Of Hubris and Doppelgangers

Hubris.

What the Greeks used to describe the tragic flaw in a hero's character. Nowadays we call it pride. It's a bit more though. To explain:

Yeah, stuff like that. It's being pig-headed as well, not just proud. In short, an excessive belief in one's own belief. O President Bush...

... It was hubris that made me google Don Marquis and not look beyond the nice old man I first found. This of course in the article on abortion that I dashed off in such heat yesterday.

Truth is-- I bare my soul here-- The Don Marquis that the Wiki article was referring to was in fact this genial, though watery senior gent who was not and never could be the pithy creator of such gods as archy and mehitabel who are the wonderful people I spent all of yesterday with. I apologize to both venerable gentlemen, and to you, good readers of this Goblin's scribbilage. Head hung in shame, forked tail between my legs, I can only quietly promise to never let such a slip occur again. Vae victus.

But the fall was worth it. While in the mud... I did find Archy and Mehitabel. Who are they, you ask?

To put it simply, Archy is a cockroach with the soul of a Byron, an Eliot. He types poetry on Marquis' typewriter. Mehitabel is an alley cat who thinks she's the reincarnation of cleopatra.

In short, ever since Gary Larsen, this is some of the best stuff I have ever seen. Please come meet them and make them your friends.

In short though- Apart from the joy I received at meeting Marquis' creations, I must declare the incredible and deep shame experienced at having misattributed an article. How could I do this to you, O Marquis Of Archy's typewriter? Your soul is of higher things, not mere socio-political debate. And apologies, O musty-fusty-sweet Marquis Of Pro-life Views: I nod and bow to thee as the originator of my present pro-breathing argument.

But really, ladies and gentlemen- This did carry some fear for me. Two Don Marquises?

Freud and his saxon ancestors did speak of doppelgangers but this is too much.

Then came the second fear- Was there, dear god of all sweet mercies COULD THERE BE another Priyanka Joseph?????

[The 5 worlds stood silent, still awed- fishbowl to goblin lair remained pale and cowed. Fingers were clenched... the weight of the universe's behind rested on the shoulders of those who stood barely breathing in the shadows of the brickwork... For the first time, the shocked public, the knights and maids, saw the ultramarine corners of the goblin's lips tremble...]

I searched, I sought with a gleaming intent. I had to know. I had to.

Google vomited up search results for my name.

AAAAAAAARGH!!!

The horror. There is a carrier of my name, and it even lives in the city I used to reside within until very recently.

I feel robbed. Lessened. Reduced. Made a shadow of what I used to be.

Sniff.

Wonder what Archy would say about how I am feeling now....

"...yes i am sad
says the majestic mackerel
i am as sad
as the songof a soudanese jackal
who is wailing for the blood red
moon he cannot reach..."
- excerpt from Archy interviews a pharaoh

What he cannot reach. Ah, over-reaching oneself... O hubris. I guess I should be ok with another female humanoid walking around with my name in my hometown. I know Marquis could not have minded having this milk-faced professorial kind carry his banner on.

Greatness does not lie in pride, but in the ability to talk to cockroaches, and not mind if they misspell your quotes.

Archy, I bow to thee.