Bubbles Reads Camus

The Atonement 7-2-02

Bubbles Reads Camus

After piercing her right nipple and suffering a momentary pang of
middle class, "do as your daddy says,"Bubbles determined a course of
physical atonement for her cosmetic sin.

Having recently acquired an existential viewpoint from a Bantom
paperback translation of Camus' "L'Etranger," the "Doomed if we do"
Bubbles determined upon a course of "just reasonability," which is to
say, Bubbles had decided that her punishment should fit her
crime.

Therefore Bubbles, who had just polished off Bulfinch's "Mythology,"
equated her plight with that of Sisyphus, the sinner condemned in
Tartarus to an eternity of rolling a boulder uphill, only to watch it
roll back down again.

Bubbles - a great Tragedian actress equal in conviction if not in
ability, of the heroines of Sophocles and Euripedes (she had gone so
far as to contemplate emulating Euripedes canine fate but, Bubbles was
even afraid of her neighbors toy poodle "Squeekums" -swooned on her
mother's imitation Louis XVI divan and just before fading to black,
grabbed a chocolate wafer from the majolica candy dish strategically
placed for such "Bubblish outbursts" and popped the treat in her
waiting mouth.

Restored to her heroic propensities, Bubbles AKA "Our little actress"
became determined to crack open her Aeschylos bust she used as a piggy
bank. Bubbles, with a giggle, considered herself the offending turtle
as she sang:

"Bang bang Maxwell's silver hammer came down upon his head. Bang bang
Maxwell's silver hammer made sure that he was dead."

She brought the Craftsmans' Claw hammer crashing down upon the
unsuspecting Greek Tragedian's bas relief dome.

"Hi yo, pay dirt!" Bubbles chortled, tickled to the pink with Romish
pride as her eyes took on a glare of the "far-away girl." Bursting from
her room, our Bubbles, all toil and troubles, rushed to the local bus
depot. Bubbles, being the first to board the jitney, bounded her way to
her favorite middle-section seat and waited for the driver of her
chariot to take her away to the local Wal*Mart.

While there, she loaded up on all-purpose Plaster of Paris and flew
home as fast as her Hermes'-like footsies would tote her.

Bubbles was way way big into the symbolism thing, having dug the idea
out of an old, tattered copy of "Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight."

All hopped up on philosophic expiation, she splurged on a, "taxi, taxi,
hey, you Goll dang taxi!" and soon after, her heart aflutter, found
herself in her 60'x 60' backyard.

Bubbles' plot was a hatchin' in her skull. She filled a Sears &;amp;
Roebuck 1979 wooden handled, aluminum wheelbarrow with white powdered
gypsum (calcium sulphate) and after liberally applying water, formed a
paste. After filling and dumping the barrow some 45 odd times,
Bubbles
formed a 15-foot high mammary gland, complete with protruding nipple
which also sported a ring.

Soon, the breast was hardened and Bubbles, the philosophic queen, was
ready for her atonement. She attempted to climb the boobie in hopes of
grasping that ring, but each time she tried, she rolled back down in a
sisyphisian revelry.
Thus, Bubbles punishment for acquiring a nipple ring was to forever
climb the bosom of regret, and to acknowledge a theory, she'd fallen
upon, that life is absurd and the only one we get.