Scape, the Goat

What a weird ass day. It wasn't weird in a good way, like I found a baby leprechaun who guided me to a treasure chest. No, it was weird in a bad way, like the baby leprechaun made me eat a bunch of spoiled yogurt and then ordered me to wax his war. I'll stop there, not to be mysterious, just because I don't know the whole story and I don't want to write anything imprudent. So, if today's 'lash is completely insane and crappy, I have a convenient scapegoat.

The word scapegoat interests me. Why is it a scapegoat and not a scapepanda? My theory is that if you tried to blame everything on a panda, the panda wouldn't take it. He'd claw your nose off and then poke you with bamboo until you begged forgiveness. It's easier with a goat, though. Blame everything on a goat, and what can do it do in retaliation? At the very worst, you get a little less mohair. Big deal. Mohair went out with parachute pants and slap bracelets.

I bet it's more than just the unimportance of mohair, though. Back in the days of yore, there was probably a goat named Scape who used to break into people's homes and defecate on their belongings. When you'd wake up in the morning, you'd know exactly who did it, so you'd grab your pitchfork and run down the hill screaming, "Scape goat! Scape goat!" But then one night, some other rebellious scamp beat him to it. You think the home owner did a DNA test on the mess the next morning to determine who was at fault? No way, he went after Scape, the goat. From then on, whenever someone pooped on something and blamed it on someone else, it was known as finding a scapegoat. Perhaps later on, the term expanded to cover things not damaged by feces. I don't know, I'm no language historian. I do know, however, the whole thing could've been nipped in the bud had there existed a pair of goat diapers. In that sense, it's a lot like World War I.

Back to more pleasant matters tomorrow.