
Canto Sixty-Four – The Ruins of Tanith and Davalon’s Nesting Quarters
Farbick led his small band of rebels into the gaping hole the forward stabilizer arm of the Bonehead had cut into the side of the bio dome. The wreckage inside the building was pretty extensive.
“You really think we can stop the Senator?” Stabharh asked Farbick from directly behind the Telleron leader of the rebels.
“We can if we can convince more of his crew to join us in resisting his mad planetary death wish.”
“That’s going to be pretty hard. Senator Tedhkruhz is extremely evil and his men are mostly very weak minded.” Slahshrack was a real ray of sunshine in the gloom of the situation.
“We have to try,” said Starbright, “otherwise your species and your planet will be extinct.”
“Wait a minute, what’s this?” Farbick said, hearing a moan in a rubble pile and noticing a slight movement amidst the shattered concrete shards.
With Stabharh’s help he and Starbright began un-piling the stones, and soon two small Telleron bodies were revealed.
“Davalon! And is that Tanith with you?”
Davalon was holding Tanith tightly in his arms. The tadpoles were both bruised and bloodied, but technically still breathing.
“Can either of you still talk?” Starbright asked.
“A… a little…” Davalon was obviously wearied by the effort.
“What are you doing here?” Farbick asked. “You tadpoles should all be safe on board the mother ship. Why would Xiar send you here?”
“He… ah, didn’t. We took a wing without permission and came to help this world survive.”
“We… ah, didn’t know we were doing that last part when we… ak, set off on the adventure,” Tanith said with a painful wince.
“You both have extensive injuries. We have to get you both to someplace safe where you can hibernate and recuperate,” Starbright said.
“Do you know what this place is?” Farbick asked, since the tadpoles had apparently been in the place for a while.
“Yes… ouch… it’s a science facility where they are trying to restore the atmosphere of the planet and create new viable… ahg!…food sources.” Davalon was in quite a lot of pain.
“So scientists survived?” asked Stabharh, quite surprised.
“One,” answered Tanith. “A little Galtorrian girl named Sizzahl. But she’s… oof!… a very intelligent little girl.”
“She’ll be the reason Tedhkruhz came here,” said Stabharh. “He means to slay anyone and everyone who might be smart enough to bring this planet back to life.”
“We have to stop him,” Farbick said. “Where do you suppose he is now?”
“I don’t know,” said Stabharh, “and I have no idea how to find him.”
“When I was a little lizard,” said Slahshrack, “I would turn to the last chapter of the book and read ahead to find the answer.”
“We can’t do that here, stupid,” said Stabharh. “This is real life, not some idiot fiction book!”
“Yeah, too bad about that, huh.”
*****
































Fauns
Fauns originate in Greek mythology as forest spirits, sensual, playful, and infused with the energies of the natural world. They are followers of Pan, the god of the forest. They are hedonistic, seeking sexual gratification from nymphs and human girls, loving wine and feasting. They are not the same things as satyrs, though Roman mythology would come along and squeeze them both into the same mold.
So, why am I, a boy from Iowa of distinctly German ancestry, so fascinated and obsessed by fauns in art and literature?
The answer is both goofy and creepy. I have a faun of my own. He lives with me as an invisible friend. His name is Radasha. He is Harvey to my Elwood. (That’s a Jimmy Stewart movie reference if the twists and turns of my mind confuse you.) Just like the fauns of mythology when confronted with travelers and wanderers, he sometimes helps with guidance and advice, and he sometimes does me mischief with ridicule and wicked tricks.
My theory for why my convoluted psyche has need of invisible companions goes back to the fact that I was sexually assaulted when I was ten. That is why Ra is basically a ten-year-old boy with the legs, tail, and horns of a goat. He is the sexual/sensual part of me that got split off from my inner self by that traumatizing event.
Being a child-victim can do terrible things to a boy. It seriously interfered with my blossoming interest in girls. It turned me from an inventive, out-going leader of the gang into a quiet and somewhat timid introvert. I repressed the memory of the actual event, more of a torture-situation than seduction, so that the real psychological damage of it occurred at the subconscious level. I began to worry that I might be gay. I began to seriously loathe myself and my own body. I went so far as to burn myself on my lower back by lying against the furnace grate in order to repress desires I felt were evil.’
Radasha showed up at my bedroom window late one snowy night when I was about seventeen years old. He began talking at me, making fun of me for being terrified of girls, and encouraging me to risk being naked more. He wanted me to enjoy the idea of sex more and shy away from it less. In some ways, he kept that part of me alive.
Of course, I made myself familiar with the mythological creature Radasha obviously was. I read everything I could about it. I even acquired a copy of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Marble Faun and read it with great fascination even though the prose was dense and archaic. I realized that I wasn’t alone in using fauns as an artistic expression of the repressed sensuality that constantly consumed me. Ra was there to needle me and encourage me, to lead me to learn how to better like myself.
I know by now most readers will have given up on this post already, put off by bizarre self-analysis of my rather atypical case of abnormal psychology. But being naked more is apparently part of faun-therapy. At Ra’s insistence, I am making myself more psychologically and metaphorically naked by revealing these things here in a blog that mostly nobody reads anyway. And naked fauns in my artwork are a definite thing that merits exploration. So if you have actually read this far through this mythological mold spore of an essay, you now know about as much about me as I know about myself. And you will probably do just as I do. You will shake your head and continue to wonder how any one old guy can be quite so weird.
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