The other night, E.S. and I watched a television program called Merlin, which seems to be a sort of prequel to the story beloved by so many. It features Arthur as a strapping blond lad (if pressed one might admit to a small desire that he be just ever so slightly more strapping) and Merlin as his macrotous contemporary, along with Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer as Arthur’s cruel, domineering father Uther. At one point during the show E.S. and I had the following conversation.
E.S.: Wait a minute. Which one’s Arthur?
FAUSTUS: Him.
E.S.: But she just called the other guy Arthur.
FAUSTUS: No, she called him Uther.
E.S.: Who’s that?
FAUSTUS (pausing the show): Are you serious? How can you not know basic mythology?
E.S.: How can you not know how to take out the garbage?
FAUSTUS: Uther was Arthur’s father. He married Igraine, but not before—
(E.S. unpauses the show)
FAUSTUS: But you asked me to—! You wanted to know who—
E.S.: Yes, but I’m bored now.
FAUSTUS: Don’t ever touch me again.
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