Thursday, March 17, 2005

Pharyngula: The Musical (Part Eight of Several)

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SCENE: A Courtroom, characterized by Ludicrous Rococo Stylings, and an Excessive Number of Crosses. The Jury sits to the Right, with Spectators to the Left, various Students among them. His Holiness, having installed himself as Judge, is seated on High. PZ is led onstage, in Chains, by a Grim Contingent of Churchgoers. Enter the Narrator, now covered in red As from Head to Toe.

POMPOUS NARRATOR: The trial of Mr. P.Z. Myers, for his heinous and EGREGIOUS crimes against Sturch and Chate. Stach and Churte. Ah, confound it! What's the difference, anyway? For his heinous and egregious crimes against...God.

Exit Narrator, stage left. PZ is led to the Dock. The Churchgoers parade Grandly about the Stage, praying for God's Justice.

CHURCHGOERS: Holy Father, hear our plea.
Let your sacred justice be
Meted out on Earth today;
Thus we wish, and thus we pray.

HIS HOLINESS: Thy will be done.

CHURCHGOERS: Guide the scales of justice, Lord;
Thus we pray; thus we implore.
Raise the righteous to your side;
Crush the sinner's shameful pride.

HIS HOLINESS: Thy will be done.

CHURCHGOERS: Separate us, wheat from chaff;
Guide us with your clement staff.
Show us mercy; show us truth;
Shield us from the mob uncouth.

HIS HOLINESS: Thy will be done.

PZ MYERS: (Talk about mobs uncouth!)

PZ is Clobbered about the Head by a nearby Official of the Court.

CHURCHGOERS: Spare the rod and spoil the child.
Punishment will not be mild
For the man who takes the name
Of our blessed Lord in vain.

HIS HOLINESS: Thy will be done.

PZ MYERS: Will this anthem never cease?
Can't a convict have some peace?
Me, I think I'd rather fry
Than listen to this horrid rhy--

The Violent Official of the Court closes PZ's mouth with an Enormous Padlock.

--mm-mm-mm mm; mm-mm-mm mm.

CHURCHGOERS: Holy Father, hear our hymn;
Shine your light in corners dim!
Raise the faithful to the sky;
Strike the heathen from on high!

HIS HOLINESS: On earth as it is in Heaven--Thy will be done.

PZ MYERS: mm-mm-mm mm; mm-mm-mm mm.

The Terrible Rhyme comes to a stop, at Last.

RANDOM CHURCH OFFICIAL: The charges will now be read.

HIS HOLINESS (clearing his Throat): The Prisoner stands accused, et cetera, et cetera--

RANDOM CHURCHGOER A: --of instruction felonious--

RANDOM CHURCHGOER B: --affairs disharmonious--

RANDOM CHURCH OFFICIAL: --an occasional penchant for booze!

R.C.A.: --of teachings incredible--

R.C.B.: --and excesses edible--

R.C.O.: --and magazines meant to amuse.

R.C.A.: He treats every Sunday
as if it were Monday,
and treads on the carpet in shoes!

R.C.B.: He cries evolution,
and suchlike pollution,
and perpetrates many a ruse.

R.C.O.: He lectures with levity;
but quite without brevity,
and relegates God to the pews!

R.C.A.: occasional penchant for booze!

R.C.B.: ...magazines meant to amuse!

ALL THREE: ...treads on the carpet in shoes!

HIS HOLINESS: Very well. The Prisoner is charged with myriad forms of heresy, and with treason against both the Church of Divine Creation, and our great country, itself.

PZ MYERS: Mm!? Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm!


HIS HOLINESS: Order in the court!

Enter the Narrator, pursued by a Throng of Churchgoers, who Chase him Several Times about the Courtroom as he Speaks.

POMPOUS NARRATOR: And so, we find our (gasp! wheeze!) brave P.Z. Myers accused of treason and heresy, and, furthermore, reduced to incoherency with an adroitly-placed padlock! What a predicament! What a pickle! How on earth will he get out of this one?

The Narrator runs off into the Wings, Churchies in Hot Pursuit.
Part 9


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