So La Cieca is in moderate agony today since she chipped a tooth.  She was eating turkey on white bread with mayo when it happened, which gives you some idea of your doyenne’s dental fragility, not to mention ethnic blandness, but that’s not the point of this story.  You may recall that at least once before La Cieca has mentioned that the only thing her life lacks is subtlety; that is, if you viewed La Cieca’s existence as performance art (which she certainly hope you do) you would surely complain that the symbolism is heaped on in such heavy-handed daubs that you are ready to shout, “Okay, I get it already.” 

So, this broken tooth we were talking about before.  What was left is exposed was old metal filling with a sharp jagged point. And so (are you ready for this?) every time La Cieca tries to talk, she receives a painful prick in the tongue!  So there you have it, the circle of Hell that dear Dante omitted for reasons of clanging obviousness:  purveyors of gossip have metal spikes driven into their tongues.

Anyway, your doyenne is off to the dentist at lunchtime and will be babbling again before you know it. In the meantime, she’s keeping an eye on her email for a review of last night’s Thäis from one of Our Own, so be sure to check back in later today for that particular “mediation.”