Cultural Explication Of The Historic Use Of Metaphorical Mouse Entrails
I received a question asking what I meant by the metaphor of mouse entrails? And mouse fucking. Now, handeling both of these unweildy topics in one entry would be more than one man could be expected to attempt, so I shall focus on Mouse Entrails, and leave mouse fucking to the experts.
I know that a lot of people will wonder why some boof like me thinks I can add anything to the great mouse entrails debate... and sure, I have the same thought.... but what am I if I don't at least try to take on the great issues of my time?
I mean, I truly respect writers who tackle issues... like the garden variety moles prepensity toward violent sodomy, the evil nature of weasel turnip love... the dramatic rise in anal warts among various south artica based penguins... and like everyone, I wish I had a magic wand that could make these problems explode like mouse on primate penis, but I don't. I can, however, shape the people who can make a difference on these issues, by infecting them with life affirming metaphors, like mice entrails.
In this small way, I can sleep well at night knowing that I too, though it looks like I just sit on my ass all day smoking weed and cigarettes and popping pills and swilling coffee, am in truth out SAVING THE WHOLE GODDAMN WORLD. This is because I am... an artist.
The history of the uses of metaphorical mouse entrails dates back to a cave discovered in 1824 a few miles outside of Paris, France, where a neanderthal colony was found with extensive drawings of men covered in mouse entrails and various body parts (you can tell they are mice because of the decapitated heads). Obviously this was part of some religious ritual, one which echoes into our modern times with various mouse entrail cults throughout the world.
In my writing, when I approach a famous metaphor like mouse entrails that people like Shakespeare and Lenny Bruce have made their own, my soul shivers a bit. Yes, sure, there is some bravado involved, but I don't think I am really going to say anything new. Heck, like Shakespeare said, "There is nothing new under the mouse entrails." All I can do is take mouse entrails, and add a few modern words and idioms to the way I talk about them, and in this way I hope that I am bringing the rich, wondrous world of mouse entrails to a new generation.
Mouse entrails are kind of personal to me, too. I would be remiss not to mention this, I suppose, since my subjective view of mouse entrails was shaped, fairly strongly, by the fact that my parents were killed by mouse entrails. Strangled by small, stringy intestines. I was blamed, spent years in jail... being taunted by various mice in the jail, who could come and go as they pleased, the sneaky little bastards. And sure, when I caught one, I had sex with it, and my penis did indeed make them explode. And sure I'm by far not the first person to write about this phenomena... but I am one of only a few thousand whose parents died that year from being strangled with mouse entrails. I like to think I can get over the little petty prejudices that can arise from incidents like this, and that I can use the metaphor of mouse entrials in a way that is universal... that is why I naturally thought, "Oh, if I'm going to write a cowboys story, then I have got to have plenty of mouse entrails... I don't care if some people do think it's a cliche.." I wanted the weight of all those other cowboys covered in mouse entrails from literature to enrich my own story, add nuances in the minds of some that a few people, like me, love to find in literature, like a golden nugget that tells me the writer is thinking along the same lines as me, in ways that confirm sides of myself that society might despise or something (like my used enema collection, which gets me so much shit... pun intended).
In fact, I am trying to put together a story that uses mouse entrails and my used enema collection... but so far all I have is the part where I go to the pharmacy and watch for people who buy enemas, then follow them home.. break in that night, go to the bathroom and retrieve the enema... or go on a garbage watch for a week, or whatever... I mean, I have a good scene where the protagonist goes up to various people buying enemas to try and secure the rights to their used enema. I found that a legally binding agreement gives a certain weight to the conversation that just isn't there when they start calling me a pervert and screaming for security, which happened when I just went up and say, "Hey, there's quite a market for used enemas. I'll give you fifty cents for that when your done. Don't clean it or anything, though... that destroys the value."
I hope that this essay has made clear how precisely I believe metaphors should be used, how one must think in terms of the rich history of mouse entrails to use such a culturally reverberating image. In fact, other than some stuff in grade school... I was afraid to use the metaphor until quite recently. For awhile I think I even decided that it was a cliche and thus something to either morph out or stay the hell away from. Now though, older and wiser, I know, that the wondrously ephiphanious mouse entrail is not just the metaphor of the past, but also the metaphor of the now, and the future... In fact, you, my dear readers, have my solemn vow, based on the sacred trust you have in me as your narrator, that I will, from this day forward, use Metaphorical Mouse Entrails in every goddamn thing I write!!! Even grocery lists and stuff. I will not compromise on this -- it's just that important, people.