These two unrelated datapoints will serve here to create a wholly imaginary etymology for "discordatum", and to underline the fundamental and unyielding substance of the pantsuit "concordatum"i, their spurious "solution" to a well resolved problem.
But first, let's take the time to rigorously define our terms. So, in any sexuate species, there will necessarily be one productive and one improductiveii sexiii. Consequently it will be the chief strategy of one sex to manipulate the environment, and the chief strategy of the other sex to sit around on its (therefore larger) ass and await for the metaphysical transcendent to manifest itself.
This much is self-evident and deductively necessary on the basis of the given premises, and therefore inescapable. That the mainpulative sex will go about pretending the inept sex is "truly manipulative", that the inept sex will go about pretending that rape's at least slightly less legitimate than pregnancy... The advantage, dubious such as it is, of a brainbox dangling from the anticaudal end of that chord is that its bearers get to tell themselves whatever stories get them through the night ; and I earnestly hope it works for you as well as it works for them.
Back to the issue of interest, as around the hearth so in the heavens, or rather -- as in the chord's caudal end so in the other one. As society becomes sufficiently complicated, which is to say as the individuals composing the group become sufficiently lazy and self-absorbed, there will be a split among the avocations : some will occupy themselves in jobs of the inept, sitting on their ass waiting for things to happen, and some others will occupy themselves in jobs of the manipulative, going about fucking things up for everyone forevermore. Such is life, also inescapably, but if it helps you any I believe the Pantsuit Concordatum on Terminology calls the former "priestly class" and the latter "warrior class". Not that it makes any difference.
Now then, the bullshit of 1122iv was a relatively unimportant event whereby an "agreement" was reached on how to dispose of matters already well disposed at that time. The correct solution, put forth by the Waiblingen side and actually agreed to by the chief pantsuitv of 1111 -- thereby becoming the only proper, and only possible Concordat -- held that the idle class may await the second, third or whicheverth coming at their pleasure or until they fall over, whichever comes first, but may derive no secular anything whatsoever from it no matter what happens. The subjection of the Mother, if you will, complete and unyielding, equating Lucy with utter and completely destitute poverty in perpetuity.
For reasons incomprehensible and which directly and immediately map upon evil, the idle class then proceeded to imagine an alternative chain of events, in which their fork of 1122 somehow "took over" and "mattered" and therefore there shall be some kind of something in this world for they awaiting the manifestations of the next, a little, no matter how little, an epsilon quanta of nothingness but something nevertheless.
To say that this nonsense is disputed by the Republic would do the situation no justice whatsoever. The correct statement is to observe that the Discordat of Worms is a concordat of no one with nobody in particular, and of no further interest. The awaiting of the manifestations of metaphysical transcendence is and will forever remain a purely spiritual activity, with no lands and no secular offices affixed thereby.
No so se mi spiego.———
- Which was how they said "community consensus" (aka fecal matter) in 1122. [↩]
- The selection of where to attach the provided "productive" and "improductive" labels stands at your option, however the system itself does not. To quote Mimi,
- Signora Mardocheo. Le baccio le mani.
- Che bacci cani.
- Cammina. Ora tu devi venire en chiesa con mi.
- Tutto quello che voglio parlar' con ti ti parlo con l'avvocato.
- Aaaa, non e' piu tempo d'avvocati. Questa creatura innocente, porta il nome mio o no ? E allora, ci devono vedere tutti, comme quella grande famiglia che siamo.
- No. Io con te non ci vengo.
- Cammina o ti porto a calci.
- O te! Ma che cosa e che voi fare, sei matto ?
- Io a questa bottana ci mangio il cuore!
- Zitta, cammina. Questa non c'entra.
- Brigadiere Amilcare Finocchiaro! Permetette due parole ?
- State dicendo a me ?
- Si signore, a voi. Brigadiere Finocchiaro, dico proprio a voi. Si non vi disturba, le permetette due parole ?
- Ma io sto entrando en chiesa.
- E cosa de un momento. Quando... per mettere a posto le cose a la luce del sole, qua en piazza, davante a gli amici, come se debe fare per gentilomini. Datosi, come tutti sanno, che la creatura de la mia signora e figlia a voi, e che quale que la vostra signora maturische de qualche giorno e figlia mia... si siete d'accordo, quando nasce, quando zgraba, ce l'ho scambiamo. A voi il vostro, e a me il mio. A cosi mettemo a posto tutta 'sta confusione d'onore, di tradimenti, prego, regolarizziamo. E poi como se dice -- un bastardo per uno no fa male a nessuno. Io no so se mi spiego.
- Ne', che sta dicendo ? Che sta dicendo! Che dice!
- Te ho' rida', maritu' mi bello! Tu mi h'ai fatti corni a mi, si ? E invece io ti h'o fatti corni a te! E, si! Sei cornuto, brigadiere!
Now then, shall I translate or do you already know what it says ? [↩]
- The cultural constructs of gender are not yet interesting here. [↩]
- Pompously called "the Concordat of Worms" in pantsuit sources, as fucking if. [↩]
- Paschal 2, who then reneged, of course. [↩]