You read that name right, "Gods Are Bored" fans! If the Goddess's has that many letters, She almost has to be an Original American deity, in this case, Aztec. Those people must have had some dexterity in their tonsils, let me tell you!
It's a cold Sunday morning here, so I have brewed up a pot of tea and am hosting the bored Goddess Chalchiuhtlicue, sacred to the Aztec peoples. Please give her a warm, wonderful, Gods Are Bored welcome!
Chalchiuhtlicue: Don't give me anything warm! FUCK warm!
Anne: Now, dear Goddess, please. This is a family blog.
Chalchiuhtlicue: No it isn't. You never get past the censors.
Anne: Somehow that's kind of comforting to me right now. Along with the fact that no one reads this. However, Chalchiuhtlicue, let's talk about You. Your name has been making the news of late.
Chalchiuhtlicue: Is that supposed to matter to me? I used to have 20 major celebrations each year. I had My own pyramid! Now I'm just stewing in My swimming hole. The hotter it gets, the more steamed I get. And then? Hurricanes. You people deserve it.
Anne: You're preaching to the choir here, Chalchiuhtlicue. Am I pronouncing it right?
Chalchiuhtlicue: No European could ever hope to pronounce it right. But go ahead and mangle it. It's mildly amusing.
Anne: Well, I just wanted to praise and worship You and tell You that I will be calling the body of water previously known as the Gulf of Mexico, the Sea of Chalchiuhtlicue. Or, if I have 15 minutes to say a name, Chalchiuhtlicueyecatl. I don't suppose I was any more successful pronouncing that.
Chalchiuhtlicue: Not a bit.
Anne: Sorry.
Chalchiuhtlicue: Just think. That name rolled off the tongue of millions of My people as a pleasant brook flows over a stone.
Anne: I need a Tums.
Chalchiuhtlicue: And now I'm supposed to be happy that my mangled name is trotted into some feeble protest. While every year My swimming hole gets more and more like a sauna!
Anne: How about a nice slice of sweet potato pie?
Chalchiuhtlicue: Pie? That might work with those vain Greek deities, but MY PEOPLE GAVE YOU HATEFUL EUROPEANS THE SWEET POTATO. And what did we get in return? Smallpox. Influenza. You can take that pie and ...
Anne: Honestly, I'm willing to if it will improve Your temper! I just invited You over to encourage my three readers to adopt the term Chalchiuhtlicueyecatl. But I can see it's totally insufficient. I get it. I really do. The injustices heaped upon Your people by Europeans does not sit lightly with me.
Chalchiuhtlicue: Well, that inconsequential show of sympathy will at least keep Me from flooding your basement. Maybe.
Anne: Thank You for that! It would be a flick of the wrist for You, an angst-producer for me. All of my Mummers suits are down there, and my fairy festival clothes, and Omega Cat's boxes, and ...
Chalchiuhtlicue: Changing my mind here.
Anne: No! No! Don't change your mind! All glory, laud, and honor, great Goddess of the Waters of the World! Water is life, and modern European humans don't realize it, and You will have Your revenge soon. Very soon.
Chalchiuhtlicue: I know.
Anne: In the meantime, I intend to use the historically correct Chalchiuhtlicueyecatl as the name for the body of water to the immediate south of the continent erroneously known as North America.
Chalchiuhtlicue: I don't care one way or another, since I'm cooking in My own swimming hole. But you do you.
Anne: Look at this. A nice tall glass of iced sweet tea with lemon! A very modest European offering to Your overheated self.
Chalchiuhtlicue: Thank you. Your basement is safe. Can I chill in that fetching little pond behind your house?
Anne: I wouldn't. It's polluted to the plimsol line. Tell you what. The briny Absecon Inlet is just an hour's drive away. It has a nice Original American name. Let's go hang out there for the afternoon. I'll get my Under Armor. And my cashmere sweater. And my sweat pants. And my puffer coat. And my hat. And my gloves. And a scarf. And foot warmers. And wool socks.
Chalchiuhtlicue: I'll wait.
Whew! You never know about these deities, do you? They all seem pissed these days. Seems that my afternoon plans have changed. Wish me luck, friends. Chalchiuhtlicue is a bruiser. Rightly so, but wowsa.
1 comment:
I will gladly adopt the term Chalchiuhtlicueyecatl if you can advise me of its phonetic pronunciation so it can trip off my tongue too. Until then, I'll just refer to that body of water as Golfo Del Gringo Loco.
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