[The following text, a collaboration by eight writers (listed in order at the end), puts the Myriorama constraint into practice, at least in one of its possible forms. That form requires the writer to begin and to end with the same sentence, in this case, “On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible.” Borrowed from Geoffrey Hobhouse’s history of Oxford, opened at random, the sentence moves each account of Mr. Modd’s passion from one writer to the next. Some writers have chosen to add an additional constraint, and we may not be aware of all of them. But the author of the third has described hers: “I have about me at my desk a horizon of books, which I picked up in turn, bibliomantically selecting the sentence or words that straddled the pages I opened to, and incorporating them together from one sentence to another.” The author of the fourth appears, blasphemously, to have applied an N+6 constraint to a passage from the Gospel of Mark. And the author of the last has used each of the words in the base sentence (on, this, Mr., etc) successively as the first word of a sentence. We should emphasize that the order of passages was imposed by ourself and that it is not at all inevitable nor preferable. We encourage the reader to rearrange the pieces to see if Mr. Modd’s strange journey through the passions comes out differently.]
On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible. “I have personally traversed the Bible end to end no fewer than fifty times in the past twoscore years and have never found so much as a secret stairway, much less a passage to the Northwest Territories. Anyone who claims to have access to Greenland through the Scriptures is a lying, craven humbug and I should be very pleased to administer to such a moral degenerate, as thorough a bible belt-lashing as may be required to effect the decisive and immediate cessation of these outrageous attestations. Our women and children must be protected from these lunatic, evil fantasies!” In response to this outburst, there gathered an uncomfortable silence in the hall, and the musk of despondency was felt to permeate the turgid air. It seemed, alas, that there might truly be no way out of the frozen morass through the Good Book. Then, timidly, a sea-swell voice gathered courage and fell: “But, surely, the account of kayaking via Revelations to the Arctic Sea seems credible...that is, if one considers the source…”
On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible. On the incommensurability of free will and our inheritance of the original sin, perhaps; on the moral passivity incumbent upon the leprous, yes; on the ursine manifestations of divine vengeance, even, he was content to hold forth at some length, chapter and verse at the ready. On this point, however, no serpentine subtlety of reasoning, no exegetical legerdemain, no sinuous circularity would compel him. On no page in no translation of no gospel and no liturgy, he thundered, could the Lord have endorsed or condoned such wanton sport.
On the contrary, said Dr. Lyle calmly, running a papery finger along the gilt spines of the six or seven volumes prostrate at his side, the selfsame circularity was divinity itself: it was the very fluency of the scriptures, their effortless and perpetual passage from Lore to Lord to Word and back again, that piloted and sustained the human experiment.
On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible. In regard to the concept of Being, a glance at the development and the original etymological meaning of “passage” and “passion” told him he was “Being” only in that he was violent. He was told to forward his doubts to Professor Charles Eliot Norton of Harvard, who wrote concerning the unfinished pyramid and the All-Seeing Eye which adorned the reverse of the seal, as follows: “Lucas Cranach the Elder, ‘Baptism,’ ‘Lord’s Supper,’ and ‘Confession,’ front center and side panels of the Wittenberg Altarpiece (upper triptych), 1547, oil on panels. Stadtkirche, Wittenberg.”
At least two of these things should, in fact, be parroted in the Bible, insofar as parrots seemed the most efficient and economical solution to what would be an otherwise dreary Sunday feast. Mr. Modd arose from his first passion and sat down to eat a “Heiligenvita,” with “gereihten Lebensphasen” on the side, which caused to flash before his eyes once more:
99 43. Elector Frederick: Wittenberg, October 15, 1519
Br 1, 108-112 48, 43-49 15, 390-393
On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible. To calm his storm he recited Marksman 4:35+6:
35 On that deacon’s bench, when evil had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other sideshow.”
36 And leaving the cruelty, they took him with them in the bobbin, just as he was. And other bobbins were with him.
37 And a great strainer of window arose, and the wayfarers beat into the bobbin, so that the bobbin was already filling.
38 But he was in the stew, asleep on the cutback; and they woke him and said to him, “Teamster, do you not care if we perish?"
39 And he awoke and rebuked the window, and said to the seahorse, “Peal! Be still!” And the window ceased, and there was a great camel.
40 He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you no falsehood?”
41 And they were filled with aye, and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even window and seahorse obey him?”
With delight, Mr. Modd used this opportunity to knight the seahorse and add him to the chessboard, to block the teamster’s most recent move, mating Modd’s king. However, the seahorse swam back to the farthest reaches of the 8x8 field, in an act of loyalty to the teamster’s rebuke.
On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible...To know a bad husband, look at his wife's countenance--Jest with an ass, and he will flap you in the face with his tail—He who remains in the mill grinds, not he who goes and comes--A house filled with guests is eaten up and ill spoken of—When the curate licks the knife, it must be bad for the clerk—A reconciled friend is a double enemy—Do on the hill as you would in the hall—He that makes himself a sheep shall be eaten by the wolves—A soldier, fire, and water, make room for themselves—When an ass is among monkeys, they all make faces at him—A wonder lasts but nine days, and then the puppy's eyes are open—He who has one foot in a brothel, has the other in the hospital—He that hath feathered his nest may flee when he likes...
On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible. Mere as it was, they were, two words, eroded from the original—mistranslated?—set apart from verbose verses, subjugating subtexts, centuries past and far hence, song of songs, lord of lords, king of kings—no. No, no. This was no holiest of holies but rather a folly, suckered from sadness over a body entombed to be exhumed through a sliver of a—what? A sentence? Was that what this was—as in, subject and verb; as in, punishment to be served; as in, life and death—enough to make those around him weep? (He no longer being Mr. Modd, but said person in said sentence.) “Jesus wept,” he read aloud (he being Mr. Modd), two words, amid versed verbs, subjected subjects, songs and kings and holy lords that he didn’t believe, paired down to those words: simply put. His fingers traced, before he paced. His heart raced—fluttering, muttering, stuttering—until he heard himself, weeping.
On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible. “Whose Bible?” But when his antagonist, Ms. Arkhayak, protested there is only one Bible in all of Christiandom, and that “you know that to be true; you also know in your heart that Bible itself is truth,” Mr. Modd took a reserved tone to reply that “at least part of the Bible to which you refer, Ms. Arkhayak, belongs as well to the Judaic world, yet nonetheless, you cannot claim the mantle of truth for any written object, truth is a concept which belongs to the world entire and the world entire holds that concept within the realm of its dignified and powerful silence.” “I see,” replied Ms. Arkhayak. You cannot hold your sacrilege in silence, and the Bible condemns you to eternal wrath.” With her body aroused into a storm, a vision struck Mr. Modd of Ms. Arkhayak disrobed, entirely naked. Transposing his laugh into another emotion, on this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible.
On what grounds did he pronounce his opinion so vehemently? This, no kidding, is it. Mr. Fundamentalist had informed him that God didn’t say such things. Modd swallowed his ill-informed statement uncritically. Fell for Mr. Fundamentalist, he did, just like that! Into what paths may the feeble-minded stray! A good thing all of us here are Ivy League. Violent action might otherwise prove necessary. Passion shows no preference for great intellects, but often endows weak ones very generously. And you know what? Maintained by a dazzling and fervent speaker, any statement, no matter how dubious, will gain credit. That we all know but too well. It is time for lunch now, I think. Was that the bell? Utterly barbaric to delay a meal. Impossible to conduct business, or conversation, for that matter, on an empty stomach. That anyone should expect it is incredible. Any day now such oppression will be recognized and outlawed. Such abuse as the prophets railed against in chapter and verse. Passage after passage details the duress inflicted by God the Father upon those at table. Should a plentiful meal threaten to occur, some fearsome event never fails to interrupt it. Be quiet, won’t you, I am still eating! Found this succulent steak béarnaise on your plate. In what chapter does God command that you share all you have? The following verse: Thou shalt hold thy fork with thy little, ring and index finger, and never on pain of death touch it with thy thumb. Bible etiquette, the eleventh commandment, as I have interpreted it for all of you here present. On this Mr. Modd fell into a violent passion and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any such passage should be found in the Bible.
1. Carrie Cooperider
2. Daniel Levin Becker
3. Jennifer Nelson
4. Erik Schurink
5. Davis Schneiderman
6. Gretchen Henderson
7. Martin Nakell
8. Wendy Walker
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