I love Oscar Wilde and Recycled Verses Gone Wild

I love Oscar Wilde and recycled verses gone wild. I search decade-old expressions in the archives of typewritten book reports dotted with Snowpake; teenage slam book with a motto that said “early to bed and early to rise make a man healthy and wealthy and wise”; and love letters sealed with a kiss. SWAK. I scavenge for nearly-forgotten phrases in the dumpsites of stitched notebooks, carbon copies and floppy discs.

Being trained in climate changed-induced disaster management, I conduct rescue, relief and rehabilitation operations for terminologies and cliches victimized by natural calamities. They lie there waiting for the literal axe. Then, their broken letters will be shipped in a box that says dead as a dodo across the River Styx.

Rebellious phrases, whose sins are not mortal but venial, suffer in purgatory until they receive the pardon of the WORD (because the WORD was with God and the WORD was God). It should be pardon, because amnesty requires a legislative act; and word-congress seldom reaches quorum as other word-representatives often go gallivanting across the globe spending time in casinos in the guise of diplomacy and international conferences on public health priority.

There is a paradise for dead verses but reserved only for those who strictly obeyed the commandments of grammar and syntax, like the Kardashians, and have GMRC – good manners and right conduct like, well, the Kardashians. The term should join the glorified list in dead verses nirvana which gratefully now includes Paris Hilton, Pamela Anderson and the unabomber.

Reviving comatose verses has simple schematics and punctuation. All it takes is to cross the T’s, dot the I’s plus an uprising via social networks, and Arab Spring is the new Autumn of Nations. Parliament of the street is revived as Occupy Wallstreet. Virginity should have been dead if not for the Blessed Mary but is now resurrected because of AIDS, cholera and dysentery. POPULATION EXPLOSION was pronounced dead by the officiating priests in church missions, but may soon erupt in their faces with a vengeance worth seven billion. Barack Obama surfaced from an American womb, marched to the stage with Greek columns, and DEMOCRATIC SPACE came to town allowing grammar gurus to invent new ones such as legitimate rape and Chinese boomtown . There were several sightings of FOOD CRISIS (a murderous phrase in the past) at the bottom of sub-Saharan Africa, but it got lost amidst talks of reviving America.

It is an international tragedy that Filipinos deleted CONJUGAL DICTATORSHIP from memory. EDIFICE COMPLEX, a scheming phrase that emptied our national treasury and killed hundreds along the way, was finally buried in Imelda Marcos’ shoeboxes in the name of forgiveness. Such a pity!

Oh, don’t mistake me. There are verses that deserve extinction, especially ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN and GREEN REVOLUTION and all those born in the septic tanks of bigotry. But the misfortune, this wretched Mel Gibson has a nasty habit of bringing them back to global conversation.

I also welcome neologism: MISUNDERESTIMATE has humor and PLUTOED rides on the strength of astronomic calculations. However, she who dared to compare herself with Shakespeare simply REFUDIATES me. Blasphemy! And she shall not be named lest she waves her wand to conjure the death mark and comes back to life. What shall we do, now that Harry Potter has shown his ding-a-ling on stage, and Fifty Shades of Grey has taken over our literacy with magical narratives of, well, another ding-a-ling ding dong in bed?

My Filipino hospitality moves me to welcome words from foreign lands much as they welcome our call center dudes and OFW hands. Just recently, I savor in my mouth such soulful phrases as rogacion and asiento for life de Eleggua, Oya, y Yemaya. I honor the orishas, and I was honored to drink Kulafu at the ileocha and encountered Chango and Oshun. Maferefun! It was fun!

I am thrilled when old verses erupt with insanity, such as “same-sex marriage” or “new era of responsibility”. Although the latter does not have the hallowed echoes of the old “audacity of hope”. But don’t mistake me, I do love ancient Hollywood stars talking to empty chairs though it baffles me like a mystic river or a million dollar baby.

My love for recycled verses has nothing to do with Global Warming and Climate Change; although I do reuse, reduce and recycle NONBIODEGRADABLE because it has seven vowels that are pronounciable. I believe that both FASTFOOD and SLOW FOOD have a space in our culinary vocabulary.

I simply hope that as we progress as a planet, no living verse is left behind with no category or tag in it. What will justice be, if we move forward from HOLOCAUST and KHMER ROUGE? Bin Laden is dead, but Al Qaeda is huge. But honestly the new NAZI DIET promotion simply causes my indigestion.

But there are verses that should maintain their immortal beauty like Dorian Gray.Or that fool of a genius who wrote that “the good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what Fiction means” though he died, yes, unhappily.

That is our tragedy!

My entry to this weeks DP Challenge: Theme – Stylish Imitation


4 thoughts on “I love Oscar Wilde and Recycled Verses Gone Wild

  1. Pingback: Weekly Writing Challenge: The Inimitable Chinua Achebe… | Mirth and Motivation

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