At the most recent meeting of the Kachina Round Table, which was attended by all our columnists, Ms. Talia la Musa mentioned that lately she had been feeling more neurotic than usual.
This offhanded remark led to a lengthy group discussion of neurosis. Mr. Myles na Gopaleen Jr. started by treating us to a lengthy disquisition on the history of the term, which, it turns out, was first used by an obscure Scotch physician, William Cullen, in 1777 but had been given its canonical meaning by Sigmund Freud (1856-1939), who took pains to differentiate it from psychosis, a mental condition in which the sufferer has lost the proper sense of reality, etc., etc.
“I didn’t say I was nuts,” interrupted Ms. la Musa as Mr. na Gopaleen paused to catch his breath.
“When inhabiting an urn,” Mr. Ab Ennis explained, “you’re pretty much all ash. We don’t have that problem.” (This last while turning his head to observe what was left of the former Mr. Orville Slack IV, who is pretty much all ash, too, and has been outfitted with the robotic apparatus that would allow him to move about in a humanoid fashion, perhaps even allow him, when properly attired, as is Mr. Ennis, to run for the second highest office in the land.)
“Exactly!” replied Mr. na Gopaleen. “Upon incineration, known also to the undiscerning as cremation, the nerves have been destroyed—a situation that prevents even the slightest symptoms of what was formerly known as neurosis, in the Freudian and, indeed, the post-Freudian, world of thought.”
“Burnt to a crisp,” observed Mr. Ennis.
“Which allows you to run for president without a helluva lot of baggage,” observed Mr. Slack IV facetiously.
“I’m too young to die,” inserted Ms. Mews, age 62. “I figure I’ve got maybe 30 years left, if I play my cards right.”
“My point,” replied Mr. na Gopaleen, who is known as Gop behind his back, and he cleared his throat in preparation for the body of his oncoming lecture, “My point is that so-called ‘neurosis’ is no longer a condition to which flesh is heir. Psychotherapy,” he continued, “is a dying art. It has been replaced by medicine. The implication of this profound change is that the word ‘neurosis’ and its cognates are swiftly disappearing from the common lexicon.”
He looked around at the robots and living persons that were gathered about the Round Table of the Hôtel Adobe.
“I predict,” he said, casting his eye on Ms. la Musa, “that should you continue living for the additional three decades for which you are planning, then [triumphantly] you will be the last neurotic!”
And so, his oration suddenly and unexpectedly at an end, he lifted the mug of stout before him and raised it [Ed. note: other authorities say “lifted it.”] to his loquacious lips. “Good God!” muttered Thalia Mews from the left side of her mouth.
“I used to be a neurotic,” offered Ab Ennis, hopeful candidate for president under the banner of the Dead Rights Party.
“That was pre-ash,” wisely observed Orville Slack IV, who knew whereof he spoke.
“Let’s take a break,” I suggested.
And we did.
This offhanded remark led to a lengthy group discussion of neurosis. Mr. Myles na Gopaleen Jr. started by treating us to a lengthy disquisition on the history of the term, which, it turns out, was first used by an obscure Scotch physician, William Cullen, in 1777 but had been given its canonical meaning by Sigmund Freud (1856-1939), who took pains to differentiate it from psychosis, a mental condition in which the sufferer has lost the proper sense of reality, etc., etc.
“I didn’t say I was nuts,” interrupted Ms. la Musa as Mr. na Gopaleen paused to catch his breath.
“When inhabiting an urn,” Mr. Ab Ennis explained, “you’re pretty much all ash. We don’t have that problem.” (This last while turning his head to observe what was left of the former Mr. Orville Slack IV, who is pretty much all ash, too, and has been outfitted with the robotic apparatus that would allow him to move about in a humanoid fashion, perhaps even allow him, when properly attired, as is Mr. Ennis, to run for the second highest office in the land.)
“Exactly!” replied Mr. na Gopaleen. “Upon incineration, known also to the undiscerning as cremation, the nerves have been destroyed—a situation that prevents even the slightest symptoms of what was formerly known as neurosis, in the Freudian and, indeed, the post-Freudian, world of thought.”
“Burnt to a crisp,” observed Mr. Ennis.
“Which allows you to run for president without a helluva lot of baggage,” observed Mr. Slack IV facetiously.
“I’m too young to die,” inserted Ms. Mews, age 62. “I figure I’ve got maybe 30 years left, if I play my cards right.”
“My point,” replied Mr. na Gopaleen, who is known as Gop behind his back, and he cleared his throat in preparation for the body of his oncoming lecture, “My point is that so-called ‘neurosis’ is no longer a condition to which flesh is heir. Psychotherapy,” he continued, “is a dying art. It has been replaced by medicine. The implication of this profound change is that the word ‘neurosis’ and its cognates are swiftly disappearing from the common lexicon.”
He looked around at the robots and living persons that were gathered about the Round Table of the Hôtel Adobe.
“I predict,” he said, casting his eye on Ms. la Musa, “that should you continue living for the additional three decades for which you are planning, then [triumphantly] you will be the last neurotic!”
And so, his oration suddenly and unexpectedly at an end, he lifted the mug of stout before him and raised it [Ed. note: other authorities say “lifted it.”] to his loquacious lips. “Good God!” muttered Thalia Mews from the left side of her mouth.
“I used to be a neurotic,” offered Ab Ennis, hopeful candidate for president under the banner of the Dead Rights Party.
“That was pre-ash,” wisely observed Orville Slack IV, who knew whereof he spoke.
“Let’s take a break,” I suggested.
And we did.
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