The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest and the King of the Moon

Once upon a time, in a far away place -the moon let's say, was a King. The King was very Kingly in his Lunar Kingdom. He lorded himself over the dust and craters. He lorded himself over the very tides of the Earth. He was, however, constantly fearing that the inhabitants of Earth would challenge his rule of the moon in their jealousy over his Kingliness. The King then prohibited travel to the moon. He sealed off his Lunar Kingdom to keep himself and his subjects safe. All was well with the King until he realized that he had only one subject -his lunar dog.

This is not to say that his lunar dog was a poor subject. The dog was all affection and energy. He spent his days and nights plowing into drifts of lunar dust dancing in the unfiltered radiation of Sol, the tiny, moderately cool (as stars go) yellow star that gives Earth life. On especially energetic days, the lunar dog chased the line of dawn and dusk as it painted the moon. On Christmas the lunar dog would make sure everyone knew that flag jutting impolitely from the surface of the moon was his territory. Nevertheless, the King of the moon was lonely with his one subject.

Why not just reopen travel to the moon to solve his dilemma? One of The Conditions for Being King of the Moon was that no edict of his could be reversed. Being essentially human, he was quite incapable of creating new subjects (the lunar dog had been a happy accident, having originally been a small bit of dust and ice flying aimlessly through the cosmos -but that's another tale) and had condemned himself to be forever lonely. In his great loneliness, the King of the moon kissed the face of his Lunar Kingdom and so stamped it with his terrible loneliness that the face of the moon became terribly sad and lonely.

The face of the moon became so distressingly sad that the people of Earth forgot about the moon, in fact all things Lunar. Now, the moon didn't quit existing -it just got blocked out of everyone's mind. The tides still tided, the night still had light from it's reflection, and lunatics still acted loony. All written accounts of the moon were ignored, and even some lunar textbooks got burned in a lab accident when a technician, so averse to the terrible sadness of the face of the moon, thought they were quite safe to leave on a hotplate.

Some time later, a young woman from the Midwestern United States sat contemplating her place in the universe. This would not be so unusual except that this young woman happened to be The Moderately Attractive (As Princesses Go) Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things. Now you might wonder why she's only Moderately Attractive, or why that's even important -we'll get to that another time. How attractive? Fine. She's slightly less attractive than the love of your life when you haven't seen said love in three or four weeks and said love walks through your front door with lunch and a bottle of wine and a fair bit more attractive than your third-grade crush advanced to age twenty-four.

Ahem.

While contemplating her place in the universe, The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest realized something was wrong. There was a missing spot in her knowledge. Something she knew, but couldn't remember. As you know, this is a terrible sensation. Something like having your intestinal wall pushed about with too much pasta and your calves being pawed at by a cat whose name you cannot remember, and so cannot curse. (Students of Latin are all too familiar with this sensation, I can assure you.)

The bother of this sensation followed her about, gnawed at her consciousness until one day, staring over the rim of the milk jug (the Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest didn't always bother with a glass) she realized that this hole in her knowledge was round. Not just rounded, but downright circular. Something circular was missing! Given this logic, and her weekly stipend, she went out and bought a bottle of beer. Sitting and drinking her beer The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest thought hard. Alas, beer was not the answer. She thought a walk would help her mind and while walked happened across a farmer's market. Being an avid fan of the avocado, she stopped in and was struck with a grapefruit. Perplexed, the Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest picked up the offending fruit and deduced that perhaps she was simply in need of some vitamin C. She purchased the grapefruit and ate it right there in the parking lot. Licking her fingers (alas, though she had been trained in Truly Princess-Like Behavior, in fact having a bachelor of arts degree in Princessery, she was from the Midwest and no-one in the Midwest can long ignore the siren call of fruit residue on one's fingers -much like people from Texas and barbecue sauce, or college undergrads from pretty much anywhere and beer) The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest realized that the roundish hole in her knowledge was not caused by lack of vitamin C.

Drastic measures had been called for. The Four H fair was in town, and The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things made a concession -she would visit the gypsy fortune teller.

The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest entered the gypsy fortune teller's tent and said to the gypsy fortune teller,

"Hi, I'm the Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest..."
"Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things, yes, yes, dear I know."
"Ok, well, do you know why I am here?"
Silence.

After learning that gypsy fortune tellers are not mind readers, the Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest explained her problem. She told the gypsy fortune teller about the beer, the grapefruit, and the horrible sensation that her knowledge lurked somewhere past 'qui' 'quae' but before 'quod.'

"Ahhhh, Maud, may I call you Maud?"
"If you must. I suppose my full name is quite long."
"Very good. Maud, the knowledge you seek you shall find again, but humor me and smoke this."
"Oh, I don't know. I don't really trust the stuff myself."
"If you seek the learn again this knowledge you are missing, take the damn pipe."
The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things took the pipe, toked a bit and tripped all over creation for about six hours. The roundness of many things in the world swam before her and she through them -for what Princess, let alone The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things doesn't have gently illuminating experiences with hallucinogens? However, her knowledge was still roundly wounded when she returned from the trip.

"Hoy, I still know not what I ought to know, and not knowing nothing of the nature of the knowing that I no longer know!"
"Don't be so impatient. This very night, Maud, you will learn again what you have forgot." Curtly, but politely (for she was a princess), The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things took her leave. Now, since she had tripped for six hours the sun had set long before she left the tent of the gypsy fortune teller and cursing her failure to bring a flashlight The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things realized that there was light all about, even after she left the Midway. It was like silver was dripping from all surfaces, and she followed a tunnel of the molten blue light that fell between some clouds and to her surprise saw the Face of the Lunar King in all it's terrible sadness and her being the only person observing the moon that night from Earth (for even telescopes avoided it's sadness -it scratched the lenses you know) died on the spot of sheer empathy.

However, she was The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things, and holding to the Knowledge of All Those Things, her spirit skated along the silvery light of the Lunar loneliness and visited the King of the Moon.

Now, wouldn't this defy the edict of the King of the Moon that no-one travel to the Moon? She is a princess after all, and ever and always a princess can defy the edicts of a king, you ninny.

The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things said to the King,
"King! What has happened? Why does the Moon bear such a stamp of sorrow, sadness, loneliness and woe? Why, back on earth we've forgotten the Moon entirely!"
The King was struck by her impassioned speech.
"I, I had no idea! Do the tides still tide?"
"Well, yes."
"Is the night still lighted?"
"Yes!"
"Are...oh my, are the lunatics still loony?"
"Oh my, are they ever. Did you know that The President still has troops in Iraq?"
"Oh then what does it matter! I have condemned myself to a lifetime of solitude and no-one even knows!"
"But I, The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things, know. And, truth to tell, Your Kingship, it killed me."
The King of the Moon was so struck with remorse that his selfish sadness had killed such a precocious creature as The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things died himself.

The end?

Of course not, you ninnies. Before he died, the King of the Moon changed the face of the Moon from terrible loneliness to reflective compassion. In doing so his own life-force fell to the Earth and brought The Moderately Attractive Princess From the Midwest Who Prides Herself on Her Knowledge of Lots of Things back to life. On waking she promptly went home for a shower, the lunar dog bounding at her side.