Animadversions.

The weblog of Joshua Drescher

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February 22nd, 2005 · 1 Comment · Art, Misc., Rants

“SEPPUKU” is defined in my huge leather dictionary as “ceremonial suicide, by ripping open the abdomen with a dagger or knife, formerly practiced in Japan by members of the warrior class, when disgraced or sentenced to death.”

That is the word I was looking for when my boys from Kentucky went belly-up and disgraced the whole state by losing ugly in the second round of the NCAA Tournament. It was a terrible shock to every cell in my body. My heart went limp and the air rushed out of my lungs for 20 or 30 seconds when I saw the final score, and I fell sideways into a plate of watermelon. It was like being whacked from behind with a baseball bat.

The shot that sent Kentucky home and the Good Doctor into a state of shock. I blacked out momentarily, but the room had already emptied except for two girls who were snickering at me as they backed out the door. I was so swollen with shame that I felt like a Japanese Fugue fish in heat — and that was when I thought about Seppuku. It was the only honorable way out, so I reached for my gold-handled Samurai sword.

Just then, the telephone rang and I heard the angry voice of my friend Curtis. A chill went through me. He was moaning and jabbering hysterically about his aged mother shooting herself with the heirloom family shotgun.

“She’ll be better off dead, anyway,” he moaned, “and so will I.”

I said nothing about what I was about to do when he called. It seemed like the wrong thing to say at the time, and I didn’t want to be blamed for his death.

So I hung up on him and cried for a long time. Then I decided to dress up in a proper costume for the ceremony while I listened, dreamfully, to Dean Martin croon a teenage love song with the lyrics, “He’s got you … I’ve got your picture, he’s got you.”

-HST

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1 response so far ↓

  • 1 Leo // Apr 27, 2005 at 11:55 pm

    Above all, remember that the door stands open. Be not more fearful than children; but as they, when they weary of the game, cry, “I will play no more,” even so, when thou art in the like case, cry, “I will play no more” and depart. But if thou stayest, make no lamentation.

    -Epictetus

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