Titans

November 7, 2007

 

In the white room of the great Olympus, Zeus sits on his throne. The Alpha god, also known as “head honcho,” “the boss,” “Alpha dog,” or “owner of the butt that minions stitch their lips on for that eternal butt-kissing (OOB),” plays with his Tag Heuer platinum watch.

Everybody in Olympus is afraid of him as much as they respect him. I work in small room seven kilometers from the pantheon. Mostly churning out ideas and press releases just so the mortals and the lesser gods (There’s so many of us in this category, you know, how do you think OOB came about?) how great Zeus is. Oh, you don’t think the Olympus read the news? Hah! Just proves the point that you mortals should stick to what you know, fornicating your heathen lives off. 

Anyway, sometimes Zeus comes over to visit but he rarely sees us and I don’t blame him really, being that he’s huge and all.  Standing erect, my head barely reach his thighs. With heels on… uhmm, not that I use heels or anything, you know.

About two minutes ago, Mercury told us in a booming voice that Zeus was summoning us to his chamber. I walked out and immediately noticed his silly, silly shoes. I mean, Common! Shoes with wings? I heard Leonardo da Vinci predicted that someday wings would be a regular staple of women’s hygiene and I laughed at that one. Sometimes I don’t know if Leonardo’s effeminate tendencies had the better of him. But then I made no comment because Mercury has always been sensitive about the topic. I heard that he threw a fit after the gods voted to make him wear one as a representation of his task as the messenger.

Well, they should at least have given him a horse and carriage.

As I enter the room, I see the minute hand of Zeus’ watch turning clockwise and counterclockwise, its atomic system threatening to tear apart from the bolts of electricity that emanated from the god’s right pointer finger.

This is not the first time I entered the sanctum sanctorum but when the ruler of the heavens summons you to his chamber, your luck could swing both ways. Judging by his scowl, however, I think I know my luck ain’t worth shit. Can you smell what I’m stepping?

The room is quite Spartan. To his right, at the corner of the room next to the loo is a photograph of the family. Zeus was at the center with his wife Hera, next to them stood Zeus’ brothers, Poseidon and Hades. Always the prankster, Hades had two of his fingers in a peace sign behind Hera’s head to make it appear that she has the devil’s horns.

Beneath his feet, I saw a woman’s tunic. I wonder who the poor maiden is this time. It’s common knowledge that Zeus loves to assume human or animal form in order to copulate with pretty mortals. I never could understand all that subterfuge. For, uh, god’s sake, he’s the Alpha god! Can you spell omnipotence?

Without preliminaries, Zeus handed me page 8 of yesterday’s issue of the “Olympus Times” where Hades runs a daily column titled “Fire down below.” Generally his topic ranges from tourism (The Seven Gates of Hell); satires (Who’s afraid of Virginia’s hoof?) social commentaries (Paradise Lost); politics (Democratic space in the Underworld, Not!) to downright spiteful (Dante’s Infernal Hemorrhoids).

Normally, I’m there to change what Hades writes because of my job description as the gatekeeper.  And yes, I do close the gates of my office most of the time but that was not what I was driving at.

After browsing through what Hades wrote in his column yesterday, I knew it wasn’t the one I allowed to be published. Tsk! He’s not without his powers, after all and I don’t put it past him to use those powers to have his way.

And Hades had the bright idea to take on the Titans.

Hades claimed that Cronus, son of Uranus, has been selling used tunics at bargain prices at Olympus without asking permission from Zeus; supplying Dionysus with forbidden elixirs; inciting the lesser gods to overthrow Zeus from the throne, and most of all, attempting to release Prometheus from the mountain where Zeus shackled him. 

Here’s the thing, no matter how powerful Zeus is, I think he’s always been afraid of the Titans, especially Uranus and Cronus. Those two Titans have a long love-hate relationship and their dislike for each other is only supplanted by their attraction for power which, in this, case has been questioned by Hades.

Sure, after the epic battle that has come to be known as the “War of the Titans,” which the Olympus Times had exclusive coverage by the way, the Titans were banished to Tartarus but they still wield enormous powers. I read some mortal’s account that the Titans are so huge their heads touched the clouds and I could understand that description after seeing with my own eyes how freakishly colossal they were. Well, that mortal’s description only holds true if we have to forget the fact that we, as gods, are standing on clouds so the Titans are not so tall by that measure because their heads only reach up to the soles of our feet. Hahaha!

Shit, I almost forgot that Zeus could read minds. Okay, think happy thoughts — Aphrodite bending with her frocks showing… Hera’s cleavage… Man, I gotta stop thinking of sex. Not now, not with HIS wife and daughter. Please!

“Did you see?” I heard Zeus’ voice ask through the din of my own screaming thoughts.

(What? Aphrodite’s frocks, Hera’s cleavage?)

“Uh, pardon sir?”

“Did you see Hades’ column?”

“No sir. This wasn’t the column that I published yesterday. The column was supposed to be about the benefits of the sweet Ambrosia,” I said.

I heard him curse under his breath.

“Uranus always said that we could all criticize him but never touch his children and here comes Hades doing what Uranus particularly warned against,” Zeus told me.

“I know sir. That’s my fault, too. I should have been there to make sure he didn’t change his column at the last minute.”

“No, but we do have to make some damage control,” he said, his beard twirling to the vibrations of his racing thoughts.

“How do we do that, sir?”

“You have to travel to Tartarus to interview Cronus and make him look good in your next headline. Make a positive spin out of this,” he said.

“Sir, I really don’t want to go to Tartarus. That place is too scary, the plants there are bigger than my office and they eat people,” I protested.

“Take Pegasus with you, so you won’t have to travel on foot and you could just fly over the carnivorous plants.”

“Uh, sir… What about the flying Gargoyles that rule Tartarus’ skies?”

“Figure it out! I can’t be solving all your problems for you. Think of this as saving Olympus itself,” he barked.

Zeus turned his swivel chair around. After staring at the back of his head for 20 seconds and eliciting no reactions, I walked out and gently closed the door. I remember how impressive Zeus was in the War of the Titans (which was covered exclusively by the Olympus Times by the way), and I couldn't help but mutter:

“Isn’t it Zeus’ job to save Olympus?”

Suddenly my joke about the Titans wasn’t as funny anymore.