kagablog

January 1, 2013

The Macaronic Of i&I, Zarathustra & Big Jesus Trashcan

Filed under: i&I younity movement — ABRAXAS @ 11:24 am

It’s i&i, Zarathustra and Big Jesus Trashcan,
sitting in Brian Demon’s late Night Tavern,
Main Road, Sea Point. Brian Demon’s not
allowed to serve liquor after 2am but
Zarathustra’s a regular so the three
of them get gin, tonic, scotch,
soda, and red wine, all
served in separate
tea pots. Big
Jesus Trash-
Can is
feeling
morbid. He
got a collect
call from the Holy
Ghost. Her plane was
delayed because of a bomb
scare. She won’t be in Sea Point
until tomorrow afternoon. i&I puts
two rand in the Wurlitzer, selects Chocolate
Jesus by Tom Waits, hopes it will cheer the Son
of Man up, take his mind off the Ghost’s disappointing
non-appearance. Brian Demon winks at i&I, offers him a line
of crystal schnarf. “Thanks broe, but I’ll give it a miss this time.”
Big Jesus Trashcan asks to see the wine bottle. Is impressed by the
bouquet of Manslaughter Merlot, “It sure beats the plonk we had on
Mount Olive.” “Stop living in the past,” Zarathustra jibes, “been there,
done that, what ya gotta say about NOW?” Big Jesus Trashcan moans,
“No girls in this bar, no topless waitresses, not even my holy mama
Mary, said no girls in this bar, makes me feel like a fairy.” Now i&I,
Zarathustra and Big Jesus Trashcan take a stroll down Main Road
to Saul’s 24 hour Burger Saloon. On the way they stop off
briefly at Hotel Regent, score thirty rand’s worth of crack
cocaine from Anne Boleyn. Pull in to Spiderman’s room
on the first floor. He’s shooting up, doesn’t even
notice Big Jesus Trashcan with the base pipe.i&I
rummages around looking for aluminium foil.
Zarathustra provides the flame. They get
very high. One at a time. Big Jesus
Trashcan says, “I am the living
bread.” Zarathustra retorts,
“I am the living bread
roll.” i&I concludes,
“i&I am the living
trammezini.”
Spiderman
falls
to
the
floor.
Overmandose.
Big Jesus Trashcan
whips through Spiderman’s
pockets. Finds 18 Mandrax tablets,
commands his worthy companions to split
the joint, pronto! Back At Saul’s 24 Hour Burger
Salon the three are served burgers bigger than Zimbabwe’s
Gross National Debt (that’s BIG!). None of them have any appetite
left, they make for the door without paying a cent. The three of them
run down Milton Road to the beach, dive into the icy Atlantic waters, swim
to Robben Island. (Well i&I and Zarathustra swim, Big Jesus Trashcan strolls).
They break into Nelson’s old cell. Bottleneck the mandrax with dagga scored
from one of the kids that was supposed to be fed with money that Reverend
B stole to buy his white wife silk underwear and champagne breakfasts at
five star hotels, comrade. Zarathustra sucks in a pipeful, passes it to Big
Jesus Trashcan, asks him, “How you like this shit?” Big Jesus Trashcan
grins, chants, “No girls in this cell, no topless wardens, not even a
holy virgin Madonna, said no chicks in this desolate cell, why if I
was Nellie M I’d be a gonner!” i&I and Zarathustra join Big Jesus
Trashcan for the chorus, “A gonner, a gonner, I’d be a gonner!”

Come sunrise i&I, Zarathustra and Big Jesus Trashcan are
feeling kinda wasted. Son ‘o Man suggests they travel
through time, go for breakfast in the Tetragramma-
ton. He clicks his fingers and yells, “Father, deliver
I me your son and these two clowns, my pals,
into your daily name wherever that may be.”
There’s a cloud of smoke, a whoosh, a
bang, the smell of nitroglycerine,
and LO! i&I, Zarathustra and Big
Jesus Trashcan are on the
banks of the spring of
Gihon. Zarathustra
feeling sea-sick,
shouts out
“Nausea!
Nausea!
Nausea!” i&I
slaps him on the
back, whispers, “Hey
big man, you got to go
under yourself before you
go over, now dance!” Big Jesus
Trashcan pops a fig in his mouth,
chews for a while, says, “It’s good!”
Zarathustra looks up bleary-eyed, and
mutters, “Don’t talk with a mouth full of
food.” Big Jesus Trashcan shrugs, grabs the
wine flagon, downs as much of it as he can in
one go, but the wine doesn’t ever seem to end,
so Big Jesus Trashcan keeps on with his drinking,
sweat beads popping up all over from the effort. i&I
frowns, notices the uncanny silence, asks, “What the
hell happened to the sound of weeping and wailing in
the world?” Zarathustra hands i&I the Lord’s remote con-
trol and mumbles, “The one God who isn’t has got it on mute.”
i&I gets curious, presses the wrong buttons. There’s another blast
of fireworks, a Dolby Digital bang which leaves our three heroes facing
Hezekiah and his henchmen, those mean twins Gog and Magog. Zarathustra
chastises i&I, “Now look what you’ve done!” i&I looking worried, voice
somewhat strained, “Look it wasn’t my responsibility, this was all
prophesied.” Big Jesus Trashcan manages to drag his lips away
from the bottomless flask of Cannibal cabernet, gives Gog,
Magog, and Hezekiah the once-over from two blood-
shot eyes (he looks like a wino). Burps a massive
blast of demon-damaging righteous fire.
Withers all three of them to dust! i&I
enthusiastic, “That’s neat!” Zara-
thustra gets down on his
knees and prays, ”No
girls in the future,
no topless
maidens,
no
mermaids,
no hetaera.
Said no buxom
babes in this version
of the future, gimme the
cellphone i&I, let’s call us some
escorts.” About an hour later Susanna,
Joanna and Mary Magdalene came by. Big
Jesus Trashcan butt-naked gave each one of
them a try, before passing the goods on to i&I
and old ‘Thustra who was himself quite willing but
whose dick got shy. The party went on for a few hours
before Big Jesus Trashcan looked out of the window, sighed,
“I’m bored.” i&I with his shlong in Mary, screamed, “I’m coming!”
Zarathustra pulls his little yummy outta Susanna, pisses on Joanna,
shouts, “Human, all too human!” The three of them kick those sorry bitches
outta there. Take a walk up to the Pearly Gates. Have breakfast at the
Feng Shui parlour. Decide to split up. Zarathustra goes back to his
lonely mountain (it’s got a nice view and the rent is low). i&I gets
a job behind the bar at Stones, shining white balls and handing
out chalk for the cues. Big Jesus Trashcan enjoyed his time
hanging out with the boys, but he’s the messiah, got
all those prophesies to fulfil.

We jump cut to Big Jesus
Trashcan on the cross,
wailing to Tom, “Put
your finger in, put
your finger in!”
Around about
that time
Susanna,
Joanna
and Mary
Magdalene
called up on
the cell, wanting
to know what time the
resurrection was expected,
they didn’t want to be late, oh
and, what should they wear? Big
Jesus Trashcan moaned to Doubting
Tom, “Put your finger in! Put your finger
in!” Pontius Pilate in the crowd, washing his
hands, yelled up to the dying Son of Man, “What is
truth?” Big jesus trashcan, roasting, screamed. “Ferchrissakes
Didymus, put the finger in. Penetrate me!” Which Tom did.
And the passion play was over. Not with a bang.
But a finger.

Hi. This is
i&I to Ground
Control. i&I looked
down at Big Jesus Trashcan.
Big Jesus Trashcan looked up
at i&I. He said, “Why are you dangling
from that tree?” “Trying to emulate you of
course, Boss. Dontcha realise how much damage
you caused, with your Way and your Light and your
Flock and your Cross?” “Hey listen i&I, come out of that
tree. Why don’t you just come down and sit next to me. I’ve
got a picnic basket filled with bread, fish and wine. Dad taught
me how to keep re-filling it till the end of time.” i&I grinned as he
replied “Boss, it’s not that i&I’m looking for a sign, but since you’re
the messiah couldn’t you perhaps look for the key to these pairs
of handcuffs that are suspending i&I from this big ole tree.”
Big Jesus Trashcan hummed and he hawed until finally he
withered that big ole tree. i&I fell to the ground with
a very loud bump. The Son of Man shrugged shyly
and mumbled, “Sorry i&I but my miracles are
limited to what’s prophesied in the Scrips,
ain’t nothing there about no handcuffs!”
The food was good, there was even
a fig. The wine was pretty decent
pinot noir, more than merely
drinkable, with lingering
after-notes of berry.
When we’d had our
fill of scoff and
quaff we both
took a little
zizz
(which
means nap).
By the time i&I
awoke Big Jesus
Trashcan was gone.
he Left i&I a note saying,
“Thank you for the company,
it’s lonely at the top.” There was
also thirty pieces of silver and a crown

of thorns.

One Response to “The Macaronic Of i&I, Zarathustra & Big Jesus Trashcan”

  1. ABRAXAS Says:

    macaroni