Once upon a time --
A beautiful princess named -- oh, let’s call her Diane -- lived in a kingdom far away in The Great Frozen North. Beautiful, that is, in a biker bar waitress sense.
She was destined to live a life as happily ever after as any princess could live in a land where birds helped with the housework and dogs were wise counselors.
But, as in all tales of this sort, an older woman showed up. Miffed about a misdirected party invitation or upset about ingenue beauty, we will never know.
What we do know is that poor Princess Diane found herself waking up in a tropical land where she could not speak the language. And where, what she called “those people,” did not treat animals as she knew they should be treated.
What had seemed to be sensitivity in The Great Frozen North, in her exile, suddenly seemed like self-righteousness. She alone needed to set right the imbalance between people who were not nice to animals.
So, the princess who would have tossed in bed with the presence of a pea, changed herself into a thief. Someone is threatening a dog with a stick? Steal it. Or what appears to be a starving puppy? Steal it. Or someone is training a fighting cock? Buy it.
Pretty soon she was a princess with a menagerie of animals -- none of whom could help her with her chores or advise her on her next step. So, she started doling out animals to people she hoped were as sensitive as she thought herself to be.
Of course, they weren’t. It is one of the delusions of self-righteousness. Being nice is nowhere near the same thing as being good.
And she knew things had come full circle when she stole two kittens and had to leave them stuffed in a box at the front door of a woman who did know the difference between being nice and being good -- and doing the right thing.
When last seen, poor Princess Diane was dressed in a black cloak carrying an apple looking for Snow White.
Because today’s princess is merely tomorrow’s sorceress.
Note: The photograph at the top of this post was shot by Nancy Dardarian and posted on her blog: Countdown to Mexico. It has set on my desktop for months waiting for just the right story. And here it is.
25 comments:
Hmmm, hot down there?
wow! Dorothy Parker is perking up...
I like that.
Yup. And Mexico continues to serve up material on a silver platter.
Wait! I know her and she lives near me! Could there be more than one?
"Being nice is nowhere near the same thing as being good."
Truman and Churchill found Stalin pleasant enough to deal with. Called him Uncle Joe. But they were smart enough to know he was the antithesis of good.
Have you been stealing animals?
Saludos,
Kim G
Boston, MA
Where we think it's wise to remember that dogs' personalities reflect the true personalities of their owners.
Me too.
Ah, those Gringas.
I knew a princess over on the coast, she did something similar but much more effective. She stole them and had their nuts cut off or their ovaries removed and then she returned them where she got them. It made an incredible difference in only 5 years.
I suspect the princess has many a clone.
A good example.
But it makes for good copy.
I do my best to keep away from animals these days. I am staeting to get in another buy-a-dog mode.
It looks as if you folks may be getting a bit of early snow.
My landlady, Christine the Good (as we will call her), is very active in the local spay-neuter clinic. But she uses persuasion, rather than theft, as her method. And the clinic has done a great job of cutting down on the number of stray dogs.
The princess visitor essentially ended up abandoning her charges -- in no better condition than when she "rescued" them.
I wonder who that could be????
Hi, Penny. Are you back?
Hmm, This must mean something in your little village, but not to me. But I do know that someone was a bit light fingered with a photo I took at El Dia de La Musica last year....
http://www.countdowntomexico.com/photos/?album=3&gallery=46
Light fingered I was indeed. That painting has been one of my favorite Mexican pieces of art since you posted it. And, all of a sudden, it perfectly matched a humorous tale in my little neighborhood.
But I forgot to do the one thing I always try to do when using others' photographs. You need the credit for it. Even when used for illustrative purposes. So, in it goes.
I note the picture seems to be of a rather pneumatic Snow White, with a just-above-the-right-breast tattoo and a cigarette in a long holder. Oh, what are we to make of that?
ANM
That we are not in Anaheim any more?
Snow White as a fat, tattooed harlot. I am deeply offended. Is there nothing sacred anymore?
I am convinced that piece was painted solely for this little morality farce.
Is Anaheim really a place? I always thought of it as neurological condition.
ANM
I imagine.
I watched Woody Allen's Shadow and Fog last night. Enough German Expressionism filtered through Manhattan neuroses to last me for at least a week.
Post a Comment