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Subject:
From:
Carlo Curley <[log in to unmask]>
Reply To:
Carlo Curley <[log in to unmask]>
Date:
Sat, 4 Jan 1997 17:21:58 EST
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Dear Organ Manipulators and Fur Ball Aficionados Everywhere,
 
From the great clutch of seasonal cards received at The Abbey of the Mauve
Thought during December, one in particular stands out in memory and I'd like to
share its cheerful contents with you.
 
I was pleased to make the acquaintance of American organ-builder Charles
Hendrickson during the ISO festivities last summer and happy to receive his
Yuletide greetings which arrived in the form of a neatly typed newsletter
entitled 'THE CAT ORGAN'. My affection for ever-independent felines (the more
ordinary and street-smart the better) is widely known, so what particularly
caught my eye was the drawing of this unusual instrument (with homage obviously
due Messrs. Python & Co) - a single manual affair, the keys directly linked by
none other than ever-heralded suspended action to the delicate posterior
mechanisms of seven cats of similar size imprisoned in a row of little cages,
each with fight-savaged ears laid back ready for sounding the Jericho wail of
battle (if not doing so already). Honestly, I was initially  pained by such
highly intelligent, superior creatures being held in bondage for a questionable
end but quickly gathered it was all in jest. Or was it?
 
From left to right we have as the first number in our rank, Tobias Q.
Cat(astrophic), a handsomely contemplative yet surly student of pulchritude,
standing at rapt attention, anxious to serve, gazing blissfully into the
distance as though experiencing PIPORG-L, its guidelines and a decent single
malt for the first time (these days, it would seem one needs a hefty splash of
the latter to endure the former) . . . . .
 
Number two, Horatio Hottentot, depicts the embodiment of insolence (and
obviously loathes being called into lyrical servitude) - - a back-alley warrior
of repute, his glistening silver/grey coat is highlighted by generous lashings
of jet black - - scalpel-sharp incisors and claws primed for the inflicting of
maximum damage to any opponent who dares offer a challenge, this meowmeister
appears to be in full ripe sing-song as indeed his boxwood key is being
depressed by a Victorian ladies slender finger - OUCH! . . . . .
 
Number three, Brian-o, is a charmingly marked black and white number - - good
with children, I bet - - a bit more stylish than his other partners in musical
crime - - the twinkle in the eye indicates a possible smattering of university
education . . and a virtuosic pot-stirrer to boot - - all the same, this moggie
looks sadly contemplative and a bit worried about being situated so close to the
middle of the keyboard (all that use, y'know), almost driving me to the electric
telephone to give the RSPCA a charitable jingle . . . . .
 
Number four's gob is belting forth a hapless screech - - while regal in stature
and intoxicated by leadership, those terrible, glowing Byzantine eyes oozing
triple-distilled hatred are the stuff nightmares (and exceptional mousers and
Organ Mafiosi) are made of - - surely he's just clapped eyes on an Ulster Fry -
- I've named him Herod . . . . .
 
Number five, Tomaso-Carloni, is broad-of-beam, relaxed, eyes clamped shut
dreaming of great dollops of thick single cream and praying for the discovery of
stress-reducing electro-pneumatic action - - here is a member of our octavo
chorus-of-slaves who has obviously manipulated listlessness into a gentle and
pleasant art form - - a gem of a puss in awe of the overall bizarreness of life
. . . . .
 
Number six, Samson, is a contemptuous lad - obviously a control puss of the
first order - a real howler and daughter of the pavements (DOP) of questionable
gender, all decked out with heaps of attitude and nowhere to go - can it be that
his nose, ears and tail are pierced? The drawing is a tad blurred in those
areas. Here is a golden example of a true-blue mattoid in four-legged form.
Surely he is the slatternly shop steward of this farcical ensemble  . . . . .
 
And, finally, number seven, Timmy, who really takes the fruit-cake, bing
cherries and all. This obedient bit of fluff is staring directly into 'camera'
with a heart-wrenching, know-it-all wisfulness, mouth turned down ever so
slightly - - well groomed and happy for being involved in any capacity in the
entertainment industry, this poor demure love appears as though it just devoured
both a black and white pudding in the same feeding frenzy with ensuing,
predictable digestive results. Written all over that tiny face is the plea: "Can
somebody bring me a bottle of Tums and a stack of rag-tag organ periodicals to
help cure what ails me?"
 
</>|<\>|</>|<\>|</>|<\>
 
With apologies to my capable Macungie friends of long standing, there follows
now the charming explanation of THE CAT ORGAN by C. Hendrickson, Esquire:
 
"Since the 1930s, attempts have been made to duplicate the inimitable sound of
the pipe organ. These imitations have proliferated over the years, but who would
have guessed that an imitation of the imitations would eventually appear? Yep,
the Cat Organ has finally done it; a faithful copy of the copiers. A true copy
cat. No MIDI or other gadgets, just pure 100% natural sound from vocal chords; a
real 'Chord Organ'.
 
In exhaustive tests, trained musicians were unable to detect any tonal
differences between the Cat Organ and its imitative non-pipe predecessors. It
consumes no electricity, but requires frequent cleaning of the interior and
replacement of the tone generators. The model shown above uses males because of
the particular style of the patented clamp which connects the unfortunate Toms
to the instrument. A female version is under development in order to balance the
effect on the cat population and overcome the objections of certain powerful
special-interest groups. Please note that European breeds may be difficult to
tune above A-435, and only calm, passive animals can be tuned in all
temperaments. Be advised that Federal Child Labor laws strictly prohibit any
kittens-on-the-keys.
 
It is suggested that audiences not be informed as to the exact method whereby
the pressing of a key persuades a cat to produce the necessary sound. This is a
touch-sensitive instrument and this is a family-oriented card.
 
Though complete voicing is done at the factory, all subsequent replacements and
adjustments are the owner's responsibility.
 
They laughed when I sat down to play, but they covered their ears when hearing
the new Cat Organ. The seven deadly sins are symbolized by the seven cats during
their seven musical lives. Nine-lived replacements are available at extra cost.
 
The Cat Organ does have the unfortunate side-effect of bringing out the worse
musical punmanship in performers. The D-minor TocCATa is just one of the many
embarrassments.
 
The instrument comes with instructions, a list of veterinarians and hearing-aid
dealers, tweezers, a pair of rubber gloves, and a box of opaque-black seal-tight
plastic bags. Look for it at your favorite music store next to the display of
old-style Violin strings and Kitty Litter. Also available - donation forms from
the All Natural String Instrument Supply Association.
 
Be advised that OSHA has issued a warning concerning the necessity of wearing
ear protection during operation of the device. Acoustical equipment is available
for preventing hearing loss/deafness. Though intended as a strictly melodic
instrument, it may be used harmonically but only in the largest concert halls or
in remote outdoor locations.
 
Need to accompany a Morris Dance? Is your keyboard on the Fritz? Do you have the
guts to try the latest fad? Do you want to do something about the excess cat
population? Then try the Cat Organ, and put an end to your musical career.
 
For those of you unimpressed by the Cat Organ or other imitators, real pipe
organs are available for true musical pleasure. Write or call for a free
CATalog.
 
With apologies to cat lovers everywhere . . . . ."     et cetera
 
Here blessedly endeth the description of The Cat Organ. Go in peace and serve
whom you please.
 
Cheers!
 
Olracaphone Unlimited
 
P.S. - - As W. H. Auden mused in 1963:
 
It takes little talent to see clearly what lies under one's nose, a good deal of
it to know in which direction to point that (cat) organ.
 
P.P.S. - - One wonders how many serious enquiries Charles has received since
this extraordinary mailing was sent? ;) ;) CC

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