[Myth] Afa and the Bird

Once upon a time, cats ruled the world. This was in the time of Egypt, of Assyria, of Phoenicia. It was a time of sand and heat. These were the favored conditions for cats, so they thrived and grew as a species. They were worshiped as gods; Bast, Sekhmet-- only two of the many goddesses associated with cats.

Over the sands of Egypt rose a dynasty of cats. After years of battles with the jackals of the desert, the mighty cats rose as rulers of the land. The first Cat King was actually a Queen, and her name was Afa. As was the custom in the land, Afa was disguised as a king rather than a queen, and lived her life pretending to be a male cat.

One day, Afa was strolling down the banks of the Nile and she came upon a bird. This was a water bird, leggy and long-necked, with a great beak and narrow eyes. It was a savage creature to any unwary fish, but it had been brought low. On the side of that great river, it lay. Afa sat beside it and pondered. She would have loved to have been the one to catch the water bird, but eating it while it lay there seemed like too little of a challenge to her.

"What are you waiting for?" asked water bird. "Do you not plan to eat me?"

"I do," Afa proclaimed, rising to all four feet, "but I will not eat you if you are less than your best."

So for forty-nine days and nights, Afa nursed the water bird back to health in the comfort of her palace. She gave it broth made of fish, bathed its wounds in the softest of silks, and gently kissed its head every night before bed. When the day dawned that the bird could once more take flight, she jumped on its back and ate it all up.

Moral: Cats are capricious, but they never lie.

Bad: The Question of Why

Bad: The Question of Why

by

Jake,

Court Archivist,

otherwise known as, much to his frustration,

The Other Simon

The nature of bad is such that

 a cat can commit it without ever knowing, or necessarily realize what they've done,

as badness is in the nature of the cat.

As nature is natural, and we understand natural to be good,

can badness be bad?

Is badness evil? Is goodness, for a cat, bad?

The paradox of our existence breaks my brain.

Simon is exalted.

We are NOT amused!

Hmph. My Court Archivist's poem has weird rhythm. How dare he make me an ode where the rhythm is all weird? I am NOT AMUSED. He must, obviously, try again, because I am too awesome to have a poem that is not perfect.

In other news, I am very tired. I am a tired cat. I work very hard here, and people insist on writing bad poems about me! How dare they.

 I need to come up with a new plan of bad. Something that will impress everyone. Something ode-worthy. But what? What could I do that would be that downright awesome?

Hmm.... I must scheme away and figure something out!

Adoringly yours,
Simon

An Ode to Bad

An Ode to Bad

by

Jake,

Court Archivist,

otherwise known as, much to his frustration,

The Other Simon

Simon was a good cat

Well, no, he was very bad

He loved to play his humans

They were his favorite game

The only beings able to amuse him--

Most other cats were very lame

(Of course, in comparison to dogs,

and rabbits, ferrets, humans.

Cats were the best of all,

even beating out animals with rumens.)

Simon invented names.

He set himself challenges in all his games.

He made up his enemies and denounced their ways.

He made up rebellions and made the rebels pay.

And in the beginning, though he merely headed the Department of Bad,

now he is the King, and we are not sad.

(Help us!)

Discovery! Simon's Cat.

I have discovered that a fellow cat has been immortalized in my name. Okay, perhaps not in my name but honestly, we all know that every Simon in the world refers in some way to me, don't we? Let's not kid ourselves-- the name Simon can only be referential to my awesomeness, can it not?

Wholeheartedly, I give to you, Simon's Cat. The video below is, in particular, reflective of the season. I feel that Simon's Cat truly reflects the awesome powers of catdom, and our constant struggle to be well fed.



Reminding me, of course, that The Diet has failed spectacularly and you might not be able to discern me from The Other Simon, my dear court archivist, Jake. We appear to have an equal amount of, ah, majesty, shall we say?

A cat is always in need of more majesty.

Yours in rotundness,
Simon

Simon's Rebuttal, Part Three

The latest in Simon's attempts to regain his position as head of the entertainment division-- and perhaps even be promoted to King of Bad!-- has been been "helping."

To understand what a smart idea this is for him, you have to keep in mind that "helping" is a time-honored cat tradition. Countless of our forefathers (known as "foretoms" in certain dialects of meow) have studied this art and honed it to such an extent that the ability to "help" can make or break a cat's attempt to do bad. Simon softens the irritable edges of his "helping" by providing an adorable view and being innocently mischievous about what he does. This keeps the humans from being disturbed overly much, but lightens up their moods and keeps them entertained.

Meanwhile, Cookie... slept. And slept. And slept some more. Has she considered yet that cuteness will only get her so far? I've tried to advise her, but she won't take my generous words in the spirit of which they're given-- she only says I'm trying to help Simon. Admittedly, us Ceiling Cats are better than her cranky calico ways, but I still do my best to help whomsoever asks!

I wonder what will happen in this struggle next?

Moreover, if Simon is made King of Bad, will I be the Chronicler of Badness? A truly historically important position, befitting my age and majesty of stature.

Indeed. If these youngsters will just sort out their differences and let the clinic's cat struggle stabilize, all will be well and I can take on an extremely rewarding position!

Cookie! Simon! Get right on that.

Leaving you with one last war photo of Simon,
eagerly yours,
Jake

Simon's Rebuttal, Part Two

What's this, you might say? Simon is in the medicine cabinet?

It is a brilliant ploy, I have to admit. Bottles knocked every which way, work disrupted for precious minutes, and countless volumes of hilarity caused. Simon is the master of causing rueful admiration. People run for cameras whenever he does bad things, whereas Cookie just can't manage to be quite as photogenic. She doesn't have the charisma that we white cats ha-- I mean, that Simon has. Himself. Not me. *cough*

The humans were so amused by his doings that they ran for the camera and even put him back in when, humble, he tried to leave. Or escape the scene of the crime. I'm not quite sure of his reasoning, there.

Unless Cookie starts actually trying to hold her position, I'm afraid that Simon's going to win this and will not only receive back his title of head of the entertainment division, but also receive the title of King of Bad!

With some reservation,
yours,
Jake

Simon's Rebuttal, Part One

My dear audience, this is Jake, also known as the Second Simon by those who don't realize that I was here first. I only have three words for you to start: youngsters these days! They have no staying power. Cookie has been lounging about, doing nothing, ever since she won her position as head of the entertainment division! It seems like all she even wanted was to just say that she got one over on Simon, and since then, she's been good-for-nothing.

Cookie has officially turned the blog over to me, Jake, until Simon lands on his feet, as all cats do, and takes back over again. Not that she put it that way, of course. She just waved a paw and said, "It's all cool, Second Simon. Just go away."

I've said it once and I'll say it again-- youngsters! It's a sad state of affairs when a cat can't even keep hold of what was hard won, and we all know that Simon is Badder than Cookie could ever hope to be.

The first of Simon's take-back attempts was a mixture of adorability and annoyingness. (Yes, both of those are indeed words.) By laying on the blood machine, he obstructed work and provided a cuddly mass of devious feline intelligence to distract from any work that could be accomplished without the blood machine. It was a brilliant opening ploy. In reply... Cookie didn't notice. Her passive tactics of cuteness might have stolen her the position of head of the entertainment division in the first place, but they won't let her keep it. It's Simon's ingenuity that will win the day.

No, there is no white-cats-only prejudice going on here! Silence!

Until next week,
your affable author,
Jake

Warm weather? Cats rejoice!

I, Simon, am here to talk to you about SERIOUS BUSINESS. The vaccuum is trying to eat me! You can see it curled all around my unsuspecting feet, readying itself to pounce and steal my soul. Why is everything in this veterinary clinic always about eating/hurting/maiming/denying treats/etc. poor Simon? It's like the entire world revolves around me!

...Who am I kidding? Of COURSE the entire world revolves around me. I'm Simon, the original Bad Cat after all.

Has anyone else been enjoying the awesome, cat-errific weather? I and the Other Simon (i.e. Jake) have. The heat is not cat-astrophic, but instead cat-astic. Okay, okay. I'm done making puns now, I swear. Cross my little black heart-- made of gold, truly-- and hope to die.

I'm trying to make the Other Simon get up here to do a fantastic guest blog post, but he's SO hard to convince. It seems like he just doesn't want to get in on all this Bad Cat action. Honestly, though, who wouldn't want to be as awesomely Bad as Cookie and I? He just doesn't understand the hard work that goes into planning all of our tricks and mischievous rendez-vous.

More mischief for you next time. Cookie and I are just feeling too lazy at the moment to do more than soak up the sun.

Sunshine hugs and kisses,
sincerely,
your favorite Bad Cat,
Simon

New Pastimes

Cookie and I have a new pastime. It's called, Trick the Humans. It's really a lot of fun-- everyone should play it, because it's awesome!

Step one: Look down the drain mysteriously. (Definition of "mysteriously": in a cat-like manner.)

Step two: Do this often.

Rinse, repeat, and try not to get too wet. We've decided that there are fish living in the drains. Cookie, who actually believes this rather than just pretending, like me, meows that when she finds one, she'll make it a pet and call it Walter. I have tried not to snicker TOO much. It's not dignified.

If there were fish, I wonder what their lives would be like. They'd have to only swim vertically rather than horizontally, shooting through the pipes. Though there are probably horizontal pipes. I think I don't quite understand the concept of pipes. Hmm....

Jake has decided that we're both insane. Insanity is fun, though! Cats are creatures of the good kind of insanity. It's why we balance on skinny poles and things very far up in the air. It amuses the humans, and more importantly, it amuses us. When it suits us, anyway. :P


TTYL, people!

Your faithful blog writer,
signing off,
Simon

The latest news in SimonLand!

The current belief is that cuteness will prevail as often as badness in the entertainment department, so Cookie and I have been trying to concentrate our efforts in that area for now (so the badness will surprise them later!).

Some of our efforts required coercing Jake to helping us (also known as Simon, the buggy, not-awesome version 1.0, or the Other!Simon). It was an epic time of epic cuteness, and we did well, staging it just so that people would see us but not think that it was actually staged for their benefit. I go to so much work for these people, and do they ever compliment me or give me the 'nip? Well, sometimes, but generally, NO!

Then, Cookie did her part by displaying the tried and true "Cat in Box" pose. The "awws" were astounding; good response to the newcomer! I may be able to take a vacation this year if she keeps doing my job for me. Having help is almost as awesome as being the one and only King of Badness.

That's all for now, folks. Stay tuned for more tails of Epicness and Awesome.

Yours forever,
Simon

The Tale of Two Simons

Hi all! I am here to tell you the mysterious and strange Tale of Two Simons.

First, there was one Simon. This Simon's name is Jake. He sits on the left of the picture. He is well-liked by all, but is nowhere near as awesome as the second Simon. The second Simon sits on the right. He is handsome and has personality, and is your fine narrator. All was well in the land of two Simons until people began to realize that if they didn't feed the second, more awesome Simon less, he would look as round as the first, less awesome Simon.

And then began The Diet. This Diet was not a form of parliament, but something infinitely more evil. It turns out that The Diet involves... giving Simons less food.

EGADS! HORRORS! NOOOOO!

So on one paw, I weigh less now and they'll actually stop reducing my food. On the other paw, they've been feeding me less food. On the third paw, they leave around sandwiches that I can eat, so it's not that bad. On the fourth paw, I know how to disconnect all of their phones in retribution.

The good is balanced by the bad.

This is Simon, your beloved blog-writer,
signing off.