Originally Posted by
Gilliatt Gurgle
"...Sitting in a dark corner was an old man with the appearance of an inebriated shaman. Following introductions with the boys at the bar, I inquired about the old man.
“Why that’s ole Jack Russell the “Terrier” he’s older than the hills”.
“Hell Billy, we ain’t got no hills round here.”
“Well he’s older than dirt anyway, and a smidgeon wiser ‘an Aristotle even with one arm tied behind his back!”
“Especially when it comes to eighteenth century classical music”, interjected one ginner.
“The Terrier taught us all bout that classical music stuff, specially bout that Motes Art feller from Australia.” “That’s Austria you dim wit” This was followed by another shot of Marillenschnaps and a round of back slapping and guffaws.
At this point the Terrier made a grumbling sound which brought an immediate, respectful silence throughout the bar. The shaman stood and began to shuffle toward me wiping a dribble of Schnapps from the corner of his mouth. Being new to these parts, I naturally grew tense. Perhaps he is coming to exorcize the intoxicating spirits from my mind?
“Cityslicker, I see you come for a truck load of our most prized commodity, but there is something I’ll share with you that is far more precious than fire Frisbees”
The dung loader popped his head into the bar to let me know the chips were about ankle deep in my truck; “jes wunderin if I should keep shovelin in more BS”.
“Yes, yes; let’s keep piling it on.”
Annoyed at the interruption, the Terrier continued: “City slicker, are you familiar with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart?
“Yes, to some degree and please, you may call me Gilliatt.”
“As you wish Gilliatt, do you believe that Mozart authored all of the wonderful compositions generally attributed to the creative juices of his own mind?”
“Well, yes, that’s what I been told and taught”
“Ah ha! You see fellas? He says: that’s what I’ve been told and taught”
“A typical response from an unenlightened, city slicked mind. Well let me enlighten you my friend. Mozart couldn’t compose his way out of a paper bag! He was a sham, a lackey made famous by the plagiarizing of music born right here on the high plains surrounding Dumas.”...
...“SILENCE! Silence! you numb skulls why do you continue to espouse these confounded theories; It was the Franciscan’s, no it was the Jesuits and God only knows why, but Dusty over there believes Mozart’s notoriety was propagated by a sect of underground New Age Templar Knights. And you Rowdy, why do you insist that Mozart was capable of composing his own music?”
“D--n it all, how many times have I told you Francisco Vázquez de Coronado was the genius, the ghost writer if you will, behind Mozart’s success? Remember it was Coronado who, during that futile search for Cibola, first heard and recorded the wonderful melodious music emanating from the limitless ocean of sage and yucca that lay before him on this very spot. It was a cold winter night in 1541, a blue norther with a full head of steam was bearing down on Coronado and his men as they lay drunk and entangled in the sage following a night of debauchery. Soon a stiff cold wind was passing across the leaves of the sage, grasses and yucca creating the most wonderful music to the ears of the nauseous conquistadors. Coronado immediately put quill to paper and transposed the notes, sharps, flats, rests, staccatos, etc. He was a man possessed, feverishly documenting the wind born sonatas, concerto’s, operas and requiems. Coronado’s music eventually found its way back to Salzburg Austria, falling into the hands of Johann van Beethoven. It was Johann, who had a proclivity toward manufacturing great composers (such as is own son) that took interest in a young street urchin named Mozart. Johann had Mozart copy Coronado’s music so it would appear as though it came from his own hand and the rest, as they say, is history!”..."
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