La lutte elle-même vers les sommets suffit à remplir un cœur d'homme; il faut imaginer Chrisyphe heureux.
The voice of the Elpheetees spake in unison unto the goddess Twaladriel. "We want a new psygeío! No, we want TWO new psygeía! A big one for pharmaceuticals and another one for food! Yeah! Give us that!"
Twaladriel, in her beneficence, decided to grant their request. For, lo, she too desired a psygeío with a katapsýktis for the Underworld of 𐀄𐀬𐀠𐀊𐀍, her own Olympus. She looked to Chrisyphus and noted his pride. He was getting too much sleep since the princess שָׂרָה had left the Land of Oil along the Smelly-Banks for Ilenweewa and those-who-speak-the-regular-way.
Chrisyphus pondered how to accomplish this impossible task. He asked those who brought the psygeío, but they were of 𐤀𐤉𐤔𐤐𐤍 and did not think his joke about Bruce Lee was very funny. They would not help him with his task.
Chrisyphus conferred with Aarongorn, consort of Twaladriel. Aarongorn pointed to the whelbarwe and said unto him, "This doom has been laid upon thee. Thou and thou alone shalt perform it. A wheel-barrow wight (and White) shalt thou be."
The doomed Chrisyphus despaired, for the breath of Aeolus had left the wheels. Yet, submitting to the torture of the Twaladriel, he tried. First, though, he sought to both fulfill and thwart their will by stealing Aeolus' spirit from the very home of Twaladriel. On Thor's Day, while the gods were absent, he stole into their treasure chamber and sought something to breathe life back into the lifeless wheels. But, alas, Aarongorn had cast a charm of hiding onto that which he sought which, while it was in PLAIN FUCKING SIGHT!!! ... was nevertheless invisible to Chrisyphus.
But Chrisyphus was crafty and found yet another treasure he could use, an ingenious device which could either breathe Aeolian breath OR Phix-a-Phlat! Chrisyphus stole this and, delighting in his own brilliance, began to repair the wheels. But, woe and wailing, he was deceived! For the device ONLY administered Phix-a-Phlat!
Knowing that time was short, Chrisyphus ran with the whelbarwe to another Aeolian device, but it was broken. Again, he flew to yet another Aeolian device only to find that the Phix-a-Phlat had, indeed, ruined the wheels, rendering them unable to receive his breath. And he was too stoopid to change them for the new wheels he found.
So, on Saturn's Day, dejected Chrisyphus paid the pauper's token to rent an ancient whelbarwe. Thus began his journey. According to the will of Twaladriel, he must move the new psygeío to replace the psygeío with the katapsýktis and move all the pharmaceuticals to the new psygeío. Then, he must move the psygeío with the katapsýktis to the underworld of Twaladriel's Olympus and then move the psygeío in the underworld to satisfy the Elpheetees.
The beginning was deceptively smooth. Chrisyphus moved all the pharmaceuticals from the psygeío with the katapsýktis to the new psygeío. Then, he lifted the psygeío with the katapsýktis, which weighed a phuck-tonne, and began dragging it across broken stone through the Land of Oil to Twaladriel's Olympus.
As he reached the halfway point, an unexpected voice came unto him. "Hey." It was Josiah ... phus!!! Together, they shared the load and reached the outskirts of Twaladriel's Olympus!!! But their joy was short-lived. For, lo, the doors to the Underworld weren't wide enough for the psygeío with the katapsýktis.
As Chrisyphus despaired, a voice came from Olympus saying, "WHAT IN HADES IS GOING ON HERE?!?" 'Twas Aarongorn, consort of Twaladriel, and their progeny, Iago! Aarongorn scoffed, thinking, "Chrisyphus may be of good-will, but he is also a shit-show." Nevertheless, with a mighty word (and an electric screw-driver), Aarongorn removed the doors of the psygeío with the katapsýktis and those of the Underworld. Thus, were Chrisyphus and Josiah ... phus able, with great effort, to move the behemoth to its new, Tartaran home.
Yet, their job was not done. For the other psygeío must needs be brought to the Elpheetees or Chrisyphus would suffer the libel of the Leelee, the contempt of the Cailee and the scorn of the Scara! So, with his strength waning, he and Josiah ... phus began carrying the psygeío from the Underworld to the land of the living. Yet, though Chrisyphus had definitely checked to make sure there was enough space, the psygeío could not make it through the door! Because he forgot to factor in the fucking plug, that's why!
Finally, they made it through.
You have already grasped that Chrisyphus is the absurd hero. He is, as much through his ADD as through his torture. His scorn of preparation, his hatred of paying someone to move shit that he could move just fine thank you, and his passion for making things more complicated than they need to be won him that unspeakable penalty in which the whole being is exerted toward accomplishing nothing. This is the price that must be paid for not taking a double-dose of Vyvance before making cereal much less anything more complicated. Nothing is told us about Chrisyphus in the underworld. Myths are made for the imagination to breathe life into them.
We leave Chrisyphus on the Day of the Sun, alone lugging the psygeío for the Elpheetees! One always finds one's burden again. But Chrisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises refrigerators. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each fold of that fridge, each rickety board of that night filled stairwell, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Chrisyphus happy ... probably because his mind wandered and he was thinking about Star Wars or some shit like that instead of focusing on what he was doing.
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