| THE LORELEI SIGNAL |
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| Written by Elizabeth Barrette / Artwork by Holly Eddy |
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| Pvaga and the Censor |
One day Pvaga, goddess of free expression, sat by the street playing her stringbox and singing a rude song. Along came a
man whose business it was to tell creative people what they ought not to do. He stepped up to the goddess and said with
great disapproval, “Stop singing that! It is wicked to make fun of people in power. You will surely be punished.”
“You don’t like my song?” the goddess asked in an ominous tone.
“No, I don’t,” the man said.
“Then I will not burden you with it further,” Pvaga said, and she struck him deaf. Next she pulled out a painting from her
robe and showed it to him.
“How awful!” exclaimed the man, rather loudly now because he could no longer hear himself speak. “You depict those
barbarians at their uncouth rites as glowingly as if they worshipped in the Proper Church! You will surely be punished.”
“You don’t like my picture?” the goddess asked, very clearly so he could read her lips.
“No, I don’t,” the man said.
“Then I will not burden you with it further,” Pvaga said, and she struck him blind.
Finally she produced a statuette of two people copulating and gave it to him.
He groped his way around the elegant curves and shouted in disgust, “How dare you hand me this filthy thing?! You must
not portray such things as go on behind closed curtains. You will _surely_ be punished!”
“You don’t like my sculpture?” the goddess asked, placing her words directly in his mind.
“No, I don’t,” the man said.
“Then I will not burden you with it further,” Pvaga said, and she struck off his hands with the Sword of Truth. “Now do
not bother me or my followers any more, or you will surely be punished...again!” Then she took the censor by the
shoulders, turned him around, and propelled him back into the street with a swift kick in the butt.
Meanwhile, a small crowd had gathered. “Let me tell you a story,” the goddess said, and she began to recite the tale you
have just heard. Because he was deaf, the censor could not hear her; because he was blind, he could not see her; and
because he was handless, he could not stop her. So Pvaga went about her duties in peace, and the censor learned if you
abuse the good senses you have been given, someone may take them away from you.
man whose business it was to tell creative people what they ought not to do. He stepped up to the goddess and said with
great disapproval, “Stop singing that! It is wicked to make fun of people in power. You will surely be punished.”
“You don’t like my song?” the goddess asked in an ominous tone.
“No, I don’t,” the man said.
“Then I will not burden you with it further,” Pvaga said, and she struck him deaf. Next she pulled out a painting from her
robe and showed it to him.
“How awful!” exclaimed the man, rather loudly now because he could no longer hear himself speak. “You depict those
barbarians at their uncouth rites as glowingly as if they worshipped in the Proper Church! You will surely be punished.”
“You don’t like my picture?” the goddess asked, very clearly so he could read her lips.
“No, I don’t,” the man said.
“Then I will not burden you with it further,” Pvaga said, and she struck him blind.
Finally she produced a statuette of two people copulating and gave it to him.
He groped his way around the elegant curves and shouted in disgust, “How dare you hand me this filthy thing?! You must
not portray such things as go on behind closed curtains. You will _surely_ be punished!”
“You don’t like my sculpture?” the goddess asked, placing her words directly in his mind.
“No, I don’t,” the man said.
“Then I will not burden you with it further,” Pvaga said, and she struck off his hands with the Sword of Truth. “Now do
not bother me or my followers any more, or you will surely be punished...again!” Then she took the censor by the
shoulders, turned him around, and propelled him back into the street with a swift kick in the butt.
Meanwhile, a small crowd had gathered. “Let me tell you a story,” the goddess said, and she began to recite the tale you
have just heard. Because he was deaf, the censor could not hear her; because he was blind, he could not see her; and
because he was handless, he could not stop her. So Pvaga went about her duties in peace, and the censor learned if you
abuse the good senses you have been given, someone may take them away from you.
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