“The day I was born I was born free and that is my Privilege.”


Deposition Cat
August 13, 2008, 12:36 pm
Filed under: All That Jazz!, Tabloid

I read a case about domestic violence, of a Caucasian accused of hitting his Asian wife, who was reported to be “mentally-ill.” Their two-year-old son was taken from their custody by a community social worker. The couple appealed saying that this was all a misunderstanding.

The father said he never laid a hand on his wife, that the yelling heard by their neighbor was just his wife depressed on her daughter’s immigrant application being denied. He claimed to be a good father. As a matter of fact, baby gates were installed on the second floor stairs to prevent the child from falling off through the first floor.

The mother, though, there is a language barrier, defended herself well. She took medications for her allegedly mental illness, she attested, but she stopped after the community social worker told her that she was already cured. The lawyer asked her if she would attend any counseling given by the local government. She said that she would if it was reasonable.

“When you say “reasonable,” what do you mean?” the lawyer asked.

She struggled to explain what she meant, which can be summarized by saying that she cannot afford to attend those activities because she needed to provide for her children, she needed to help her husband secure their children’s future.

Their house was inspected by Conan Doyle. Every corner was sought for evidence of their negligence. They found cat urine on the carpet, cat feces on the second floor. Alas, a cat could be a witness, they said. The father was questioned about the cat with the five W’s and one H, but he failed to give them its name. Cat Doe like John Doe, it was called. But they ponder for they think such a name did not suit the witness-cat.

THE NAMING OF CATS

By T.S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter.

It isn’t just one of your holiday games;

You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter

When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.

First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,

Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,

Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey–

All of them sensible everyday names.

There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,

Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:

Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter–

But all of them sensible everyday names.

But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,

A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,

Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,

Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?

Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,

Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,

Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-

Names that never belong to more than one cat.

But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,

And that is the name that you never will guess;

The name that no human research can discover–

But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.

When you notice a cat in profound meditation,

The reason, I tell you, is always the same:

His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation

Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:

His ineffable effable

Effanineffable

Deep and inscrutable singular Name.


—————————————————–

It’s a magical realism.

_____________________________________________________________

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