Running Amok

Running Amok

Egads and Little Fishes1 Recently, I was accused of "Running Amok." Okay, perhaps I was acting a little bit odd. I was under a lot of pressure to complete something in my personal life: however, I didn't think I was running amok: "Berserk," maybe?

The Berserks were a late Viking group which was in the habit of working themselves up into a frenzy before going into battle, throwing down their weapons and ripping off their shirts ("Ber"= without, and "serk" = shirt) when they charged the enemy. That scared the hell out of their foes. So, when someone tells you that so and so went berserk, the operative question should be: "Did he rip off his shirt?").

However, to be absolutely sure, I ran over to my Websters. It defined "Running Amok," as flying about in a murderous rage. Nope, that wasn't the case at all. Satisfied that I had been socially misdiagnosed, I was ready to close the dictionary when, as is my wont, I continued to read the etymology.

Yiiiiii, it happened again.

The dictionary was absolutely, and unapologetically, wrong. It attributed the phrase to Malay: Any dummy who has read the "Travels of Marco Polo," knows that the term is from India. In fact it is a Sanskrit word with, generally, the same meaning, but, as M. Polo pointed out, with a completely different and interesting twist, which I intend to get into, later. To make this as painless as possible, let me point out that the Malays acquired the term from the Indians with whom they were, from a very early period, involved in commercial trade: and, we got it from the Portuguese who traded with both of them.

I'm accustomed to accepting from those very erudite scholarly-boards, which lend expertise to smart and sundry lexicons, sometimes misleading clues to word origins, albeit, from ignorance or arrogance. They sit back on their scholarly laurels in similarly well-appointed research rooms with comfortable chairs, long tables, antique lamps, no telephones, maybe a computer terminal in some discreet corner but best of all, they have, at their disposal, tons and tons of old MSS. and lexicons (Do I sound jealous? Well, yes I am.). So why can't they do a better job?

Something, my friends, stinks in those well-appointed reading rooms. (I can hear the ghost of the venerable, however unhygienic, Dr. Johnson, protesting the misuse of an intransitive verb by a woman with whom he was sharing a carriage and who had criticized his strong odor by saying that he "smelled.": "'Smell' Madam? I STINK! You smell.")

In the "CompleteYule-Cordier's Edition of 'The Travels of Marco Polo'" Vol. II, p. 347 and footnote #5, M. Polo and Y & C. talk about the Amuki of Malabar, India, who, "were bound not only to defend the king's life with their own, but, if he fell, to sacrifice themselves by dashing among the enemy and slaying until slain." Compare that with the Sanskrit, "Amokhya; Indissoluble" or "Amukta: not free bound." Satisfied, at least about the origins of the term?

Speaking of Running Amok, I saw my first American film the other day on video. I was so unnerved by the amount of nonsense that passes for historical accuracy that I vowed not to see another Classic for the next five years.

However, did someone say "trash?" I understand that the film "Troy," is out on tape. When I have the stomach for it, I'll hook up the VCR and take a peak. There's no hurry. The longer it sits in the Video stores, the cheaper it gets,. Anyway, I know the story and I know how it ends. Timeo Danaos et donas gerentis.

Unlike the Amuki, Alexander the Great's personal bodyguards, the Companions, were not expected to die with him. They were called the "Companions" because they were with Alex 24/7. They ate (cum + pan = 'with bread") with him, partied with him, slept (errr) with him and stayed next to him in battle, but, as I said, were not expected to follow him into Paradise

I read a review of "Troy" as I was spreading out some old newspaper to do a little bit of painting. It said that Scholars (who ever they are) were in agreement that the film fulfills the Poet's vision. I would say anything for money, too. Wherefore not? Alas and Alack, no one made me an offer like that..

"Sing Goddess the wrath of Peleus' son Achilleus and its devastation...."

Frankly, with product placement becoming increasingly more important to the movie business because of the anemic return in ticket sales, I wouldn't be surprised to see the Nike swoosh (is that how it is spelt?) on Achilleus' headband, or the Gucci label on his sandals.As far as kids are concerned (kids of all ages), Nike and Gucci may have been around in 1225 B.C. Now, wouldn't that have been nice?

I really meant "nice" in its original meaning. "Nice," of course, means "stupid" as I have noted, before. We still use it when someone drops a cup of coffee on our brand new clothes at a party: "Nice going!" I have two editions of "Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary," printed a decade apart. In the oldest Edition, it carries that meaning. In the more recent, it does not. Sigh, who makes these decisions?

Speaking of Troy: It was reported a few years, back, that the fabled and nearly forgotten Treasure of Troy, did not get melted down for gold during World War II as many art historians had feared, but ended up in St. Petersburg's, Hermitage, for "safekeeping." That fact doesn't surprise me one twit. Most of the art, books and historical treasures of eastern Europe ended up in Russia for the same reason, "safekeeping."

You can't tell me that history is not entertaining by itself. Think of recent history. What if Hollyweed decided to make a movie of former President Clinton, would it be more entertaining if the Pizza delivery girl, (whatshername?), was really a pizza delivery rent-boy named Mike and instead of a black dress it was a pair of torn black Levis? Would that make the movie more entertaining than the real thing?

We are used to movies running amok with the truth because, from an early age, we are fed that kind of stew. George Washington was a great man for many reasons. The Constitution, after all was his idea, not Madison's or Jefferson's. But did he really chop down his father's cherry tree and then say, "Father, I can not tell a lie, I chopped down your cherry tree"?

Well, let's investigate: how old was George when this incident took place? Cherry is hard wood. So, he didn't do it (at least not alone) when he was a toddler. Maybe, he did it when he was a teenager and was testing out his brand new birthday present, a dropped-forge ax not-made in China, on his father's cherry sapling and he was caught red-handed with the ax in his hand. That, I believe. "Yo' Dad, I'm sorry you busted me, but this new ax is so neat, I really couldn't wait to try it out and Mama has been complaining, for a long time, over dinner, how this tree would one day block her view of the Potomac and the White House which will, one day, be the home of the President of the United States when there is a United States and whose first occupant will be that sniveling corrupt neo-renaissance teenage delinquent who lives nearby. What's his name, Tommy Jefferson?"

In journalism, is "Piping," the same as running amok with the truth? Within the profession, are editors more responsible than reporters for maintaining a moral balance; that is, being truthful? Something else for me to think about.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an American movie, but I understand that Alexander Stone made a new movie, "Oliver The Great." I can't wait. Really. No Really
Szia, From Budapest