Philip Pullman - Blog Posts

emiguess

11 years ago

Judo Intellectuals

The crowd was going wild as the two combatants social circled each other ready to pronounce, if the chance presented itself. They began to chant the name of the younger fighter, an artist who was given the public tested nickname of Sugar Man Ray Leonard. Thing is he was called that because he was boxing clever. But that would do him no good. This was judo. The more experienced fighter was dubbed the Obscure as he had a plethora of knowledge that served him well in his previous matches. He had swiftly defeated Thesaurus Rex and the Hip-Ocrite was no match for his peerless learned off references and his relentless posturing. He bristled at his nickname, fearing some people would assume a thematic link to the band The Cure, a musical outfit far too well known for this individual to associate himself with. His coach stood on the sidelines, chewing on his stereo-gum mouthing the lyrics from a million Japan only released b-sides. He had prepared his fighter well but you never know where a heated conversation could go. In this world of Wikipedia as the ultimate training tool, fighters had it tough. Everyone was so well informed these days. As Sugar Man Ray unleashed a shaky but compelling treatise on the disestablishment of outdated draconian governmental ideals the Obscure felt his intellectual mettle take a bit of a knocking. Politics was a weak area and he had made the mistake he always did. He wasn't holding a liberal arts magazine in front of his face as protection. He began to sweat and looked towards the timer. Was it really the same round? It had felt like this particular period of time was stretching on as long as a contemporary art installation. The polymath just didn't add up. Following another well timed satirical swipe from Sugar it was clear he was struggling with his topics and lazily slurred a passage from Franny and Zooey in an attempt to steady himself. "That's as deep as you go Salinger-wise buddy? Pathetic!" his opponent taunted him. "Let me introduce you to my little friend Seymour.." Another direct hit. The Judgemental corner began scribbling in their moleskins and this fight seemed to be ready to Finnish like it was Apocalyptica. To be fair, in traditional judo punching isn't allowed but the other fighter had gotten in his punchy prose before anyone was talking about getting punches in. Things hadn't always been this way. He had loved to absorb cultural touchstones as a child for the sake of proper learning but it was when a teenage desire to "take on the system" had mutated into a smug 20-something hubris did he realise he had lost his way. What was once a Scott Pilgrimage for him had now become just another Ghost World of thwarted ideals and expressionistic graphic novels. And the fighting industry wasn't the same either. The "Psuits" had it all sewn up, in both meanings of the phrase. Obscure wasn't ready to just fade into obscurity that easily and with a well planted zinger on his opponents moniker. "You should be called Sigur Ros Leonard!" he got his second wind. But it was probably the first wind most of the crowd had heard of. He stepped up his game, readying his signature move, a complicated maneuver his critics had called "The Pullman". It was just an elaborate name for back-Philip that he'd poetry slam on Sugar but the timing was very important. It was his turn to taunt. "Stop hitting your Will Self! Stop hitting your Will Self as he spun his way around Sugar Man Ray he began spouting film reviews of of French New Wave cinema, adding some bland platitudes about a cultural Renaissance. His mixture of classicist film critiques before a swift super(upper)cut of famous film quotes and insults proved too much for his once formidable foe. "I always said I'd hurt you,"The Obscure said in a moment of faux sincerity to his enemy. " I told you I'm a fuck up who would mess you up in the long run." Sugar Man Ray conceded defeat, reasoning that he had a mean Left Agenda. "But then I lean on my left a lot too," he consoled himself. Retiring to his library just outside the ring he began to lick his wounds and apply for unrealistic environmental drives. The Obscure had won the day and perhaps garnered too much acclaim. He knew his career was over but he was going out in a big cult classic way. The Referee/Lecturer held up his hands to the build of an ecstatic crowd cheer. This was the crowd who had just minutes ago wanted Sugar Man Ray to truimph but they had quickly changed their minds. I think it's called backlash. "Well Educated Ladies and Thoroughly Well Researched Gentleman. I present to you The Obscure who is our new Noam Chom-pion!!"