THE FEROCITY OF THE BERRY

By Ben Greenman

from forthcoming collection, as yet untitled

“Mad as a Watchmaker” may be, as Dr. Howard Statofar put it the other day, “an expression of the moment only,” given the recent spate of angry behavior by watch repair professionals in the city that has resulted, to date, in four smashed automobiles, one house set on fire, and six independent episodes of fisticuffs whose damages totaled to five broken facial bones, four broken hand bones, multiple lacerations, and one retinal detachment resulting in permanent blindness.  “It will pass,” Statofar says. “If not, we can begin the painful process of bidding farewell to accurate timekeeping in favor of protecting our safety.” But when it passes, how will anger be figured in speech? There is no shortage of expressions to take its place, for the “Watchmaker” is only one of many to bear the comparison. The list of those consumed by rage, as given in the Beddoes Dictionary, is diverting reading:—

“Mad as a giraffe,” — Baskett, “Top To Bottom.”

“Mad as a mendicant,” —P. Howard Albers

“Mad as a berry,” —“Thailand Guide Book.”

“Mad as Lancelot’s lance,” —Rosemont

“Mad as a Hide-a-Key” —“Take Four,” 2017

Why the giraffe  (unless it was the famous example of that animal that rampaged through a neighborhood of Nairobi about ten years and was dubbed the “G-raff” by the American press, by way of associating it with the slang term for a gangster) or the Hide-a-Key should be famed for anger, I do not know. The mendicant’s loss of calm can be easy explained, in view of his humble circumstances, and the origin of “Lancelot’s lance” is found not in Arthurian legend, but in stories of Lance O’Hara, a Chicago policeman in the 1890s who was legendary for his vile temper and brutal treatment of suspects, and whose nightstick carried the historical nickname. The ferocity of the Thai berry has been established repeatedly, and many of the stories are too gory to repeat in full. What will be the next standard of vehemence?