Let's Hear It For Goliath: II

Let’s Hear It For Goliath

An Existential Epic Essay & Revision of
Biblical Dogma:
The Classic’s Comic Version

David, as a callow youth,
a couple of Hebrew years before
he became King in Israel
and was brought
to his naked regal knees
by the impressive wiles of Bathsheba,
was probably about 5 feet tall,
like picturing Woody Allen
in a shepherd’s toga.

He might have been
a shield bearer for King Saul,
or he might have been just
delivering sandwiches to his
several conscripted brothers,
depending on whether you read
the Masoretic, Septuagent,
or the Dead Sea Scrolls
version of “1 Samuel 17”.

The same could be said
for the exact height
of the Gigantus Goliatus,
reported to have ranged
from 6’6” to 9’6” tall.
I remember watching
KING DAVID (1985), directed by
Bruce Beresford,
in Bakersfield, California,
during a hellish sand storm,
and I recall that the actor
who portrayed Goliath,
Luigi Montefiori (George Eastman)
was 6’9” tall.
So I put it to you,
where is the truth,
the data, the real deal regarding
the actual Philistine champion’s
height in kilos & cubits?

We have been told that that there
they were, two vast opposing armies
faced off in the verdant naval
of the Valley of Elah,
and that for 40 days, twice a day
during the morning and evening
Jewish prayers,
gruff Goliath would stroll out
into the no man’s land,
and offer his bellicose challenge,
“Send out your champion,
you Israelite dog-humpers!”

He would curse them for an hour
until he became hoarse,
calling them every breed
of coward and sexual deviate,
bragging that yes, it was he
who had captured the Ark of the Covenant,
and that now it resided in the
Philistine Temple of Dagon.
Now please do not confuse
this oft told tale
of David & Goliath
to the earlier story
included in the Iliad
where the young Nestor
fought and slew the giant Ereuthalion,
for there is nothing new
under the holy land's sun;
and these kind of struggles,
where some kid defeats
huge adversaries in the desert,
were common as rebellions,
and a lot of religious spin
has been attached to them.

So,
you are cool with the drill, right?
Young David, with willowy arms,
and skinny bird-like legs,
on the 41st day of this event,
stepped forward, or was pushed
into the fray, and promptly he
declined the use of any armor,
locked and loaded as he was
with his trusty sling
and 5-7 polished rocks
he inched forward into legend.

Goliath,
aka Golyat, aka Jalut, aka Julyat
berated and scorned him, cursed him
in several dialects, and said
several mean things about his Mama,
growling, spitting, and howling
like a monster from Hades,
which is located
about 12 miles SE of Gath,
Goliath’s hood.

But the diminutive sheep-loving
shepherd stood his ground,
his tiny shadow dwarfed
by the dark girth of Goliath’s,
like standing next to
a two story building,
and in a high adolescent’s falsetto
David declared that the great God
Jehovah was standing beside him,
that he had warrior angels
on each shoulder,
that his river stones were magical
and that he would indeed slay him,
saying “Afterward I will give your
dead body to the birds of the air
and the wild beasts of the earth!”

and badda-bing, wham, pow,
and zowey-zing, David’s very first stone
whistled as it left the leather
of his sling and struck the big guy
in the third eye, crushing the front
of his thick skull, ramming that rock
an inch deep into Goliath’s brain.
I doubt that David said,
“Dude, I told you so!”
but he should have.
What he did was pick up
Goliath’s great sword, and cut off
the giant’s head with it.
Later he kept the sword,
displayed Goliath’s armor
in his woolen tent, and hand-carried
the twenty-two pound head all the
way to Jurusalem.

Man, I tell you what,
that tale is a downer.
I prefer a more romanticized version
where maybe Goliath has a slick
nickname, like Big Goli, has a homeless
sheep dog and a cute orphaned kid for
companions as he roams the Holyland
to the strains of Queen or Led Zepplin,
searching every week for injustices
to right, and villains to beat up.

I vividly recall back in 1957 when
Steve Reeves Italian muscleman movies
were way popular, and you know that I
thought Goliath was cool, only second
to Hercules for popularity and star power,
where stalwart Goliath was a greased-up
tanned terrific hero who always got
the princess by the final credits—
certainly you remember GOLIATH AGAINST
THE GIANTS (1960)with Brad Harris,
or GOLIATH AND THE REBEL SLAVES,
aka SON OF HERCULES(1963)
with Gordon Scott,
or GOLIATH AND THE MASKED RIDER (1964)
with Peter Lupus.

Hell, for decades comic book writers,
inkers, and graphic artists have been
flattering and kind regarding the
public’s image of Goliath, letting him
score with the chicks, be conflicted,
heal miraculously, and emerge
consistently as a winner. So hey,
how about it, you bible-thumping,
old testament-spouting,
Koran-quoting zealots out there.
Just chill.
Let’s hear it for Goliath.

Glenn Buttkus March 2010

Listed as #14 over on dVerse Poets--Poetics Saturday

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