December 13, 2011
Dear Reader,
The title of page 38 is, "Sugar Country City." You will find a transcript of this page at the end of this letter. Make sure you zoom in to see the lettering and/or read the transcript, below. Next Tuesday, I post page 39. Have a great week!
Remember, if you don't dream any other day of the week, dream with me on Tuesdays.
You can now link to the Table of Contents on every page. Click here to start at the beginning of this webcomic. Have a great week and remember that Goatwater is updated every Tuesday. Email any questions or comments to bassacards(at) yahoo.com.
If this is your first time visiting this site, or you are a regular reader, email me at the address above if you want me to add you to my mailing list so that I can send you an email reminder, every Tuesday, when I’ve added the new page. No spam, and I will not share your email with anybody else, just the link to the new page and some update information, if I have any. And feel free to let me know, at any time, if you want to stop receiving the weekly emails. Thank you for your support!
Goatwater - Page 38 - Transcript - Sugar Country City
Octaroon
Oh,please, don’t send fire this time, Mother, Father, God. Send a cool, cool rain!
Headmaster
Lord, do not tempt me with the bulbous head of that beast. It smells just like an over-ripe persimmon. Beastly, primitive thoughts are the most pure, remedial in their execution, yes, yet rigorous in their ribaldry. But wait, there is some kind of delicious pride emanating from its musky scalp. As an ode to intelligence, my word, I’d love a nibble. But wait again! Its partner to its aft resembles an old blissedly arrogant, former head student of mine called Stoosh. That is Stoosh! Stoosh, where have they placed your once bright and blossoming head? Release your true self from that beast’s body at once!
Maman
Son, release me! Release me! Can’t I love you from afar, you purple thing? Listen to what you Maman tell you. Sugar Country-City is the sweetest place on any planet where you can finally give your limbs a rest and walk on your tongue to taste up the tender, sweet, raw mud and soil. It is in this Country-City that you discover, my Dear Horny-Boy, that the tongue does indeed possess a foot, a beat up, fungal foot. Hooooo boy, listen when I tell you! Replete with corn and callous, with toe that resemble, both tongue and thumb. This foot travel of its own volition. You don’t believe me, Rude Boy? How else could one explain why in spiritual ecstasy, people take to speaking in foreign tongues? It is because this tongue-foot have travel far and wide and rough and deep in order to learn the language of other spirit-lands. In this Sweet Country City you find people who not only live on the land, they taste it until their tongues name, Sugar Cane and they savor how their sweet tongue brush across their guava gums, invoking Saint Tamarind, whose head was an anointed ball of sticky tamarind candy until it was sucked dry by that depraved Headmaster, who was later arrested. “San Tamarindo,” followers pray, “make my life sweeter and easier to bear, excite my boring blood with the season of sugar.” Some people fear that invoking this saint will cause their sugar to come high, but Saint Tamarind sugar is a sacred sugar and can’t kill you or make you ill. It will sweet you, however, until you laugh like a holy idiot. You will find a relic of Saint Tamarind in the Church Candy Store window inside Sugar Country City. You can reach there by streetcar or find your own beast to ride. Son, I will meet you there and you and I can be baptized in Zabringo Bay Water, sugar cane juice, or bleach. You decide. Unhand me, Son. For now Maman has got to tend to some other monkey business. How does that sweet you, my dear, dark, daft, disco darling?
Dear Reader,
The title of page 38 is, "Sugar Country City." You will find a transcript of this page at the end of this letter. Make sure you zoom in to see the lettering and/or read the transcript, below. Next Tuesday, I post page 39. Have a great week!
Remember, if you don't dream any other day of the week, dream with me on Tuesdays.
You can now link to the Table of Contents on every page. Click here to start at the beginning of this webcomic. Have a great week and remember that Goatwater is updated every Tuesday. Email any questions or comments to bassacards(at) yahoo.com.
If this is your first time visiting this site, or you are a regular reader, email me at the address above if you want me to add you to my mailing list so that I can send you an email reminder, every Tuesday, when I’ve added the new page. No spam, and I will not share your email with anybody else, just the link to the new page and some update information, if I have any. And feel free to let me know, at any time, if you want to stop receiving the weekly emails. Thank you for your support!
Goatwater - Page 38 - Transcript - Sugar Country City
Octaroon
Oh,please, don’t send fire this time, Mother, Father, God. Send a cool, cool rain!
Headmaster
Lord, do not tempt me with the bulbous head of that beast. It smells just like an over-ripe persimmon. Beastly, primitive thoughts are the most pure, remedial in their execution, yes, yet rigorous in their ribaldry. But wait, there is some kind of delicious pride emanating from its musky scalp. As an ode to intelligence, my word, I’d love a nibble. But wait again! Its partner to its aft resembles an old blissedly arrogant, former head student of mine called Stoosh. That is Stoosh! Stoosh, where have they placed your once bright and blossoming head? Release your true self from that beast’s body at once!
Maman
Son, release me! Release me! Can’t I love you from afar, you purple thing? Listen to what you Maman tell you. Sugar Country-City is the sweetest place on any planet where you can finally give your limbs a rest and walk on your tongue to taste up the tender, sweet, raw mud and soil. It is in this Country-City that you discover, my Dear Horny-Boy, that the tongue does indeed possess a foot, a beat up, fungal foot. Hooooo boy, listen when I tell you! Replete with corn and callous, with toe that resemble, both tongue and thumb. This foot travel of its own volition. You don’t believe me, Rude Boy? How else could one explain why in spiritual ecstasy, people take to speaking in foreign tongues? It is because this tongue-foot have travel far and wide and rough and deep in order to learn the language of other spirit-lands. In this Sweet Country City you find people who not only live on the land, they taste it until their tongues name, Sugar Cane and they savor how their sweet tongue brush across their guava gums, invoking Saint Tamarind, whose head was an anointed ball of sticky tamarind candy until it was sucked dry by that depraved Headmaster, who was later arrested. “San Tamarindo,” followers pray, “make my life sweeter and easier to bear, excite my boring blood with the season of sugar.” Some people fear that invoking this saint will cause their sugar to come high, but Saint Tamarind sugar is a sacred sugar and can’t kill you or make you ill. It will sweet you, however, until you laugh like a holy idiot. You will find a relic of Saint Tamarind in the Church Candy Store window inside Sugar Country City. You can reach there by streetcar or find your own beast to ride. Son, I will meet you there and you and I can be baptized in Zabringo Bay Water, sugar cane juice, or bleach. You decide. Unhand me, Son. For now Maman has got to tend to some other monkey business. How does that sweet you, my dear, dark, daft, disco darling?
Goatwater
Copyright 2011
words and images by:
Tiffany Osedra Miller
all rights reserved.
Copyright 2011
words and images by:
Tiffany Osedra Miller
all rights reserved.
