Doonesbury and Lick you Sir?

Two days ago I saw this Doonesbury strip and smiled, thinking of my 'Lick you, sir' piece in the 'The Odysseus Poems', which I hope would have got the unpleasant man in the last panel in a lethal lather, the Siren myth being about one of the most mysognistic myths ever dreamed up by a passing Homer...

(To set the scene: 'Now his audience hears how he left Circe to sail for Ithaka once more, and how on Circe’s advice, to escape the irresistible songs of the man-eating Sirens, he plugged his oarsmen’s ears with wax. . . though not his own; had the men tie him to the mast, and ordered them not to untie him. . .')

What the Sirens sang to Odysseus: Lick you, sir?

'Sorry you left her, sorry she let you
leave her? Loved you, didn’t she,
but not as much as you thought, did she?
Seemed quite cool on her big fancy jetty
of marble when you turned and waved to her.
She didn’t wave back, did she?
Stood there and then walked into her forest.
Lost your queen lady, didn’t you?
for middleaged titties and a cunt you can’t remember. Hoist on your own mast, aren’t you, sir?

Like being tied up, sir? you seem
to like getting tied up. Never mind, sir,
because we love it too.
Lick you, sir, any way you want?
Pour honey in those ears, clean out those
naughty ears? Ears can be very naughty, sir.
Everything you ever wanted, no waiting.
We’ll tie you really tightly, like you couldn’t breathe. Open you all over, ears, mouth, open our mouths
for the lot of you. Lick you, sir? any way you want.

Stuff that big fat mast down our throats?
no problem, sir, we can take it, not like some,
in the eye. We can take it, oh yes, deeper. . . bigger,
bigger, oh. . . yes. . . YES. . . any way you want we do. Hey, captain! There’s trouble brewing round
the next bend for a stiff prick with two ass ears
for an arse. Like six heads are sharper
than one. Like misery looking for misery.
Don’t say we didn’t try to save you the trouble.
Anything to please a passing fucker. Honey up yours.'

Judith Kazantzis, from THE ODYSSEUS POEMS (Waterloo 2011)