Ultracrepidarian -

Part of Speech: Adjective, Noun

Meaning: 1. [Adjective] Talking about things beyond the scope of one's knowledge.

2. [Noun] Someone who talks about things of which they know little or nothing.

The story goes that when the famous Greek painter Apellis made a full-body painting of Alexander the Great and showed it to the audience, a shoemaker approached him and made some comments about the rendering of the sandals of the great warrior. The painter promptly acknowledged the error and with a stroke of his brush corrected it. But after a while the same man started to comment about the robe of Alexander and the painter cut him short by saying, "Stick to the sandals, my valuable friend".

The sun was shining bright in the heavens (Apollo was high as a kite). It burned solidly, not a cloud around, courtesy of Persephone returning to Olympus, she and Hades' parting eased by a night of their own brand of festivities - as funky as a pair could get in the land of the dead - and Demeter buying her daughter a new spring dress. The day was just lovely, and even vile warlords paused in their executions and takeovers to take in the morning. Discord was miserable.

This beautiful, sunny morning, the citizens of Nameless Greek City Number 452 woke up to the music of hoarse shouts and battering rams. Toddlers fell from their beds, potters setting up for market watched their wares slip to the ground and shatter from the pounding, and the mayor elect paced his villa hallway literally tearing his hair out trying to figure out why they could be under attack. It came to him passing by the local Priest of Discord who was drowning this new sorrow in a tankard of ale and its cousin the Ridiculously Massive Ham Sandwich.

"What are you doing, Vlad?!"

"What? This? Uh...breakfast?"

"That's Tuesday's sacrifice!"

"Well...uhhhh...Wow. So it is."

Across town, beyond the battlements, in the lavish raven black tent to the rear lines of the Goddess of Dissention's army, which was waiting impatiently outside, arrows flying in a fierce sheet of sharp death to match the city guards' own rapid fire, sat the dark goddess herself. Seated on a thrown lined in skulls and black shell "borrowed" from Hades in the Fourth Age...

"Ow! Where'd my easy chair go? Shades? Sisyphus, stop pushing that rock and find my...Ooooh, that's gonna leave a mark. Sorry...ya know...about the boulder crushing your skull. Well...er...Where's my chair?!"

...Discord tapped a lethal set of nails, humming to her own impatience. Her blood boiled with frustration. Five of her best men - a sketchy, dirty lot - entered the tent, trying hard to appear calm while shaking with icy fear inside. Discord was not known for her mercy.

"I thought I told you numbskulls I wanted that settlement taken by mid-morning. It's already brunch and where are the villagers kissing my feet, huh?" The warriors jumped at her bark. Soldiers on the city battlements could hear the goddess as though she were shouting in their ears. "Not a drop of blood has even been spilled yet." She stood up, a menacing tower of five and a half feet. "I'm working with AMATEURS!!!"

One man stepped forward at the others' harsh glares. "But Mistress..."

Stepping forward with each emphasis, Discord barked, "Don't you 'but Mistress' me, chamber pot for brains! I'm calling the shots here, and I asked, no, DEMANDED that city be occupied by midmorning, and it's NOON! NOON!!"

Legs shaking, the warrior ventured, "A...a...actually, it's just about eleven..."

The goddess shot back a last piercing glare, turned on her heel and walked back to the throne. "I won't hear any more of your pitiful excuses." She crossed her legs and examined a fingernail. "I sentence you all to death."

"A...a...all of us, Mistress?" The men who were silent were now looking around at their comrades, eyes wide with fright and resentment.

"YES." Ugh, what a slow lot. "Now go fall on your swords. No, I've got a better idea. Fight each other to the death, and the last standing gets the honor of kissing my blade."

No one moved.

"I haven't got all day! Chop, chop!"

Discord scowled at the men, who instead of killing were nudging elbows, mumbling, and pointing to the far corner of the tent. She felt a presence behind her, and it wasn't human.

"Is that reeeeeally such a smooth idea, Di?"

Leaning back in her chair she mimed checking an imaginary guest list. "Hmm, let me see here. Ah...nope, nope. Nobody invited you to this battle, Strife."

The figure emerged from the shadows and the men muffled chuckles and tried to look serious, which was impossible. Rumors floated around the goddess' camps whenever the stranger appeared. Rumors Discord never much cared for due to their nature. So she tried to cut his appearances down to a minimum by banning him on threat of castration. It worked until Strife realized she liked him too much to follow through. He often gloated about this unspoken fact.

"Oh, come on, Di! Yer talkin' like it's the Ritz or somethin'." He turned to the five warriors. "Hey, boys, wait just a sec while I sud up yer 'mistress' here."

The men hid lewd grins and Discord's eyes shot open in anger. "No one smooth-talks the Goddess of Dissention!"

Strife tilted his head and smirked. "Not even Ares?"

Yeah, Discord said nobody had a hold over her but that wasn't true at all. Since the beginning of time she'd pined for Ares and since the beginning of time he'd used this to his advantage. Still glaring at the out-of-line godling, Discord's hand shot out, pointing to the door.

"Men! Leave us!"

The warriors rushed out and Strife followed them to the door. Looking out the open tent flap, he watched the men clamor into a bustle of activity. In the distance he could make out a team fruitlessly trying to take the wall and in the foreground, the five best men gathered in a group together to drill, all the while shouting their goddess' name. Strife giggled.

"Heh heh heh heh, they follow you like lost puppies."

Impatient to get him gone, Discord snapped, "Spit it out, Strife. I haven't got all day."

Thinking about the failing siege, he casually shot back," Yeah ya do, Di."

Discord clenched her fists. "Don't call me that."

Strife shot her a fetching smile. "Certainly, Di." He wandered around the tent, touching weapons and picking up trinkets just to annoy her. "Ain't Ares taught ya nothing? Ya can't storm in an' take a city like it's a cheeseburger."

Discord rolled her eyes. He never made any sense. Noticing her irritation, he sauntered over to her throne and fiddled with a piece of shell on the armrest, which broke off. He unceremoniously threw it over his shoulder. "Ya gotta work it a bit. Ease in, slow like. A good warrior's got a good strategy, knows when to move, when to strike, an' when to lay low, let the enemy take a turn, make em' think they got the advantage."

Discord snorted. "When did you get so smart?"

The mischief god leaned in close to her ear. "Ya ever made love, Di?"

She shoved him away and stood up. "Puleaze, don't even try, worm."

Strife hopped into the vacant seat and tried to emulate Ares, sitting catlike with one leg up on the armrest, but only managed to look ridiculous. Luckily, Discord wasn't watching. He continued, "A good fight's like a good roll in the hay. War and love ain't so far apart, ya know."

Discord turned around as Strife fumbled to find a comfortable position on the throne. She sneered. "First indication a man knows nothing is when he acts like he knows everything - on the battlefield or in the bed. I don't have time for this."

"Just givin' ya a bit of advice, is all."

She rolled her eyes again. "Like the school girl giving the streetwalker tips."

He tilted his head, searching her face for something. He laughed. "Starve 'em out. Works every time."

Discord walked over to stand in front of the throne. "Maybe that's not my goal."

Strife shrugged. "You said ya wanted the city. You can have the city on a silver platter if there ain't nobody to stop ya, 'specially if they're all dead."

She crossed her arms. "Maybe that's not the point of this exercise."

The men grunted and shouted outside. Screams could be heard coming from the city wall. Masculine screams from rocks falling on heads that Discord tried to ignore. Amateurs. She was working with amateurs.

"So war's a game to ya?"

Strife leaned back, his hands behind his head. This should be good, he thought. Discord paced in front of the throne, forcing herself to smile. She wasn't losing. Couldn't.

"I learned from the best, didn't I?"

Strife clucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Ares. Ah, Ares.

"Me too. So if ya lose, ya lose. Then again, if our great teacher lost, he'd throw fit that'd rumble Rome, and that's not even takin' it seriously."

Discord paused in her pacing to glare at the door to her tent. It was well known throughout the land that she took everything far too seriously.

"What's in it for you?"

She turned to face him again. "What do you mean?"

"Why ya want the city?"

Sighing, and seeing he wasn't going to leave any time soon after all, Discord replied, "If you must know, they paid allegiance to me once. After a while, they didn't think the sacrifices were worth it, and deserted me."

Strife sat up, throwing his hands in the air. "Then why dontcha find some other suckers? What's so special 'bout these guys?"

"It's the principle of the thing, Strife! You wouldn't understand."

"Why not?"

"You're too young."

The mischief god stood up. "Cronus' left nut, Di! I ain't ever gonna understand you if I live to be five thousand."

"When you live to be five thousand." Silly boy, didn't he know he was immortal? "And don't curse."

Strife walked over to Discord to glare at her. He stood a head above her, if not taller, much to the dismay of the petulant goddess.

"Gaia's tit and Nyx's cunt! I ain't so young, ya know."

"Then why don't you apply some of your 'wisdom' in an actual fight? You get out there and you freeze up like...like..."

"A deer in headlights? Is that how ya see me?"

"I don't understand you!"

"And I don't understand you. Just...go easy on those guys. They may be toads, but they're the...the axe to yer arm...or somethin'. Ya can't make every single henchman of yours jump in the river when his shoelaces come untied!"

Discord balled her hands into fists. She'd give him one more second, then BAM. Fist to the face.

"That's how I command respect, Strife."

He waved his arm at the door to the tent. "How are ya gonna conquer some city if ya got no one to conquer it with? Admit it, I got ya there."

The short goddess stormed across the tent, grabbing a map off the table and burning a hole in it with her eyes. "Aaaaauuugh, I can't stand you always interfering!"

"And I can't stand you never listening to me!"

Tossing the scorched map on the floor, Discord turned to point at the door. "Go whine to Ares. I don't need this."

"Fine!" Strife shouted.

"Fine!"

"I'm gone!"

He didn't move.

"Get going!"

Frowning considerably, he began to wave a hand in the air and depart. Discord wasn't watching. She was burning another map.

"Off like a prom dress!"

"I can still hear you."

"Uptight bitch!"

"Irritating virgin!"

"I heard that."

"Pfft."

Then there was no more. The goddess turned around. He was gone. She tried to smile victoriously, but her gut ached. Grabbing a fig and ferociously biting it, she considered what the unusual feeling could be.

"BOYS! GET IN HERE NOW!"

As the men from before scrambled into the tent, Discord tried to place a name with the feeling. Seeing them all assembled stirred it more.

"Have you come to a decision on the next course of action, Mistress?"

"Aren't we eloquent? Yes, scum. We're going to starve them out."

Oh, yes, it was the feeling of being wrong.

March/July 2003