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PHID: Not a chance in Hell, not even if you give me those pheasants that Leogoras breeds.
STREP: Come on, please, dearest of all mankind to me, I’m begging you, go get educated!
PHID: And what am I supposed to learn there?
STREP: They say they’ve got two species of argument: the Supernal, whatever that is,
and the Infernal. And the latter of these arguments, the Infernal, they say can triumph
over juster causes by using logic! So if you would learn for me that Unjust argument, of
all the money I now owe because of you, I won’t have to pay back a single cent to
anyone.
PHID: I won’t comply. I’d die if my fellow equestrians saw me losing my tan.
STREP: Then Amen I say to you, you and your precious thoroughbreds won’t get an ounce
of my food, not when I kick you out of the house, where there will be wailing and gnashing
of teeth!
PHID: But Uncle Megacles would never let me go horseless. I’m going inside and paying
you no mind!
STREP: A knock-out blow but I’m not down for the count just yet! No. Living on a prayer
I’ll march into the Thinketerium and get educated myself! But then again, how can a
slothful and scatter-brained old geezer like me possibly learn to split hairs with punctilious
words? Yet go I must. But why do I keep dithering like this? Time I knock on the door. Lad!
Hey laddie!
STUDENT: Goddammit who’s that banging on the door?
STREP: Strepsiades McPhidon, from Cicynna.
STUDENT: And a ***, by Zeus. Thanks to your heedless assault on the door I just aborted
my brainchild!
STREP: Sorry, I’m from the County. But tell me about this mental miscarriage.
STUDENT: It’s a violation of code to tell anyone but students.
STREP: Well rest assured you can tell me. I’ve come to enroll at the Thinketerium
myself!
STUDENT: Alright, I’ll tell. But you must regard these things as sacred mysteries. Now,
Socrates just asked Chaerephon how many of its own feet a flea can jump, after one had
just bitten Chaerephon’s eyebrow then bounced onto Socrates’ head.
STREP: How the blazes did he measure that?
STUDENT: Ingeniously! First he melted some wax and dipped its feet into it. Then he blew
on them so they’d dry into a pair of slippers, took them off and used them to measure the
distance.
STREP: Zeus Almighty! What subtlety of mind!
STUDENT: Now how about you hear of another of Socrates’ experiments.
STREP: Of what sort? Please, go on.
STUDENT: Chaerephon inquired into Socrates’ notions regarding out of which end a gnat
buzzes, its mouth or its butt.
STREP: So what did he say about gnats?
STUDENT: On the premise that a gnat’s intestinal track is narrow, he concluded that this compression
makes its breath go forcefully straight through to its butt, causing the ***, like an
organ pipe, to resonate by the force of wind.
STREP: So the *** is like a gnat’s natural trumpet? Three cheers for this genius of gastro-entomology!
How easily a defendant would be acquitted if he knew an insect’s anatomy so well!
STUDENT: Sure. But quite recently he had an awesome idea swiped by a lizard.
STREP: In what way? Please, explain.
STUDENT: He was in the middle of mapping out the moon’s orbital path, gazing straight
up, when out of nowhere some gecko on the roof took a *** on him.
STREP: Hahaha! A gecko *** on Socrates. I love it!
STUDENT: Yeah, but last night we went to bed hungry.
STREP: Oh? How did he manage to spoil your supper?
STUDENT: He sprinkled a fine layer of ash on the table, then bending a skewer into a
compass, he ran off and swiped someone’s coat from the gym locker room!
STREP: Wow! Move over Thales! Quick, open up the Thinketerium and show me Socrates ASAP.
I’m going to college! Open the do-- What the Heracles?! What sort of beasts are these?
STUDENT: Why so surprised? How do they appear to you?
STREP: Like a Spartan P.O.W. camp. But those ones there, why on earth are they staring
at the ground?
STUDENT: They’re inquiring into the subterranean.
STREP: Ah, so they’re looking for truffles. Hey there! Don’t worry about that anymore.
I know where to find some nice, big ones. But these guys here, what’s with all their
stooping?
STUDENT: Them? They’re plumbing the darkest depths of Hell.
STREP: With their *** intent on Heaven?
STUDENT: Yes. They’re getting private astronomy lessons. Let’s pack it up, everyone! Socrates
shouldn’t be catching you out here.
STREP: Wait! Not yet! Keep them here. I’ve got my own little quandary to share with them.
STUDENT: No, we’re not allowed to spend too much time out in the open.
STREP: Then by the gods, at least explain to me what these things are.
STUDENT: Well, that thing’s for astronomy.
STREP: What about this?
STUDENT: Geometry.
STREP: What’s that good for?
STUDENT: Measuring the earth, quite literally.
STREP: Oh, because of all those zoning laws?
STUDENT: No. Measuring anything.
STREP: Then that’s quite the clever contraption you’ve got there, people-friendly and practical!
STUDENT: Now this here is a map of the whole world. See Athens there?
STREP: What are you talking about? I don’t believe it. Where are all the lawyers?
STUDENT: No, it’s true. This is the region of Attica.
STREP: Then where are all my fellow Cicynnizens?
STUDENT: They’re in there somewhere. And here’s the island of Euboea, spread out
a long distance parallel to Attica. See?
STREP: Yes, I remember when Pericles made her spread for us. But where’s Sparta?
STUDENT: Where? This is Sparta.
STREP: Ah! Too close to us! Please reconsider and put it far away!
STUDENT: But that’s impossible.
STREP: You’ll live to regret it......Hey, who’s that guy up in that basket?
STUDENT: The man himself.
STREP: The who himself?
STUDENT: Socrates.
STREP: Socrates?! You, holler at him for me, loudly!
STUDENT: Holler at him yourself. I’m busy.
STREP: Socrates! Soooocrateeeeeees!
SOCRATES: Why are you yelling at me, you insect?
STREP: Well first off, tell me what’s up with you.
SOC: I’m space-walking and scrutinizing the sun.
STREP: From a basket? Well if you’re going to be condescending to gods, then why not
from the ground?
SOC: Why? Because I cannot make accurate discoveries of meteorological phenomena unless I suspend
my mind and thought in similarly rarefied air, where they can mingle. If I were to investigate
such lofty matters from below, I would never get any data. The earth would necessarily
exert a gravitational pull on these vapors of thought, like moisture onto kumquats.
STREP: What do you mean? Thought pulls moisture to kumquats? Now come down here, Socrates,
so you can instruct me in the reasons I came here for.
SOC: And for what reasons did you come here?
STREP: I want to learn to debate. For I’m being raided and ransacked by my arrears and
crabby creditors to the point of bankruptcy.
SOC: And how did you fall into debt so unawares?
STREP: A spell of equestrianism engrossed me and consumed me. It’s awful! Now, teach
me that one argument of yours that pays nothing back. And whatever price you charge, I swear
by the gods I’ll repay you.
SOC: What gods are these by which you swear? First rule: the gods aren’t currency here.
STREP: Then what do you swear by? Iron coins, like the Byzantines do?
SOC: Do you wish to know matters of theology for what they really are?
STREP: By Zeus, of course, if that’s even possible.
SOC: And to hold intercourse with the Clouds, our goddesses?
STREP: Yes, absolutely!
SOC: Then take a seat upon the holy cushion.
STREP: OK. I’m sitting.
SOC: Now take this wreath.
STREP: What’s the wreath for? Shucks, Socrates, you’re not going to sacrifice me like Athamas,
are you?
SOC: No. This is all standard procedure for our catechumens.
STREP: And what’ll I get out of all this?
SOC: You will become a seasoned rhetorician, potent and fine as flour. Now hold still.
STREP: Hell no! You can’t fool me. How will garnishing me turn me into flour?
SOC: Old men should be quiet during prayer! Now listen:
Oh Lord and Master, Infinite Space, who hold the earth in orbit,
And dazzling Firmament, and you, exalted Clouds, goddesses electric, seismic,
Arise! Show yourselves, climatic Queens, to the Thinker!
STREP: Not yet! Not yet! Wait till I put my raincoat on or I’ll get soaked! Poor me!
Of all the days I had to leave the house without an umbrella.
SOC: Oh come, oh come, much-honored Clouds, Grant this man your revelation,
Whether ensconced on Olympus’ blizzard-beaten heights,
Or leading the holy choirs of Nymphs in father Ocean’s paradise,
Or drawing the waters of the Nile delta into golden chalices,
Or lording it over Lake Maeotis or Mimas’ snowy cliffs,
Hear my prayer! May my sacrifice be acceptable to you.
Take joy in these holy rites!
SECOND CLOUD: Clouds eternal,
Let us rise and shine in misty manifestation, Up from the churning depths of father Ocean,
Up to the arboreal tresses of mountain peaks, Whence our watchtowers of telescopic sight
To irrigate the fruits of sacred Earth, And the torrents of hallowed rivers.
THIRD CLOUD: For the cosmic eye, ever vigilant
Beams bright with marble rays. Now let us shake off the drizzle
That befogs our immortal forms, And make the earth a witness to our far-seeing
eyes.
SOC: Oh most hallowed Clouds, clearly you have hearkened to my invocations.