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Page 160

Had Hegel lisped, his students would have struggled with
thethith, antithethith, thynthethith, the thequenth
of Hithtory leading, ultimately to the divine
Conthiouthneth that Whatever ith ith right.
(Ithith, being, Herthelf, divine, we may thafely thay
that whatever Ithith ith ith right.)

Poor German philosophy students, drenched in
Hegelian spit, having to shake themselves dry
as Harmonica players must, after a hard, wet blow,
shake their harmonicas dry, and speaking of hard
wet blows and Monica, tell us, dear, with Bill, spit-shiny
in and out of your mouth, is that sex you're having?
"That dependth on what ith ith." (Hard to talk
with your mouth -- mouse?-- full.)

But Bill's "is is" line was not his quibble
about whether sucking is sex or sex sucks, but his
quibble about whether now is then. Since most of us
can't tell the difference (except now and Zen)
between now and then, still fighting ancient battles
against long-dead foes, still living to prove things
to people who are no longer around (like Bill
and Monica), I'd say that "is" (or "ith") is (or ith)
rather was-y (or wathy), and also, alas (altho, alath)
[STOP DOING THAT!] -- also will-y (or
William Jefferson's willy -- or, conditionally, wouldy).

As to whether a blow-job is sex, my penis thinks so,
but what does my penis know? A blow-job could be
considered eating (or feeding), massaging (very relaxing,
some say therapeutic!), prophylaxis, cannibalism (that's
human sperm, even from a politician) (SPIT! SPIT! -- or thpit!),
assisted masturbation (and how they baited her master!),
A form of domination, a parody of prayer or good clean
exercise for an orator, like Demosthenes holding pebbles
in his mouth while talking into the wind and waves.

Surely, if you can speak intelligibly with a cock
in your mouth, you'll become another Thithero!
(Thithero, antihero, thyntherely yours,


(And, yes, after all that practice, Monica did learn
to speak loudly and clearly and became the shout
heard round the world, teaching us all that if we persist,
we can all reach the Starrs.)

Note: Since headline news (even of heads of nations receiving head) is notoriously soon forgotten, on the small chance that this poem will be read long enough to outlast Clinton's disgrace, I'll decode this poem a bit: Hegel's teachings, including terms like "thesis, antithesis and synthesis", may very well have showered his students with spit. The image of harmonica players shaking spit out of their "mouth organs", suggested [har]-Monica (Lewinski), who mouthed President Clinton's organ. That brings up (wrong word choice?) Bill's having denied he lied about not have sex with Monica, because, he argued (on TV), blowjobs are not sex. His other infamous quibble, under formal questioning about his actions, had to do with whether a question applied to the immediate present or not. He was asked a question that included the word "is" about whether he is having intimate relations with his intern (Lewinski), and he said that that depends on what is is – meaning, no, he's not, but he had them earlier. (Nice to know he wasn't getting a blowjob beneath the table while answering his inquisitor.) I then conclude that "is" has some "was" qualities (is rather was-y – or, if you lisp or have your mouth full, wathy), based on the idea presented in the same stanza that most people live in a present time that is heavily infiltrated by the painful past, are still fighting old battles, etc. And since "what is" also influences what will be, "is" is rather "will-y", a word that suggests both William Clinton and his "willy" (slang for penis), which, when hard, is called a "woody" (slang for an erection), which nicely coincides (a word that suggests "go inside") with the fact that to the present time (now or is), the future is subjunctive, or "would-y".

My meditation on what a blow-job might be considered to be (if it isn't sex), leads to the possibility that Monica was developing her ability to be an orator (by analogy to Demosthenes, who also held something in his mouth – pebbles). I don't know why, but the idea of someone trying to talk while performing oral whatever-it-is-if-not-sex amuses me. Talk about a speech impediment!

That leads to a great orator: Cicero, whom I lisp into thithero, then crudely decline (on the analogy of thesis, antithesis, synthesis) to Thithero, antihero, thyntherely. It pleases me that Cicero, when lisped, acquires "hero". The arbitrary "ly" added to the last in the series is my way of saying, enough already and signing off that joke. (The Romans pronounced Kickero, supposedly, but fortunately we've corrupted it over time to the lispable "sisero".)

Monica didn't really become an orator, but she certainly became a celebrity. And of course, the "Starr" she reached was Kenneth Starr, the investigator who ran Clinton's impeachment trial.

The joke was on those of us who thought Clinton was awful. We elected a good Christian.

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