And yea in the remote year 2007, in the month of August, on the 21st day, this blog “Masks of Eris” did come into being.
This thing below was the first post.
Remarriage and Heaven
Scene: Heaven. Fluffy clouds and starry skies. A sound of harp from the distance.
Larry and Mary, a happily married and recently deceased couple, rise up through the clouds.
Larry: So, Heaven! I guess coveting a Mercedes doesn’t count, after all.
Mary: (laughs) You horrible man!
Larry: So, is there anyone we know here?
Mary: Oh! Dear John!
John: Mary, my love!
Larry: Who’s this?
Mary: This… this, uh, Larry, this is my previous husband, John. He died of pneumonia in 1995.
John: Mary dear… who’s this?
Mary: John dear, this is Larry. He’s an undertaker; I met him at your, um, at your funeral and married him after a year of mourning.
John: (flummoxed) Oh, bully.
Mary: But — oh, oh dear. If you’re here, too —
Greg: Mary m’love!
Larry & John: Who?
Mary: Uh, my first husband, Greg. He was killed by a rabid chihuahua —
Greg: Infection! Not chihuahua!
Mary: — infection years before I met you, John, or you, Larry.
Greg: Mary? I’d like you to, to ah um…
Two women enter.
Greg: …to meet my previous wives. This is Lucy, a dental hygienist; she died of red fever in 1976, and this is Lucilla, a pediatrician; she died of hay fever —
Lucilla: Hay fever complications, love.
Lucilla waves at Mary. Larry hyperventilates. An Angel enters.
Angel: Here, what’s this commotion about here? Where are your harps?
Larry: (To Angel) What’s this all with my wife’s previous husbands and their wives? It’s outrageous, and I demand to see the management!
Angel: Uh, He is resting.
Larry: Well, who can I talk to?
Angel: I’ll… I’ll see if, uh, if the Son is available.
The Angel leaves. Meanwhile, John and Greg are fighting over which of them Mary should call ‘her most beloved’.
Lucy and Lucilla lean against a white wall, miffed. Mary is aghast.
Larry: (To Mary) I’ll say! This thing has been really awfully badly thought out!
The Angel reappears, twisting his hands.
Angel: There’s been a, a um, a um mistake in here. We’ve a really excellent joy control program up here but uh, but uh tiny slip-ups like this are, uh really, bound to happen at times.
Larry: (glowers) So?
Angel: So, we have a policy for situations like this. Mary, would you please step right here… a little to the left… perfect!
The Angel pulls a lever out of nowhere, then pulls it, and then pushes it back into wherever it came from. Mary drops down through the clouds with a shriek. The Angel shrugs.
Angel: Well, that’s that.
Larry: What? Where? Mary? What did you —
Angel: Oh, to Hell with you too!
He repeats the lever-trick; Larry disappears as well. Meanwhile, John is punching Greg in the mouth.
* * *
Also, isn’t “blogiversary” a delightfully slimy word, like a Vogon feast of remembrance of some sort?
I’ve a rather nice little thing cooking up for this day, but it’s not quite ready yet. Meanwhile, I’ve pondered before on why I blog and on the steps that led me to blogging.
(And if you say “Who the frak’s blogiversary?”, read this for fifty partial answers.)