The Snorkel and the Pope
He’s got a snorkel, and he’s making a b-line for the bathtub. Hold on. It’s going to be important to establish he’s in a terrible hurry. He’s probably going to knock over a lamp along the way, he’s so reckless. If he’s a lawyer, he’ll knock over the modern lamp with the tasteful bluish shade. If he’s an artist, he’ll knock over the bowling pin-shaped lamp he discovered at a yard sale a few months back. If he’s the pope it’ll be some gaudy, golden African lamp he felt obligated to put in his personal chamber.
We’ll assume he’s the pope. The gold trimmed red-fez lamp hits the marbled chamber floor and splashes out into pieces, an expanding universe of shattered ceramics. Perhaps he hardly notices. The prime minister of Niger may be visiting Rome next week, and he could most likely bring a replacement lamp along with him. Then again, to request such a thing implies that he may have been careless with the first. It is assumed the pope hates to come across as careless.
So he’s headed for the tub, and in this case it’s an elegant, highly decorated tub, freckled with mosaics of rare gems and precious tiles. Perhaps the tub isn’t important. The fact that he’s carrying a snorkel and in such a terrible aforementioned rush seems much more pertinent. By now the reader is curious. Not only desiring further knowledge of the most prominent religious figurehead in the world stripped to his birthday suit, the reader is piqued by the mere suggestion of a snorkel in the tub. The combination of the two are bringing the reader to an intense need, so that they are most likely cracking their toes in anticipation.
It may be known that the pope has a particularly bad case of agoraphobia. Upon receiving such unexpected news, one may initially recoil in wonder. How on earth could the figurehead of the Catholic faith, who stands upon the balcony overlooking millions in St. Peter’s Square, be even the slightest bit apprehensive about facing the outside world? The reader must keep in mind that we could just as easily be speaking about a carpenter who is afraid to climb a ladder, or a swimmer wary of the cold. This particular character, who is decidedly a pope, happens to be agoraphobic. He also happens to be stripping off his heavy robes and spelunking his toes into the bubbling bath water.
The reader must wonder if the snorkel itself is adorned with jewels, and whether the extent of the popes exquisite amenities include personalized diving gear. It may be said that in fact this particular diving accessory is quite ordinary, no different than the type the reader may or may not be familiar with. This might help to bond the reader to the character, the common ground of a typical snorkel may work wonders to unveil similarities between protagonist and patron. It may even inspire a sense of camaraderie or conviction, making the reader feel differently about themselves, or their faith perhaps. If the reader is Hindu, they are most likely abandoned by now. The author must be careful of such things.
It may be said that the pope is entirely submerged by this point, and is experiencing a sensation only conceivable within the territory of his own embellished tub. The water is assumably hot, but not too hot to scald his buttocks. He may be more sensitive to such things from the exorbitant amount of sitting required in his field. This, of course, is entirely up for speculation. It could be said that the pope is now reaching a raisony hand from his resting place and grabbing hold of the snorkel. He may have alternate purposes for using the device, but it may be surmised that he intends to breathe through it, thus remaining submerged in the water. The reader may question if the water inhabiting his tub is in fact holy water, but this is most likely rash and unfounded. Perhaps with enough research of the greater Vatican area, one could make an educated hypothesis as to the nature of the water most likely surrounding him.
Now this is where it might start to get important. There may be revelations of purpose, layered with symbolism that derives the cause of the pope’s current position. They may outline, in various fashions, the possibilities that have led to such a scenario. Methods may be employed to aid the reader in the developmental process, perhaps utilizing postmodern literary techniques. (among others) The author may wish to challenge the boundaries of typical character development. Sequences and/or flashbacks may be activated, segments may be pieced together by eccentric means.
Perhaps they are arranged backwards? (Backwards arranged, are they perhaps?)
In this particular case, we may learn that the pope uses his bathtub as a transportation device. Not for extra-terrestrial purposes, of course, though this is not entirely outside of the extensive realm of science fiction. Perhaps this particular reference to ‘transportation’ refers only to its capability of removing the pope from his current surroundings. It may be that his primary means of escape from his taxing papal duties is a long soak in the holy tub.
Others may be presented, surely, such as the possibility that the pope is intent on drowning himself. Upon careful consideration, claims as these are opposed by such evidence as the previously introduced snorkel. The reader must calculate this possibility in determining a purpose, especially if it is made vague by the author. Calculating the signals provided, the reader is apt to assume the pope’s intentions lie well outside of drowning. While it is still admittedly possible, the story will likely continue on an alternate course.
It may be revealed that the pope is in fact breathing regularly through the snorkel, and staring up through an inverted world of water to the painted facade of the domed bathroom roof. This perspective, while elegant in its description, is assumed to only scratch the surface of its true appearance, from the eyes of the sunken pope. It may be that he sees clearer through this upended outlook to the contour of the sculpted architecture. The reader may assume that the distortion of images underwater is similar for all people, therefore very imaginable to the reader, from the pope’s perspective. The reader may also assume that the shlupping sound one experiences when ones snorkel accidentally slips below the water’s surface, forcing one to toot it out in a sharp blast of air, is universal as well.
Whether the pope is embarrassed by such happenings is entirely speculated as well, as he finally has his privacy, safe in his freckled gem walls. With the knowledge of his agoraphobia., one may postulate that he in more prone to be embarrassed by the vacuum shlupping sound, followed by the trumpeting blowhole sound. Further exploration into such analysis of character may press to expose the pope’s more personal interpretations to universal phenomenon’s. Whether or not he engages in private discussion with rubber ducks, or debates the ‘fate of Poland’ with his scrub brush, such details are not only impertinent, but entirely unnecessary to plot development.
Perhaps it is revealed that the pope is at peace. It may be that the atmosphere of the bathwater floats him far from the hardships and stresses of his papal duties, and allows the man to dream. The reader now must wonder what constitutes the dreams of the religious icon, and whether they transcend horizons of a typical dreamer. The author is granted an opportunity to interject his own interpretation, or to allow the reader to explore his own imagination. The reader may be quite frustrated.
The pope, however, is presumably not. The pope is presumably in heaven, and the reader is offered an amusing play on words. The author has granted access to a forbidden site, unlocked closed doors, and utilized literary devices to write home about. The pope may be free now to end his soak, on his own terms. Perhaps he remains as long as his frail lips can suckle at the snorkel (blatant) before picking up some undesired rash, or inhaling too much water in the tooting process. He may nearly fall asleep, and realize his folly, thinking he could drift into the dreaming world, submerged in heat and tranquil warmth. He may chuckle to himself, but this may cause more spillage.
The length of his soak may not be measured, but is it assumed he towels dry with the finest of cloth, perhaps once presented by a sheik from Ankara. He has most likely accumulated such lavish gifts over time, as his line of work most likely permits. It may be speculated that he sighs in relief of the terrific burden washed down the holy drain, and out through the holy pipes. The last image the reader might witness is him returning leisurely to his candle-lit chamber. He may or may not notice on his way that the broken scraps of lamp have been cleaned from the polished chamber floor in his absence. There may very well be another lamp en route from Niger.
We’ll assume he’s the pope. The gold trimmed red-fez lamp hits the marbled chamber floor and splashes out into pieces, an expanding universe of shattered ceramics. Perhaps he hardly notices. The prime minister of Niger may be visiting Rome next week, and he could most likely bring a replacement lamp along with him. Then again, to request such a thing implies that he may have been careless with the first. It is assumed the pope hates to come across as careless.
So he’s headed for the tub, and in this case it’s an elegant, highly decorated tub, freckled with mosaics of rare gems and precious tiles. Perhaps the tub isn’t important. The fact that he’s carrying a snorkel and in such a terrible aforementioned rush seems much more pertinent. By now the reader is curious. Not only desiring further knowledge of the most prominent religious figurehead in the world stripped to his birthday suit, the reader is piqued by the mere suggestion of a snorkel in the tub. The combination of the two are bringing the reader to an intense need, so that they are most likely cracking their toes in anticipation.
It may be known that the pope has a particularly bad case of agoraphobia. Upon receiving such unexpected news, one may initially recoil in wonder. How on earth could the figurehead of the Catholic faith, who stands upon the balcony overlooking millions in St. Peter’s Square, be even the slightest bit apprehensive about facing the outside world? The reader must keep in mind that we could just as easily be speaking about a carpenter who is afraid to climb a ladder, or a swimmer wary of the cold. This particular character, who is decidedly a pope, happens to be agoraphobic. He also happens to be stripping off his heavy robes and spelunking his toes into the bubbling bath water.
The reader must wonder if the snorkel itself is adorned with jewels, and whether the extent of the popes exquisite amenities include personalized diving gear. It may be said that in fact this particular diving accessory is quite ordinary, no different than the type the reader may or may not be familiar with. This might help to bond the reader to the character, the common ground of a typical snorkel may work wonders to unveil similarities between protagonist and patron. It may even inspire a sense of camaraderie or conviction, making the reader feel differently about themselves, or their faith perhaps. If the reader is Hindu, they are most likely abandoned by now. The author must be careful of such things.
It may be said that the pope is entirely submerged by this point, and is experiencing a sensation only conceivable within the territory of his own embellished tub. The water is assumably hot, but not too hot to scald his buttocks. He may be more sensitive to such things from the exorbitant amount of sitting required in his field. This, of course, is entirely up for speculation. It could be said that the pope is now reaching a raisony hand from his resting place and grabbing hold of the snorkel. He may have alternate purposes for using the device, but it may be surmised that he intends to breathe through it, thus remaining submerged in the water. The reader may question if the water inhabiting his tub is in fact holy water, but this is most likely rash and unfounded. Perhaps with enough research of the greater Vatican area, one could make an educated hypothesis as to the nature of the water most likely surrounding him.
Now this is where it might start to get important. There may be revelations of purpose, layered with symbolism that derives the cause of the pope’s current position. They may outline, in various fashions, the possibilities that have led to such a scenario. Methods may be employed to aid the reader in the developmental process, perhaps utilizing postmodern literary techniques. (among others) The author may wish to challenge the boundaries of typical character development. Sequences and/or flashbacks may be activated, segments may be pieced together by eccentric means.
Perhaps they are arranged backwards? (Backwards arranged, are they perhaps?)
In this particular case, we may learn that the pope uses his bathtub as a transportation device. Not for extra-terrestrial purposes, of course, though this is not entirely outside of the extensive realm of science fiction. Perhaps this particular reference to ‘transportation’ refers only to its capability of removing the pope from his current surroundings. It may be that his primary means of escape from his taxing papal duties is a long soak in the holy tub.
Others may be presented, surely, such as the possibility that the pope is intent on drowning himself. Upon careful consideration, claims as these are opposed by such evidence as the previously introduced snorkel. The reader must calculate this possibility in determining a purpose, especially if it is made vague by the author. Calculating the signals provided, the reader is apt to assume the pope’s intentions lie well outside of drowning. While it is still admittedly possible, the story will likely continue on an alternate course.
It may be revealed that the pope is in fact breathing regularly through the snorkel, and staring up through an inverted world of water to the painted facade of the domed bathroom roof. This perspective, while elegant in its description, is assumed to only scratch the surface of its true appearance, from the eyes of the sunken pope. It may be that he sees clearer through this upended outlook to the contour of the sculpted architecture. The reader may assume that the distortion of images underwater is similar for all people, therefore very imaginable to the reader, from the pope’s perspective. The reader may also assume that the shlupping sound one experiences when ones snorkel accidentally slips below the water’s surface, forcing one to toot it out in a sharp blast of air, is universal as well.
Whether the pope is embarrassed by such happenings is entirely speculated as well, as he finally has his privacy, safe in his freckled gem walls. With the knowledge of his agoraphobia., one may postulate that he in more prone to be embarrassed by the vacuum shlupping sound, followed by the trumpeting blowhole sound. Further exploration into such analysis of character may press to expose the pope’s more personal interpretations to universal phenomenon’s. Whether or not he engages in private discussion with rubber ducks, or debates the ‘fate of Poland’ with his scrub brush, such details are not only impertinent, but entirely unnecessary to plot development.
Perhaps it is revealed that the pope is at peace. It may be that the atmosphere of the bathwater floats him far from the hardships and stresses of his papal duties, and allows the man to dream. The reader now must wonder what constitutes the dreams of the religious icon, and whether they transcend horizons of a typical dreamer. The author is granted an opportunity to interject his own interpretation, or to allow the reader to explore his own imagination. The reader may be quite frustrated.
The pope, however, is presumably not. The pope is presumably in heaven, and the reader is offered an amusing play on words. The author has granted access to a forbidden site, unlocked closed doors, and utilized literary devices to write home about. The pope may be free now to end his soak, on his own terms. Perhaps he remains as long as his frail lips can suckle at the snorkel (blatant) before picking up some undesired rash, or inhaling too much water in the tooting process. He may nearly fall asleep, and realize his folly, thinking he could drift into the dreaming world, submerged in heat and tranquil warmth. He may chuckle to himself, but this may cause more spillage.
The length of his soak may not be measured, but is it assumed he towels dry with the finest of cloth, perhaps once presented by a sheik from Ankara. He has most likely accumulated such lavish gifts over time, as his line of work most likely permits. It may be speculated that he sighs in relief of the terrific burden washed down the holy drain, and out through the holy pipes. The last image the reader might witness is him returning leisurely to his candle-lit chamber. He may or may not notice on his way that the broken scraps of lamp have been cleaned from the polished chamber floor in his absence. There may very well be another lamp en route from Niger.
posted by w.weston at
3:05 AM
2 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
do you think the Pope has a bidet full of holy water?
Nice blog, dude... you even have the same color scheme as me. That automatically garners my respect and lauding.
-Cameron J. Tur.
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