit brings it to mind.

Messenger: I beg a thousand forgivenesses.
But if it is not a secret,
what is the curse?

King Oedipus: A long time ago a witch came
with a prophecy
that I would bed my mother
and spill my father’s blood.

Queen Iocasta: The message from Kaunas
proves the curse has no weight.
You are soon king of two kingdoms.
As for sleeping with your mother,
many sons taken from their mother’s breast too soon,
dream bedding with her as grown men.

Messenger: Is that what you fear?

King Oedipus: I did not want to kill my father.
I did not want to bed my mother.
That is why I sought my fortune
elsewhere than Lithuania.

Messenger: Great King, let me ease your mind.

King Oedipus: Do if you can.
Else I will never come near Kaunas.

Messenger: King, you have been told lies.
Your fears have no basis.

King Oedipus: How can that be?
Dare you contradict me?

Messenger: The King and Queen of Lithuania
were not your real parents.
Though you are their heir,
you are their stepson by a mother unknown.

King Oedipus: I just promised you gold
and you are already betting your neck.

Messenger: I swear this is true.
The King and Queen of Lithuania
had no children of their own.
Then the Gods put you in my arms.
And I put you in theirs.

King Oedipus: What is this?
You put me in their arms?
Who put me in yours?

Messenger: A friend of mine,
a goatherd.
He found you on the mountain ridge
of Mt. Citheron,
between Riga and Shauliai.
I took you and carried you to our city.

King Oedipus: How did I, how did you
happen on the mountain?

Messenger: When I was young, I was a goatherd, too.
You were left in the mountains
as an offering to the Sphinx.
My friend found you and withdrew the loop
that bound your ankles.

King Oedipus: Who did such a thing?

Messenger: Child sacrifice was not uncommon then.
Such offerings were made by many
to summon favor from the Gods.
People in despair did it.
So did kings—to test the favor of their Gods
and so the people would know.

King Oedipus: Is your friend still alive?

Messenger: He was a goatherd working for King Laius.
The people of Riga can better tell where he lives.
There must be people who remember him.

King Oedipus: Iocasta, do you remember?
Did you know of such a goatherd?

Queen Iocasta: Since when, King Oedipus,
do you have messengers tell you what to do?
Leave be.
You know how rumor undermines our city.

King Oedipus: But if the goatherd is alive,
I will learn the truth.
He may still have the loop
that bound my ankles.

Queen Iocasta: Oedipus, be serious.
Leave be.

King Oedipus: I must learn
whether I am the son of a whore or a king.

Queen Iocasta: Oedipus, do not continue this.

King Oedipus: Messenger, was the loop made of gold
or was it a twig of a willow branch?

Messenger: I did not see or think to ask.

Queen Iocasta: King Oedipus,
I wish only the best.
Leave this matter be.

King Oedipus: I have not asked
for your advice on this.

Queen Iocasta: A king in too much of a hurry
may leave the Gods behind
and discover himself beset by doubt.

King Oedipus: You, guards,
go find the goatherd.
If he lives, bring him to me.

Queen Iocasta: Oedipus, why don’t you listen?
Why do you stick your head
in the maw of the Sphinx?

Chorus (aside): Did I not save you from it once already?

King Oedipus (in mock tones recites a childrens’ ditty):
When a goatherd dies,
the billy climbs up,
up into the clouds
to asks the Gods, please
return me my master—
else I, too, must die.
The Gods tell the billy:
Away! Away! Billy,
you have no beard of gold .
You’re but a goat.

(Exit Queen Iocasta in obvious distress.)

Chorus: Something unpleasant will come of this.

King Oedipus: I will learn of my past.
The children of whores were bought for sacrifice.
But perhaps I wore a golden wire.
Perhaps I was of royal blood.

Strophe: Who bore you, child?

Antistrophe: Who was your mother?
Was she a virgin surprised by a goatherd?
Was it the night?
Was the goatherd seduced by a whore?
Was your mother taken by a king?

Chorus: Why did the king not take the queen’s advice?
It was she who made him king.
She was a queen before he was a king.
It was she who agreed to marry him
and make him king.

[Enter Iananna, the nurse of Princess Ismene (see Prologue)].
She runs, screams.]

Iananna: O Gods! O Gods!
How terrible! The horror!
Polynices and Eteokles stalk each other
with spears in hand.
Where is the King?
Oedipus, your sons, your twins!
Where is the Queen?
Iocasta, your twins!
Hurry! Help!

Scene Five next.

These blogs tend to be a continuum of an idea or thought, which is why—if you are interested in what you have read—you are encouraged to consider reading the previous blog and the blog hereafter.

If you copy this blog for your own files, or to be forwarded, or its content is otherwise mentioned, please credit the author and http://esoschronicles.blogspot.com/