CHAPTER THREE -- Menu of Virtues, Herr of the Dog, Nap of the Cat

 

-- Could I have the key to the washrooms please?

-- We don't have one - there's no Locke.

-- Oh ... right ...

-- I don't  know which to use. What's the one on the right? Is there a User's Manual?

-- No. And from a business trans-action point of view, I daren't advise you. Dunno anything about the one on the right. Mis-Labelling is Violence. Do I want to be arrested? Ask yourself what would Epictetus do? What would Marcus Aurelius do?

-- I don't know -- what?

-- One of four things, I suppose -- as listed on the Menu Board. There's an APPetizer for that.

-- Right ... I'd heard your specialty is Chicken Mumbo-Jumbo. Sounds about right.

 What'll you two have, Prof?

-- My turn to pay AGAIN? When's the reciprocal part? What dish would you recommend today, Hermen? 

-- For you two, the Roast ParaDucks. Why so glum this time, Student?

-- My thesis has been rejected, Hermen! Dismissed as mere fairy tale.

-- Sucks, man. Says who?

-- My brothers Grimmly told me.

-- Well, cheer up -- stay for Happy Hour!

Uh oh, the Food Columnist is back

What's your complaint this time?

-- This does not add up!

-- I know. Life is confusing, the cosmos a mystery ...

-- I'm talking about my BILL, you sophist. I had one order of Square Root and Circular Leaves with Cream of Meme Soup, and you charged me for two. You miscalculated my bill, you can't even add.

-- Life IS incalculable. It's about the Uncertainty Principle. You can't count on which slings and arrows Chance will send your way next ...

-- Arithmetic is not chance, it's exact. So please fix my bill. Why do you always play games with me, you evil jester?

-- Because you always take de-bate. 

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-- Guten afternoon, Herr ... ?

-- Eutics. Hermen Eutics, manager and headwaiter, at your service.

-- Good! Ve are German tourists, here for 5 o'clock Schopenhauer, with beer, please.

-- Uh ... sorry, there's no actual Schopen-Hour ... it's a joke.

-- A joke?

-- Ja, sorry. 

-- Schopenhauer didn't like jokes. 

-- No. ...   But Nietzsche did! He said they liberate us from the slavery of our own views and help us find our tribe.

-- Ah ja! That's a Neatzschjest by you! Ve vill just have a snack for schopenhauer-less time then. Do you have any stollen cake?

-- No, but we have poached eggs.

-- Ah, you should get your chef to make stollen. My wife makes BEAUTIFUL stollen fruitcake. With lots of orange peel.

-- I guess she stoll your heart with it, eh? Hahaha ... Here, Ma's the chef. 

Hey Ma! Can YOU make stollen? 

-- Vielleicht.

-- In time for our Poetry Night then -- okay Ma?

Orange in your stollen eh? When Ma makes it we'll give you a free slice on Poetry Night, IF you can find a word that rhymes with "orange". In English, that is.

Easy! 

Shove over an orange

I like it on my porringe

It has a sharp taste but if you eat it in haste

It seems only slightly foreinge

-- Ha ha ...   Very good .. even if it is a bit intertextual. It's from the unpublished works of the great Alexander von Humbug, right? (You Goethe put up with lots of groaners in here ...)

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THE NEXT DAY

-- Madama Nocturna, you old witch, how many times have I told you not to bring those cats here? Cats aren't allowed at Cafe Philosophy. Health and Safety Regulations.

-- But we know those regulations are ridiculous, Hermen. So ridicule them; literally laugh. My cats hate being home alone. They think I'll disappear, because I'm working on a Disappearance Spell. 

-- How does that work?

-- You hypnotize a viewer into not-seeing things -- with their permission. It only works if their own unconscious is on-board. And you wouldn't believe how many times people fail to see the things their unconscious doesn't like

-- The Health Inspectors will see very well if two cats appear in my cafe.

-- I'll be away for a bit, so I need you to cat-sit for me. I brought some fish for them to eat while they're visiting.

-- They're not going to be visiting. There's no plaice for cats here.

-- Just give them some herring they can play-fight over --they enjoy a bit of herring-do. 

-- Oh no you herring-don't! Stop unpacking that fishy cat food!

-- Don't be koi, Hermen, you know you'll take them in the end, it's just for a few days. 

-- Where are you going?

-- For my Disappearance Experiment, I'm flying by bikebroom way out to a Black Hole.

-- Oh good, maybe you'll disappear forever. Take the cats along, why don't you?

-- They don't like the bikebroom, it made them air-sick on the way over here.

Thanks Herman - I'm off!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

-- Hey Hermen! Maybe you'll take mein hund too, ven I go back to Germany for a few days -- ja?

-- Nein!

-- But, you took the cat of die hexe ... Madama Nocturna.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Hey Hermen! One of the witch's cats is dead.

Nope. She's quick to play dead but she's just pretending. Playing at being cat-achresic, as you pretentious philosopher-folk would say.

-- What do you mean "pretentious"? How hurtful. I'm decimated.

-- Yeah, yeah ... haha ... Anyway, I'm closing for today.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

A FEW DAYS LATER:

-- I was tired.

-- You're always tired. You're like a cartoon cat that sleeps all day. You do look a bit drawn.

-- Because I'm tired. I've been busy. It's hard work being an influencer.

-- Can we dogs be influencers too?

-- I hope not.

-- How do you be one?

-- By example. Haven't you seen my face on a thousand comic greeting cards?

-- Of course. The face that launches a thousand quips, on cards for Crazy Cat Ladies to buy for other Crazy Cat Ladies.

-- Why not? I'm a Crazy Lady Cat.

-- Yes. And I'm a Sane Gentleman Dog.

-- I thought you were a guard dog. What do you see outside this window anyway, watching all day?

-- Tons of stuff you know nothing about, since you're usually asleep.

-- I'm busy dreaming. I'm a Weekend Worrier. I have to work things out, and then share my hard-won wisdom with the world.

-- Great. So start a mogcast. You don't see what I see because I look out the window.

-- Like what?

-- Like, did you know there are hens in that yard across the road?

-- Yes. I heard them cluck.

-- Well, I see their beautiful tails and side feathers flashing in the sun while they cluck and peck. I'd love to get closer.

-- So you'd cross the road to see the other side of a chicken? (Oh no! you're not a hunting dog are you?)

-- What?! I told you. I'm a gentleman. 

-- You're spying on that big dog next door. Why's he standing like that?

-- He's doing a power pose.

-- What an idiot. A powerless pose works better, accompanied by a faint miaow, as if you're weak and starving -- so the humans feed you again.

-- You're a manipulator.

-- A paw-pulator, yes. Less is more, when you're the superior species.

-- That's what's they call a "luxury belief". Very colonialist. BAD cat!

-- There are no bad cats. What is a luxury belief, anyway? 

-- A belief that "confers status on the upper class while inflicting costs on lower classes".

-- Um ... that tires my brain, I think I'll take a nap.

-- With you, there's a nap for everything.

So take my picture for the Crazy Cat Ladies. Put it on a mog-mug, okay Dog?

.