God Armour

In his book, Letters from the Earth – published posthumously, Mark Twain makes a pretty unique observation (Letter X):

“…..Some Midianite must have repeated Onan's act, and brought that dire disaster upon his nation. If that was not the indelicacy that outraged the feelings of the Deity, then I know what it was: some Midianite had been pissing against the wall. I am sure of it, for that was an impropriety which the Source of all Etiquette never could stand.

A person could piss against a tree, he could piss on his mother, he could piss on his own breeches, and get off, but he must not piss against the wall -- that would be going quite too far. The origin of the divine prejudice against this humble crime is not stated; but we know that the prejudice was very strong -- so strong that nothing but a wholesale massacre of the people inhabiting the region where the wall was defiled could satisfy the Deity.

Take the case of Jeroboam. "I will cut off from Jeroboam him that pisseth against the wall." It was done. And not only was the man that did it cut off, but everybody else.

The same with the house of Baasha: everybody was exterminated, kinsfolks, friends, and all, leaving "not one that pisseth against a wall."

In the case of Jeroboam you have a striking instance of the Deity's custom of not limiting his punishments to the guilty; the innocent are included. Even the "remnant" of that unhappy house was removed, even "as a man taketh away dung, till it be all gone."

That includes the women, the young maids, and the little girls. All innocent, for they couldn't piss against a wall. Nobody of that sex can. None but members of the other sex can achieve that feat.

A curious prejudice. And it still exists. Protestant parents still keep the Bible handy in the house, so that the children can study it, and one of the first things the little boys and girls learn is to be righteous and holy and not piss against the wall…..”

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I once happened to go to the city corporation office to pick up tender papers. I was asked to wait in the “Complaints Hall” – a huge cavernous, semi-dark place with rows of wooden benches polished to perfection through constant use, a few rickety fans turning lazily overhead, and a man – the officer – sitting in the farthest and darkest corner of the place, taking complaints from the row upon row of people.

Every time a complainant filed his complaint and moved out, all the people on the benches moved one slot closer to the officer.  A naturally-occurring pantomime, given the peoples’ anxiety to lodge complaints. It was more synchronized than the “waves” at a football stadium.

I had to participate with the crowd, although I had no complaints; I was there for a different purpose. By the second row I was within earshot of the conversations going on; I could hear the complaints being made.

One fellow complained about “no water”. “OK” said the officer, “we’ll send you a tanker, just go to the next room and write down the address.” The fellow from the next room shouted that all tankers were out and it would be late afternoon before they could take any more orders. “Never mind”, said the guy.

The next guy complained about his drain being clogged and the drain water spreading all over the place. That was noted. It went on for a few more fellows each with a fairly unique set of problems.

Then came this irate chap. He was so angry that the veins stood out on his forehead. Like spaghetti. It seems he was the owner of a corner plot in a densely populated part of the city, and his boundary wall had crashed because every passer-by found time to pee on that wall. The resulting stink made his days and nights unbearable, his life unacceptable and as he complained, his boundary wall untenable. He wanted the city corporation to do two things; one re-build the boundary wall for him, and build a public toilet somewhere close by.

I do not know how that complaint was settled but thirty or more years later, we still have an acute shortage of public toilets, with the result that people (read men) still pee on the nearest available wall as and when nature demands it.

This has caused the Prime Minister of the country to impose a tax on the entire publicly non-peeing population, with the avowed intention of building public toilets all over the place. But how does one protect one’s walls in the meantime, particularly in a country where the God of the Bible described above is not very active ?

Innovations abound…. People who have boundary walls, particularly the ones with corner plots, have installed porcelain tiles with pictures of different local gods  at a height of about two feet off the ground, along the entire length.

God armour !!

Ever since gods were invented to take care of humanity’s aspirations, failings, desires and food, they have come a long way.  OK – the gods these days are not as vindictive as the one described above, but they still manage to do the job, by just being present on the wall.

Or do they ? The other day, I saw one fellow squatting… 

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