The first prohibition of Iao Sabaoth was, “Don’t eat this fruit.” What he really meant was, “Don’t talk to snakes.”
Snakes will fuck you up, man. Especially if you’re a woman. Don’t talk to snakes, and if you’re a man, stay away from women to talk to snakes. Those bitches will fuck you up.
Once a goddess named Eurynome talked to a snake named Ophion. The rest is history. Eurynome and Ophion lost touch, and they’ve been trying to get back together ever since.
Once a snake named Glykon talked to a guy named Alexander who lived in Abonuteichos. Alexander listened, and he had a great time fleecing rich matrons of their money with his Glykon-puppet, because women who talk to snakes, am I right? The coins kept rolling in until the day the puppet stood up on its own and started talking back.
Glykon slithered away, but maybe he’s talked to some other people, like a guy named Aleister, and a lady named Frieda, and another guy named Alan. Wonder why he likes guys whose names start with AL.
In the madhouse, the sanest man is king. “We’re all mad here,” said the Reverend Dr. Dodgson, and he knew best, didn’t he? He liked to see little girls with their clothes off. Keep your hat on, even if it drives you mad. And remember what the dormouse said.
I talked to Chnoubis the other day, and he said he’d seen Eurynome tricking on the corner of Read and Park, waiting for the man. “Waiting for the snake,” I said, but I’d lost Ophion’s phone number. I’d have to ask Glykon next time I saw him.
But what do I know? I’m just some woman who talks to snakes.