11 February 2006

Pandora’s Box

Pandora, like Eve, takes all the heat in this legend, making me believe that the story was written by the antediluvian equivalent of a programmer lacking the social skills to even talk to a woman, let alone marrying one, having 1.5 children and a mortgage on a nice mud hut in the suburbs.

But even if the facts were more or less true, is she really the villain of the piece? Let us re-examine the tale:

“Jupiter had malignantly crammed into this box all the diseases, sorrows, vices, and crimes that afflict poor humanity, like lawyers, meter maids and Michael Flately and his River-Dancing ilk. No sooner was the box opened, than all these ills flew out, in the guise of horrid little brown-winged creatures (Except for Flately who came out dressed for dancing, because that image is horrible enough), closely resembling moths. These little insects fluttered about, alighting, some upon Pandora’s main squeeze Epimetheus, who had just entered, and some upon Pandora, pricking, stinging, filling injunctions, booting their chariot, and tap dancing most unmercifully. Epimetheus and Pandora had never before experienced the faintest sensation of pain or anger; but, as soon as these winged evil spirits had stung them, they began to weep, and, alas, quarrelled for the first time in their lives. Epimetheus reproached his wife in bitterest terms for her thoughtless action; calling her as “Stupid bint” and she him an “utter poxy cunt” but in the very midst of their vituperation they suddenly heard a sweet little voice entreat for freedom. The sound proceeded from the unfortunate box, whose cover Pandora had dropped again, in the first moment of her surprise and pain. “Open, open, and I will heal your wounds, or at least wreak vengeance! Please let me out! “it pleaded.

The tearful couple viewed each other inquiringly, and listened again. Once more they heard the same pitiful accents; and Epimetheus bade his wife open the box and set the speaker free, adding very amiably, that she had already done so much harm by her ill-fated curiosity, that it would be “difficult to add materially to its evil consequences, you daft cow”, and that, “perchance, the box contained some good spirit, whose ministrations might prove beneficial and maybe I could shack up with her.”

“Pound sand up your arse, you useless twat. Who is stupid here? What about the time you pissed on the electric fence?” Pandora replied, but she did eventually open the box.It was well for Pandora that she opened the box a second time, for the gods, with a sudden impulse of compassion, had concealed among the evil spirits a high quality German sub machine gun, whose mission was to heal the wounds inflicted by its former box mates, by making gaping holes in them.

Thus, according to the ancients”

Well, there you have it. Pandora is actually the heroine of the piece, as she brought us the modern submachine gun which has proved a blessing and a boon to all those who have been passed at warp speed only to have the inconsiderate bastard slow down forcing us to brake just as soon as passing is no longer possible, as well as those that hate Michael Flately.

And that's the way I likes it.