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Variant, v. 1, issue 2, whole no. 2, May 1947

Page 2

May 1947     VARIANT     Page 2

A MONOGRAPH ON THE MAIN STATION OF A SPECIFIC TYPE OF PRIMEVAL PASSION 

or

HERE'S MUD IN YOUR EYE!

by 

Benson Dooling

Illustrated by George O. Smith

First I must ask indulgence for presuming to address you on a scientific subject; because my ignorance of the jargon of science limits me to the idiom of its vernacular.

Several fellow clubmen, knowing that a certain mildewed fossil was kicking about my digs, suggested this clubroom as a fitter place for it. I demurred, for fear of involving personages in high places; but now the police have closed these places, and the secret of this particular fossil has transpired, in a sence limited by canons of decency, through that interesting opus, by Dr. Meloncup, The Contracting Elipse, or Caught by the Knuts in Avize.

We must start somewhere. Let us start in the middle.

Man's primitive ancestor was Probably Arboreal, known to his intimates as Prob. A thing called a Tarsier, a second cousin of this chap, dropped a bit of brain, mistaking it for an aphrodisiac, into Mr. Arboreal's grog one day; and, after drinking it, the fellow showed the first signs of civiliation, he started throwing cocoanuts at pedestrians instead of dropping less savoury stuff on them, as had been his vulgar habit. He has nothing to do with us, representing just a ship passed in the night. The locale of our interest is earlier, rather.

Nature had created many oddities before she paused, her whimsical objective perhaps attained, with the ultimate absurdity homo sapiens. Some of these experimental curiosities she preserved for a while; other she left dangling where she had hung them; still others with a slight revulsive shudder, she tossed into the discard, and drew three more cards.

One of these latter rejection slips was the Duo-finned Narcissiclinch, known to the vulgar as the Bi-valved Blindlestiff, a thing unique in graphed nature because it provided its own hand out.

Please to consider remote antiquity, with the morning postman carrying his precious cargo, having to slither through the primeval slime...our world bubbling like a neglected champagne cocktail into which some zany has dropped a bread pudding garnished with raisins...Come with me to Ave Atque Valley, cooling there amid surrounding sizzling ooze. It was three that the dorsal molar of the Dou-finned Narcissiclinch was found, buried under many layers of slate.

When it was discovered, at about the time of the Boer War, scientists did not recognize it as a mastadonic molar, and thought for a time that it represented a complete skeletal entity. Then, on ascertaining that the thing could have had no ailmentary canal, they concluded was some sort of signal from another planet which had the childish habit of tossing old bones about the stratosphere. Deciding that planet must be in distressing condition if it desired to contact our world, these scientists thought it wise to forget the whole business, to pretend that nothing had happened. The dorsal molar was hidden in a wine vault in a cellar in Germany. Years later it was discovered there by a civilian who was looking for Kirchwasser, poor chap!

Mistaking it for some part of Hitler, he dropped it into a sewer, and ran like thd devil.

It was discovered by plumbers, a few hours later.

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May 1947 VARIANT Page 2 A MONOGRAPH ON THE MAIN STATION OF A SPECIFIC TYPE OF PRIMEVAL PASSION or HERE'S MUD IN YOUR EYE! by Benson Dooling Illustrated by George O. Smith First I must ask indulgence for presuming to address you on a scientific subject; because my ignorance of the jargon of science limits me to the idiom of its vernacular. Several fellow clubmen, knowing that a certain mildewed fossil was kicking about my digs, suggested this clubroom as a fitter place for it. I demurred, for fear of involving personages in high places; but now the police have closed these places, and the secret of this particular fossil has transpired, in a sence limited by canons of decency, through that interesting opus, by Dr. Meloncup, The Contracting Elipse, or Caught by the Knuts in Avize. We must start somewhere. Let us start in the middle. Man's primitive ancestor was Probably Arboreal, known to his intimates as Prob. A thing called a Tarsier, a second cousin of this chap, dropped a bit of brain, mistaking it for an aphrodisiac, into Mr. Arboreal's grog one day; and, after drinking it, the fellow showed the first signs of civiliation, he started throwing cocoanuts at pedestrians instead of dropping less savoury stuff on them, as had been his vulgar habit. He has nothing to do with us, representing just a ship passed in the night. The locale of our interest is earlier, rather. Nature had created many oddities before she paused, her whimsical objective perhaps attained, with the ultimate absurdity homo sapiens. Some of these experimental curiosities she preserved for a while; other she left dangling where she had hung them; still others with a slight revulsive shudder, she tossed into the discard, and drew three more cards. One of these latter rejection slips was the Duo-finned Narcissiclinch, known to the vulgar as the Bi-valved Blindlestiff, a thing unique in graphed nature because it provided its own hand out. Please to consider remote antiquity, with the morning postman carrying his precious cargo, having to slither through the primeval slime...our world bubbling like a neglected champagne cocktail into which some zany has dropped a bread pudding garnished with raisins...Come with me to Ave Atque Valley, cooling there amid surrounding sizzling ooze. It was three that the dorsal molar of the Dou-finned Narcissiclinch was found, buried under many layers of slate. When it was discovered, at about the time of the Boer War, scientists did not recognize it as a mastadonic molar, and thought for a time that it represented a complete skeletal entity. Then, on ascertaining that the thing could have had no ailmentary canal, they concluded was some sort of signal from another planet which had the childish habit of tossing old bones about the stratosphere. Deciding that planet must be in distressing condition if it desired to contact our world, these scientists thought it wise to forget the whole business, to pretend that nothing had happened. The dorsal molar was hidden in a wine vault in a cellar in Germany. Years later it was discovered there by a civilian who was looking for Kirchwasser, poor chap! Mistaking it for some part of Hitler, he dropped it into a sewer, and ran like thd devil. It was discovered by plumbers, a few hours later.