Smile. I had a feeling this would happen. My post,Cruising the blogs which was little more than a sentence, has sparked one of those meandering posts that could go on for ever.
Having Neuronotes, Roughseas and Arch on the same page is a recipe for a long conversation.
And Sonel hasn’t even arrived yet. I am getting out early.
No problemo! This is what blogging is about; com-mun-i-cation.
Anyhow, as the post has sparked a conversation about dyslexia, this short extract seems appropriate.
From the book The Nine Amendments.
Context ( or Tish will give me funny looks)
Dyslexic prophet Mo Sez has climbed to the summit of Mount Sinaisitus to await a ride home from a very special ship. He has been followed by a small band who think he is a tomb raider dressed as a Mummy. This intrepid group includes the ruler of Sunniclimes, Toot at the Moon,his guard Captain, Al Falfa, Minister Abduller, Isack Knewtun and two twins Dick and Sean.
‘Ah, we’ll have company soon,’ said Mo looking skyward. He began to sing along while conducting an invisible orchestra: ‘Do, do, dah, dah, do. Dah, dah, do, do dah.’
There was some more furious starring.
‘Ahem … anyway, that noise will soon drive us all nuts so . . .’ He reached out and pushed something on the sceptre. There was a click. ‘Mute button. It’s okay, they can still hear it. It acts as a relay from the distress beacon.’
‘They?’ said Toot at the Moon.
Mo made an upward motion with his thumb.
‘You seem very sure that we are soon to get a visit from the gods,’ said Toot at the Moon, smiling benignly.
‘Gods. Quite. Listen. I think now would be a good time to explain a few things concerning gods,’ Mo began. ‘You see, it’s like this. I do, or at least have done on occasion suffered from dyslexia.’
‘Yes?’ said Toot at the Moon.
‘Er, you know what that word means, I suppose?’
‘May I, sir?’ Al Falfa asked. The king nodded. ‘My late mother suffered from it. It got so bad we had to put her in an institution, I’m afraid.’
‘I didn’t realise,’ said the king. ‘Why didn’t you say something, Captain? We would have seen she received help.’
‘Thank you, sir. But it was while I was still young. My father didn’t know what else to do with her.’
Mo frowned. ‘Hold on a moment. No one gets put in an institution because of dyslexia.’
‘Oh, we had to. Couldn’t have her running around naked like that. It was too terrible.’
‘What are you talking about; dyslexia is a learning disorder!’ Mo exclaimed.
‘I know,’ Al Falfa agreed earnestly. ‘No matter how many times my father dressed her she never learned to keep her clothes on. As soon as his back was turned, she would strip down to her underwear and run out into the street. Often he wasn’t quick enough and by the time he caught her she had discarded the rest of her attire.’
‘Shame, Captain. I’m sorry,’ the king added in a sympathetic voice.
‘Thank you, Your Majesty. But it’s behind us now. We don’t bring it up any more.’
Abduller was nodding in agreement but Isack had a feeling Al Falfa had misunderstood.
‘Wait, for the gods’ sake. When I said learning disorder I meant it’s to do with reading. How a person sees words,’ Mo explained.
‘Words? Are you sure?’ Al Falfa asked.
‘Yes. Of course, I’m sure. Whatever it was your mother had, it was not dyslexia. Sounds more like senility, if anything.’
‘Oh. So you say,’ Al Falfa retorted.
‘Yes. I do. When a person suffering from dyslexia looks at a word, he sometimes reads it backwards. Why do you think the sign on my tomb says Om?’
‘Ah. I see!’ said Sean, realisation dawning. ‘So you’d be okay when you call to your mum, but she’d get confused if you said you were going for a parc.’
‘You go to the park, not for a park. And why would she get confused if you told her you were going to the park? said Dick. ‘Besides—
‘I am trying to explain about gods, for gods’ sake. Now will you lot listen?’ Mo interrupted. Six heads turned. ‘Thank you. What I am about to tell you will, I’m sure, come as a bit of a shock but,’ he took a breath, ‘there are no gods.’
I’m off for my dinner. T’ra.