tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80902879361678208772024-03-24T08:29:44.506-07:00A World ElsewhereUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger248125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-52878574490236984492020-06-26T01:29:00.002-07:002020-06-26T02:21:59.133-07:00Il mio sogno.... Una vita senza la Responsibalità !<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKpS-Zui5-bbhEgPokN9Ep6WpW1LMC3zvQQii3CRaJWhMvvbi-iO8RhuOQ53ai-UG_LQ17n2BKGYe8QSsARZr246_C_6UdXP6oSLz3sI_DwFemj75HIo9JA4Wft2QQATC9vRaGlQ1Uyka/s1600/istockphoto-959031782-1024x1024.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKpS-Zui5-bbhEgPokN9Ep6WpW1LMC3zvQQii3CRaJWhMvvbi-iO8RhuOQ53ai-UG_LQ17n2BKGYe8QSsARZr246_C_6UdXP6oSLz3sI_DwFemj75HIo9JA4Wft2QQATC9vRaGlQ1Uyka/s320/istockphoto-959031782-1024x1024.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">Perché sono un uomo coraggioso non ho paura di denaro; e perché non credo a una vita dopo la morte, i miei sogni sono completamente materialistici. Mi piacerrebbe avere una montagna di soldi, e allora non farei nient'altro che giocare. Giocerei la mattina, il pomeriggio e la sera, e quando sarei stanco di giocare in Inghilterra, andrei a giocare in Italia, o in Francia, il paese non è importante, la cosa importante è di giocare. E poi comprerei uno specchio per guardarmi, perché il migliore spettacolo del mondo da guardare è quello di un uomo ricco. I poveri debbono contentarsi della menzogna delle loro fantasie per sentirsi liberi. Ma i sogni dei ricchi sono reali, veramente reali. Naturalmente c'è chi direbbe che la vita non è un gioco, ma una cosa seria, e che senza la responsibalità la vita è soltanto una conchiglia vuota, e una personna senza la responsibalità un'ombro che non ha forma né sostenza. Ma essere ricco è potar vivere senza la responsibalità. La responsibalità è la sorte dei poveri. La sorte dei ricchi è di giocare, e se il mio sogno si realizzasse, prenderei la decisione eroica di vivere senza la responsibalità, e di giocare tutti i giorni. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-66788127564101331102020-05-05T01:19:00.001-07:002020-05-05T01:19:13.794-07:00Il dolce far niente - The sweet pleasure of doing nothing. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Ripe was the drowsy hour;</i></span><div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>The blissful cloud of summer-indolence </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">(John Keats)</span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dolce Far Niente (Sweet Idleness)<br />or a Pompeian Fishpont (1904)<br />by John William Godward </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">Celebrating <i>'Il dolce far niente'</i>, the sweet, delicious pleasure of indolence. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dolce Far Niente (1877)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">by Auguste Toulmouche </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-68424419837002870332020-01-15T06:48:00.000-08:002020-01-15T06:48:54.486-08:00The Mysterious Episode of the Royal Poodle's Broken Foot - a spoof <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6wXxxcjXOBZEKbopFFR5tiNP8MAQGd9N7_DdXpkXJkJAO5YvEWNlo_qxZ6QXExK8hvJ-YvnEBjal9A1mzACTjXbWrBjD5AzmaZ_usSD6moYo9yP9njoL6ymgCyRkFEGt8ZjxarZgLklF/s1600/istockphoto-165504795-612x612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="555" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6wXxxcjXOBZEKbopFFR5tiNP8MAQGd9N7_DdXpkXJkJAO5YvEWNlo_qxZ6QXExK8hvJ-YvnEBjal9A1mzACTjXbWrBjD5AzmaZ_usSD6moYo9yP9njoL6ymgCyRkFEGt8ZjxarZgLklF/s320/istockphoto-165504795-612x612.jpg" width="290" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Television Newsroom. PRESENTER on air.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: We have Breaking News just come in. That's Breaking News just come in. It is reported that one of the Royal Poodles has broken its foot. This is Breaking News just come in. One of the Royal Poodles has broken its foot. That's one of the Royal Poodles has broken its foot. We're going straight over to our Royal Correspondent outside the Royal Palace. Clive, what can you tell us?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">CLIVE: Good morning, Michelle. All I can tell you is that one of the Royal Poodles has broken its foot. We don't know when it happened...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Now that's what I wanted to ask you? Do we know when it happened? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">CLIVE: No, we don't know when it happened. All we know for the moment is that one of the Royal Poodles has broken its foot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Clive, our Royal Correspondent, thank you for the moment. And now I'm joined in the studio by the former editor of a leading fashion magazine. Melissa, what's your take on this Breaking News that one of the Royal Poodles has broken its foot? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">MELISSA: So, f</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">irst can I extend my heartfelt sympathies to the Monarch. So, it must be heartbreaking that one of her beloved poodles has broken its foot. So, of course she does have six hundred and twenty seven poodles... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Now that's what I wanted to ask you. How many poodles does the Monarch have? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">MELISSA: So, how many poodles does the Monarch have? So, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">she has six hundred and twenty seven poodles. Absolutely! So, but of course we don't know which one of the six hundred and twenty seven has broken its foot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: I'd just like to point to viewers watching at home that the poodle on your screens is not the Royal Poodle that has broken its foot. Because that's what we're discussing, the Breaking News that one of the Royal Poodles has broken its foot. Clive, our Royal Correspondent outside the Royal Palace, any developments your end?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">CLIVE: No, nothing new here, Michelle. There are no signals at all coming out of the Palace...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: That's what I wanted to ask you. Are there any signals at all coming out of the Palace? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">CLIVE: No, there are no signals at all coming out of the Palace. In fact, there have been no developments at all since the Breaking News that one of the Royal Poodles has broken its foot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Thank you, Clive. That's Clive our Royal Correspondent with the news that there is no news from the Royal Palace. Melissa, former editor of a leading fashion magazine here in the studio with us, what will be going through the mind of the Monarch right now?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">MELISSA: So, what will be going through the mind of the Monarch right now? So, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">well of course she will be utterly distraught and deeply concerned that one of her beloved poodles has broken its foot. Absolutely! So, but the Monarch is also immensely practical and I'm certain that the Royal Poodle will be receiving the best possible care from the Royal Vet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Now that's what I wanted to ask you. Will the Royal Poodle be receiving the best possible care from the Royal Vet?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">MELISSA: So, will the Royal Poodle will be receiving the best possible care from the Royal Vet? Absolutely! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: I'd just like to say to viewers watching at home that the picture on your screens of a dog lying on a vet's table is not the Royal Poodle that has broken its foot. And neither is the dog that you see on your screen a poodle. I just want to make that absolutely clear before you start contacting us. <i>(Suddenly excited) </i>Oh, I'm told that our Royal Correspondent outside the Royal Palace has some news for us. Clive, what's the news?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">CLIVE: Well the news I'm hearing is that the Royal Poodle has been examined by the Royal Vet and it is confirmed that the Royal Poodle's foot has not been broken after all. So that's confirmation that the foot of the Royal Poodle has not been broken. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Clive, that's wonderful news! Melissa, what's your reaction to the news that the Royal Poodle has not broken its foot after all? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">MELISSA: So, what's my reaction to the news that the Royal Poodle has not broken its foot after all? So, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">this is really fantastic news! Absolutely! So, I'm sure the Monarch will be thrilled, and, of course, greatly relieved. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: This is what I wanted to ask you. Will the Monarch be thrilled, and, of course, greatly relieved that the Royal Poodle has not broken its foot? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">MELISSA: So, will the Monarch be thrilled, and, of course, greatly relieved that the Royal Poodle has not broken its foot? Absolutely! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Thank you, Melissa. And now let's turn to the report from the United Nations that the effects of global warming have been grossly underestimated and that human life on the planet will be extinct in one week's time. Joining us from Parliament is the Secretary of State for the Environment. Good morning, Secretary of State, thank you being with us. Before we discuss this U.N. report, what's your reaction to the Breaking News that the Royal Poodle's foot was not broken? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">SECRETARY: Good morning, Michelle. Well, of course, this is fantastic news, and I'm sure that the Monarch and her extended family will be enormously relieved. Going forward I am sure that going forward everyone going forward will do all that they can going forward to prevent such an event from occurring again going forward. Now as for the alarming report on the demise of the human race in the next seven days, if I could just say....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: We only have a second left. If you could...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">SECRETARY: Well I just want to assure everyone that the Government....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Sorry, Secretary of State, I'll have to cut you off, we're right </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">out of time. We have just time to go to our Royal Correspondent outside of the Royal Palace. Clive, what's happening your end? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">CLIVE: I'm still standing here in front of the Royal Palace, and I can see straight down the Royal Avenue, which is where we believe the Royal Car carrying the Royal Poodle accompanied by the Royal Poodle Handler will drive down, before passing through the Palace Gates and into the Royal Palace. But there is no sign at the moment of the Royal Car. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: That's what I wanted to ask you. Is there any sign at the moment of the Royal Car?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">CLIVE: No, I can confirm there's no sign at the moment of the Royal Car.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">PRESENTER: Thank you, Clive. And thank you to my guest in the studio, the former editor of a leading fashion magazine. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">MELISSA: So. Thank you. Absolutely! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: helvetica neue, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Theme music over PRESENTER shuffling some papers and MELISSA looking a little lost.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: helvetica neue, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ENDS </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-87732804460265775772019-12-31T01:57:00.001-08:002019-12-31T01:57:11.659-08:00Ramon Casas - Decadent Young Woman after the Ball<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Decadent Young Woman after the Ball<br />by Ramon Casas </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">O, how the beautiful lady in the black dress had danced! Gayly tripping the night fantastic, until Phoebus in golden mantle clad had scaled the wall of the glittering east, and it was the hour to bid her sad <i>'Adieux'. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Exhausted now she lies on her sumptuous divan dreaming of the ball and how she had dazzled all with her charm and her dance melodious. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But her joy at the ball was tinged with her sadness at leaving. And is this not so with us all? Who among us has felt not the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">sorrow of parting? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But for the lady in the black dress there will be more balls voluptuous! And more dawns collapsed on her divan in an ecstatic and decadent bliss. </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-68118044634251378992019-12-22T11:54:00.002-08:002019-12-30T02:05:19.289-08:00The Doctor's Appointment <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Doctor's surgery. DOCTOR, male, at his desk. Makes an announcement on speaker)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: Mr Gerald Jones, Room 6. <i>(Puts down microphone) </i>Right, now I must try and avoid the use of any bad language with Mr Jones. He is a patient, after all, and I'm far too liberal in my use of obscenities. But it isn't easy! The fact is that I find I can express myself comfortably if I use bad language. It's just how I am. But I must try nonetheless to more restrained in my choice of words. <i>(At that moment the surgery door opened and PATIENT, Mr Jones came in.) </i>Ah, Mr er... Please come in, take a seat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: Thank you, doctor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So what's the fucking problem? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: It's my toe, doctor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: Your toe? What's wrong with your fucking toe?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: I think it could be an ingrowing toenail. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: Well let's have a look at your toe. <i>(Examines toe) </i>Yes, it's a fucking ingrown toenail all right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: So what can be done, doctor? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: We'll have to cut it off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: <i>(startled) </i>Cut my toe off?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: No, no, not your fucking toe. Just the fucking bit of the nail that's growing inwards. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: Thank goodness for that! For a moment you had me worried, doctor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: So does it hurt?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: It does when I knock it. .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: I'll bet it fucking does! Anyway, I'll make you a hospital appointment and we'll get the fucking thing sorted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: How long will it take, doctor, to have the operation? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: That's a fucking good question. It's difficult to fucking say. You'll just have to patient. That's why you're called fucking patients, after all, eh? <i>(Laughs aloud at his joke) </i>So anyway, you'll hear from us as soon as possible. Now I can't be fucking fairer than that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: OK. Thanks a lot, doctor. You've been very helpful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: No fucking problem. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>PATIENT walks to the door, hits his toe on the wall.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">PATIENT: Ooh, my toe! <i>(He hops around the room screaming.)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i> NURSE comes running in.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">NURSE: What's all the fucking noise? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: Mr er... has hit his fucking toe on the wall. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">NURSE: Come on, I'll help you out. Hold on to my fucking arm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>NURSE helps PATIENT out of the surgery. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: <i>(alone - to himself) </i>Well I didn't do very good there. My resolution to no longer use had language didn't get past the first hurdle. I really must try harder. Who's the next patient? Let me see. Reverend Williams. Well, it should be easy to restrain my impulses with a man of the church. <i>(Makes announcement on speaker.) </i>Reverend Williams, Room 6, please. <i>(Puts down microphone) </i>N</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">ow stay calm. Just relax. Remember what you have to do. <i>(The door opens and REVEREND Williams comes in.) </i>Ah, </span><span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Reverend, please take a seat. First of all may I apologise for failing to attend church in recent months. Purely a lapse I assure you. Perhaps you'll permit me to make a donation to the fund for the maintenance of the tower. Shall we say twenty pounds? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">REVEREND: Fuck off! Do something about my fucking arthritis, you fucking quack! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">DOCTOR: Right... well if you'd er... care to lie on your back on the trolley and tell me exactly what the fucking problem is and I'll give you a good fucking examination. Now I can't be fucking fairer than that. Well fucking can I?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>(DOCTOR examines REVEREND with professional acumen and at ease with himself. )</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>ENDS</i></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-36968835827147400642019-09-29T05:02:00.000-07:002019-09-29T05:02:48.639-07:00John Keats - his autograph in his edition of Shakespeare <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Autograph of John Keats in his volume of <br />Shakespeare's Comedies, Histories,<br />& Tragedies<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">John Keats by Joseph Severn<br />1821<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-12840328108790200872019-09-13T01:07:00.000-07:002019-09-13T01:07:16.322-07:00Fatherless Kittens<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Fatherless feline kitties.... They've been katnapped! </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-29636713487982695892019-09-09T02:02:00.001-07:002019-09-09T02:02:36.732-07:00Venezia - Chi non ti vede, chi non ti prezia.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">J M W Turner </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I may speak to thee as the traveller doth of Venice:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Chi non ti vede, chi non ti prezia.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">William Shakespeare </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-60170848770992157822019-08-18T01:38:00.002-07:002019-09-08T01:47:00.968-07:00Life... Time's Fool... <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCET_2xZyciGpMH6We65HZjBneBVPTP7N44QKAmECju7708YDI16xhulql5r88YBo0DE58NKM5TCw8Bvj1vHIOzvYu2yPwK7mT6HsuBD8BNLdKirBU5MaCDTUujKXgo_Rsp60w1nEnLymo/s1600/06224401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="370" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCET_2xZyciGpMH6We65HZjBneBVPTP7N44QKAmECju7708YDI16xhulql5r88YBo0DE58NKM5TCw8Bvj1vHIOzvYu2yPwK7mT6HsuBD8BNLdKirBU5MaCDTUujKXgo_Rsp60w1nEnLymo/s400/06224401.jpg" width="307" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But thoughts, the slaves of life, and life, time's fool,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And time, that takes survey of all the world,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Must have a stop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">William Shakespeare </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-8796475150758778582019-04-28T07:21:00.000-07:002019-04-28T07:21:00.520-07:00The Party - a play divided into two acts by Jane Arden<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSJkUeK5v7nN09sAMP_hoJ7aXhsTB1E75rMTp4BguAkNpTBK5ASsuCWJrn3hyphenhyphenywazVV7Is_ONFbE_zjLSI4wl4PtWwaUpsMmmB9Uh4GSNQeHZZi6sEfah7-c3874MyfZXzgiObelB576M/s1600/111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1444" data-original-width="994" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSJkUeK5v7nN09sAMP_hoJ7aXhsTB1E75rMTp4BguAkNpTBK5ASsuCWJrn3hyphenhyphenywazVV7Is_ONFbE_zjLSI4wl4PtWwaUpsMmmB9Uh4GSNQeHZZi6sEfah7-c3874MyfZXzgiObelB576M/s400/111.jpg" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Programme of the first production of<br />The Party by Jane Arden</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jane Arden was born in Newport, South Wales, and went to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art when she was fifteen. After a period in repertory she went to America and lived in Greenwich Village "looking around absorbing all I could - looking for new ideas". It was while there that she first began writing seriously. She returned to England because she could only "write out of my own background". Charles Laughton happened to see the unfinished script of <i>The Party</i>, and immediately wanted to act in it. According to the author, he nagged her until the play was completed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The play was first performed on Wednesday May 28th, 1958, with a cast that included Charles Laughton, Albert Finney, Elsa Lanchester, Ann Lynn and John Welsh.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ann Lynn and Albert Finney in<br />The Party by Jane Arden</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Elsa Lanchester and John Welsh in<br />The Party by Jane Arden<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-51793587445211155152019-04-21T01:32:00.001-07:002019-04-23T02:00:50.192-07:00Colloque sentimental by Paul Verlaine with English translation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Paul Verlaine with Arthur Rimbaud</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Melancholy, sadness, fears, and sentimental yearnings form the heart of much of the work of Paul Verlaine (1844-1896). He could never be regarded as an intellectual, or a thinker. On the contrary, the preoccupation of his poetry is one of naive self-expression. As he said himself: <i>"Art, my children, is to be absolutely oneself."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here is one of his poems, along with our own translation.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">COLLOQUE SENTIMENTAL</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dans le vieux parc solitaire et glac<span style="line-height: 24.7px;">é,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">Deux formes ont tout </span></span><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">à</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"> l'heure pass</span></span><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">é.</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Leurs yeux sont morts et leur l</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-size: large;">è</span></span><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">vres sont molles,</span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Et l'on entend </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">à peine leurs paroles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dans le vieux parc solitaire et glac</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">é,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">Deux spectres ont </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">évoqu</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">é le</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">pass</span></span><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">é.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">- Tu souvient-il de notre extase ancienne?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">- Pourquoi voulez-vous donc qu'il m'en souvienne?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">- Ton coeur bat-il toujours </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">à mon seul nom?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">Toujours vois-tu mon </span><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">âme en r</span></span><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">êve? - Non.</span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">- Ah! les beaux jours de bonheur indicible</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">O</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 24.7px;">ù nous joignions nos bouches! - C'est possible.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">- Qu'il </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">était bleu, le ciel, et grand, l'espoir!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">- L'espoir a fui, vaincu, vers le ciel noir.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">Tels ils marchaient dans les avoines folles,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">Et la nuit suele entendit leurs paroles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">SENTIMENTAL CONVERSATION</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">In the lonely park in the winter's blast,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">Two forms have recently passed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">Their eyes are dead, their lips lifeless too,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">And of the words they spoke were heard barely a few.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">In the lonely park in the winter's blast,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">Two spectres are evoking the past.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">"Do you recall, my sweet, those raptures of old?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">- "Why recall what's already gone cold?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">"Does the sound of my name make your heart beat more?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">Does my soul haunt your dreams still?" - "Not any more."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">"Ah! those happy days of inexpressible glee</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">With our mouths joined together!" - "Possibly."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24.7px;">"How the sky was so blue and our hopes were so high!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">- "Hope has departed, vanquished, in the dark sky."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">So through the wild oats they followed their way,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24.7px;">With only the night to hear what they say.</span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-62989561183157307002019-04-19T06:47:00.002-07:002019-04-19T06:47:29.035-07:00Blue Ones - A medical dialogue<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Doctor’s consultation room. NESS, the doctor, seating behind her desk. JACOB, her patient, comes in.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Take a seat, Jacob. That one there. Is that all right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: So. Any news?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: There is. And I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry about that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Oh, gracious me, there’s no need to be sorry. So what is it? Please, in your own words. And I’ll make notes if I may. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Right, well I’ll just get my pen ready. I shan’t be a moment. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Right, I’m ready. Off you go.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: So… well…. There’s been a development. If I can put it that way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Absolutely. What kind of a development?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Not a very good one, I’m afraid. I’m sorry about that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Oh, you don’t need to be sorry, gracious me, no. A development, you say?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Yes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: What kind of a development?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Not a good one, I’m afraid. It’s er…. Well, how shall I put it? Er…. Do you mind if I take my coat off? Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Absolutely. It is hot in here. Put it on the peg there. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely. <i>(Takes coat off)</i> So, as I was saying, there’s been a development.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Yes, you said. A development, eh?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: So what was it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Well…. I don’t know how to put it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Why not start at the beginning. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely. Well…. It’s like this. Do you remember when we talked last time?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: I do. Absolutely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: And do you remember what I told you last time?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: No. Just remind me, would you? Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely. So, where was I?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Last time. You were telling me about last time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Right. So. Well. Yes, last time. Yes. Absolutely. So, remember I said that I had forgotten to take the pink ones?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Oh, no. Don’t remember that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: You don’t remember?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: No. I’m sorry about that. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely. Anyway….</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: You forgot to take the pink ones?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Yes. I’m sorry about that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Goodness me, there’s no need to be sorry. So you forgot to take the blue ones?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: No. The pink ones.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: The pink ones? Oh, yes. Did I say the blue ones. I’m sorry about it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Oh, there’s no need to be sorry. Absolutely. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Thank you, Jacob. May I call you Jacob? Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: So, the blue ones. You forgot to take the blue ones.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: No. The pink ones.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Oh yes! The pink ones. The pink ones, yes. I’m sorry about that. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely, Ness. May I call you Ness. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Absolutely, Jacob. So. Right. The pink ones, eh?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Yes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Right. Yes. So you forgot to take them, eh?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Yes. I’m sorry about that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: What about the blue ones?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Blue ones?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Yes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: I don’t take any blue ones.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Oh. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: No.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Right. No blue ones, eh?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: No. I’m sorry about that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Oh, goodness me, there’s no need to be sorry. So, you forgot to take the pink ones?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Yes. I’m sorry about that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Anyway, how do you feel?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: How do I feel?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Yes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: How do you mean?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: About not taking the pink ones?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Oh, I’m sorry about that. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Absolutely! But how do you feel? I mean, do you feel all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Oh, good! Absolutely! <i>(Pause) </i>Right, well in that case everything seems to be fine. So I’ll see you again in six months time. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I’ll see you next time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Absolutely! <i>(Puts his coat on)</i> Right, well, until next time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: Bye bye, then. Bye bye. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">JACOB: Bye bye.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Jacob leaves.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">NESS: <i>(alone - to herself)</i> I could have sworn he took blue ones. But he must know what he takes. Absolutely! <i>(Her telephone rings - she listens) </i>Oh, yes, send him in. Absolutely. Send him in. Is that all right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Finis.</i></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-60990113833338037032018-12-24T11:48:00.000-08:002018-12-24T11:49:50.786-08:00Lezione di geografia / Geography Lesson by Pietro Longhi.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Jmx9Zongwn8bPJihQKdl_A1aEy5hlUn_NwovyXXG2uUtc-zZv_u-ZyLk63eZr2PiVUbl9uR_MczpH4Q73NjyAxOyvmhcdEIhGbla20w5iQh16KbzGMsv9eySTotkcQgMoj1OPm54JY7Z/s1600/Pietro-Longhi-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="935" data-original-width="749" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Jmx9Zongwn8bPJihQKdl_A1aEy5hlUn_NwovyXXG2uUtc-zZv_u-ZyLk63eZr2PiVUbl9uR_MczpH4Q73NjyAxOyvmhcdEIhGbla20w5iQh16KbzGMsv9eySTotkcQgMoj1OPm54JY7Z/s400/Pietro-Longhi-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>Lezione di geografia<br />Pietro Longhi</b></span></td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Notice the skeleton atlas on the floor, the gentleman seated i</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">n the easy chair leafing through a ramshackle volume, and the delightful lady, equipped with a compass, measuring the distance on a world map on a small table, while two serving ladies bring coffee.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Guarda l'atlante per terra, il gentiluomo in </i><i>poltrone che sfoglia uno squinternato volume, e la graziosa dama, munita di compasso, che mesura le distanze su una mappamondo da tavolino mentre due cameriere portano il caffe. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Acknowledgement: L'amante senza fissa dimora by </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Carlo Fruttero & Franco Lucentini.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-52807371346816254162018-11-10T05:35:00.000-08:002018-11-10T05:35:17.753-08:00Harmonie sculpture by Antoniucci Volti.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPv1uvPym3ZaxxSo5PSbjMOzxeH534WNyBP6-6YvO99nSXt7yynrqeNURlbVZLymLkOkEixhBtvuEWMQk7l7RFbGEJtHBksLKdlIb27_g0axPjYUHLd8fEqfJdrZF3YgpF9N_OkFjEnrJ/s1600/Scan+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="1359" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPv1uvPym3ZaxxSo5PSbjMOzxeH534WNyBP6-6YvO99nSXt7yynrqeNURlbVZLymLkOkEixhBtvuEWMQk7l7RFbGEJtHBksLKdlIb27_g0axPjYUHLd8fEqfJdrZF3YgpF9N_OkFjEnrJ/s400/Scan+-+Copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Harmonie sculpture by Antoniucci Volti.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">In the 3rd Arrondissment of Paris, at Place Theodor-Herzi, at the intersection of Rue de Turbigo and Rue Reaumur, is the charming sculpture of a sleeping woman entitled <i>Harmonie.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">It is the work of French sculpture Antoniucci Volti (1915-1989) and has had pride of place in the square since 1992.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">If you happen to be passing through the square one day why not pause to say <i>Hello. </i>But <i>Sssh! </i>silently, so as not to wake her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-12807950670571034822018-08-11T02:15:00.000-07:002018-11-13T01:38:49.379-08:00Gambit International Theatre Review 25 - Playscript Issue<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Published in 1974, <i>Gambit International Theatre Review 25 </i>contains two plays: <i>The Speakers </i>by Heathcote Williams, freely adapted for the stage by William Gaskill and Max Stafford-Clark; and <i>Tripe </i>by Lexie Micalef.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>The Speakers </i>is about the lives of authentic speakers at London's Speakers' Corner encountered by Heathcote Williams in the early 1960s and described in his book. The principal characters are William MacGuinness, an Irish speaker high on dope and meths; Jacobus Van Dyn and his tattoos; Axel Ney Hoch, on the run from his own passions; and Lomas, who has not spoken in years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>The Speakers </i>stage adaptation was the inaugural production by Joint Stock Theatre Company.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-36753444547337096412018-05-05T02:31:00.000-07:002018-05-05T02:31:00.961-07:00Pablo Picasso: The play's the thing.... Desire Caught By the Tail.....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">On 14th January 1941, Pablo Picasso began work on his latest creation, a surrealist six-act play which was to prefigure the theatre of the absurd, and to which he gave the title: <i>Le Desir attrap</i></span><span style="line-height: 23.4px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-style: italic;">é</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: italic;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>par la queue (Desire Caught By the Tail). </i>Working rapidly, as was his custom, he completed the play on 16th January 1941.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 23.4px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The scene is set at a Paris hotel in the evening of Tuesday 14th January 1941 with a stage direction indicating that the action takes places in total darkness. The characters are preoccupied with three things: hunger, food and love.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 23.4px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The play was given its first airing on Sunday 19th March 1944 with a reading in the apartment of Picasso's friend Michel Leiris, at 53 bis quai des Grands-Augustin. The all-star cast included Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre and Raymond Queneau, and the director was Albert Camus.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 23.4px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Several months later on 16th June, all those that had participated in the event were invited by Picasso to his apartment, where the celebrated photographer Brassai was also on hand immortalise the gathering.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 23.4px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As for the play itself, its English translator, Bernard Frechtman, wrote in his foreword to his translation:</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 23.4px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>'It says nothing of human destiny or of the human condition.... It is gratifying to advise the reader that Picasso has nothing to say of man, nor of the universe. This in itself is a considerable achievement.'</i></span></span></span></blockquote>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-87791171607132821852018-04-21T05:48:00.004-07:002018-05-07T05:57:47.085-07:00Steely Dan...... better late than never......<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I bought my first Steely Dan album in 1975. A friend at the time, whose musical taste I trusted, told me about it, said it was being released two days later, and unreservedly recommended it. So based on his recommendation, having never even heard of Steely Dan, I bought the album two days later (a Saturday as I recall), went home, and gave it a spin, as we said in those days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The album was <i>Katy Lied, </i>and the opening track, <i>Black Friday, </i>a rocker, didn't exactly bowl me over. The second track, however, entitled <i> Bad Sneakers, </i>with its jazz flavour and unusual lyric, was quite unlike anything I had ever heard before in a pop song. I had absolutely no idea what the song was about, and I still don't, which didn't bother me one little bit. But it struck a cord with me, as did the next track, <i>Rose Darling, </i>with a more accessible lyric about sexual infidelity, or at least the intention of such.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The high point of the album, however, was the track <i>Doctor Wu, </i>with an alto sax solo by Phil Woods. Woods' was a highly accomplished jazz musician, and among his many achievements was a sublime solo on <i>Spoonful, </i>featured on the Gil Evans album of 1964: <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I bought every previous and subsequent album by Steely Dan. Of particular mention is the 1980 release <i>Gaucho, </i>with vocalist Donald Fagen in fine voice, especially on the opening track <i>Babylon Sisters. </i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Also on <i>Gaucho </i>is the track <i>Time out of Mind. '</i>Time out o' mind' is a colloqual expression referring to a time immemorial, and dates from around the middle of the sixteenth century. It was even used by Shakespeare in two of his plays:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Made by a joiner squirrel or old grub,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Time out o' mind the fairies coachmakers...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- <i>Rome</i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>o and Juliet</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>- Measure for Measure</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Finally, this blog has been on the road for over 6 years, and in all that time it has sadly been lacking a post on Steely Dan, an oversight which we are now correcting. Better late than never.....</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-18071214903658304152018-04-15T02:12:00.001-07:002018-04-21T05:13:25.746-07:00Le pont Mirabeau, Paris - the bridge of Guillaume Apollinaire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Pont Mirabeau by Paul Signac</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The <i>Pont Mirabeau </i>across the Seine on the west side of Paris, has been the inspiration of many artists, among them the painter Paul Signac, and the poet Guillaume Apollinaire. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Apollinaire's poem, <i>Le Pont Mirabeau, </i>was first published in February 1912, and was inspired by the departure of his muse Marie Laurencin, and is <i>'the sad song of that long, broken affair'. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The poetic fusion of the images, together with the idea of the fluid movement of the verses, make the poem perfectly harmonious by its simplicity and its purity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">[First verse below]</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Et nos amours</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">La joie venait toujours après la peine</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Les jours s'en vont je demeure</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">The Muse inspiring the Poet<br />(Marie Laurencin and Apollinaire)<br />Painting by Douanier Rousseau (1909)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The bridge was constructed between 1893 and 1896 and is now designated a monument of historic interest.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-24552829330151185272018-04-14T06:22:00.000-07:002018-04-14T06:22:04.002-07:00Darlington West Cemetery..... Trees, trees, trees.....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">March 2018</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-25903015607362910192017-05-07T11:17:00.002-07:002018-11-03T02:47:10.253-07:00Blogging Short Stories #4 - THE LIBRARY CONFERENCE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Colleagues, if I could have your attention!”</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was the occasion of the Annual Library Confer</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">ence and the librarians were gathered together in the Assembly Room at the main library. Dennis, the Chief Librarian, was standing on the platform addressing the assembly.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> On the platform with Dennis, in a seat around a large occasional table, was a lady in a blue trouser suit with a look of importance on her face.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Dennis continued.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Thank you. We are pleased and honoured to have with us today as our special guest the Minister of Culture, one of whose responsibilities in government is the promotion of public libraries.” He turned to the lady. “Minister, welcome.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Applause from the room. The lady nodded her head. Dennis took his place in a seat next to her at the table.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Minister, as you know there has been, and indeed there continues to be, much upheaval in public libraries today up and down the country. Many libraries have been forced to close completely, others have been constrained to reduced their opening hours, sometimes to only several hours a week. Can I ask you this question to begin with. Is your government committed to public libraries and what importance do you place on them as part of our cultural life?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The minister cleared her throat.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Well let me first of all thank you for inviting me here today. The priority facing the government today, of course, is the <i>appalling state of the economy </i>which we inherited from the previous administration. Getting the books balanced is and <i>must be</i> the main focus of the government’s attention. And I can tell everyone here today that a great many steps have already been taken to achieve this aim. What we need, what we must have, is a <i>strong and stable economy</i> in order to stimulate growth and attract overseas investment. And I can assure you all that this is exactly what my friend the Chancellor of the Exchequer is giving all his attention to.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “But can you also say that the future of public libraries is high on the government’s list of priorities?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “What I can say is that the first priority of the government must be re-establishing the economy and stimulating growth. As I travel up and down the country talking to people, the thing they ask me more than anything else is: ‘Are you focusing your main effort on creating a <i>strong and stable economy </i>after the disaster of the previous lot?’ And let me assure everyone here that this is precisely what we are doing.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “But what about public libraries, minister? Local government has been forced to close libraries due to lack of funding from central government. Will you do anything about that? For instance, will you guarantee that local government will receive more funding for our public libraries?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “What I can categorically guarantee is that the principal focus of the government - and I think I can say that the whole cabinet is united in this - the principal focus, I say, is getting our economy onto a <i>strong and stable</i> footing. That is absolutely what we are focused on. And in my many journeys up and down the country, this is precisely what people ask me about. These are <i>hard working people</i> that I’m talking about. <i>Hard working people</i>. And it is exactly <i>hard working people</i> and their families that this government is working to help.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “But what about public libraries, minister?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Yes, well I’m coming to that. I just thought it was important to make the point about the appalling state of the economy that we inherited from the previous administration. As for the state of our public lavatories….”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Just then a delegate jumped up from his seat.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>“Libraries! Not lavatories! Libraries! What are you going to do about our libraries?”</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Dennis stood up.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “All right, Tim, calm down. Just sit down and we’ll…”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Tim sat down. The minister turned towards Dennis.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “But there are lavatories in the libraries, aren’t there, Derek?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Dennis. My name is Dennis, minister.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Whatever. I mean, I couldn’t imagine a library without a lavatory. Or a lavatory without a library for that matter. That’s certainly the case with my husband who does a lot of his reading in the lavatory. So in a sense you could say that his lavatory is also his library.” She laughed, but there was silence from the room. She continued: “But anyway, joking aside, let’s not lose sight of what we’re here for…. what we’re here for….” She whispered to Dennis. “What are we here for?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Dennis, trying not to lose his composure, said calmly to the minister: “What we’re asking, minister, is will the government provide addition financial aid to local councils so that they can maintain the library services they offer to the public?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Ah, right! Well, what I will provide, and what I am happy now to provide, and I can confidently say that my colleagues in government are behind me 100% on this, is that we will er….. er…. we will keep our minds focused in respect of all…. and indeed, everything, that needs to be done to create a <i>strong and stable </i>framework on which we can build the kind of country that <i>hard working people </i>up and down the land want to see for themselves and their families. And indeed when I am travelling around the country myself, this is exactly what they say to me. In fact, many of you seated in this room today will have voted for my party.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>“Not any more!”</i> a voice boomed from the gathering.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was immediately followed by another voice: <i>“Ask her if she ever reads a book!”</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There was laughter and applause. Another voice called out: <i>“Ask her if she knows how to read!”</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> More laughter and raucous applause. Dennis once more tried to calm down his colleagues.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “OK, Miranda, that’s fine.” He turned to the minister. “But, in fact, it’s a good question. Do you read books, minister?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Of course I do. Up and down the country, where I do a lot of travelling, I read constantly. Only today on my journey up here on the train I was reading a leading think tank report on the state of our economy which praised the government’s efforts of creating a <i>strong and stable economy</i> to undo the damage done by the previous administration to the livelihoods of <i>hard working people</i> up and down the land.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “But what about the libraries, minister? Will you support local government in their endeavours to preserve our public libraries?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The minister adopted a grave and sombre tone and expression.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Well, of course, this government recognises how vitally important public libraries are to the fabric of our country. They provide a vital service to poor and disadvantaged families, such as books, access to computers, as well as being a hub where young people can meet to discuss table tennis, and where the elderly can go to read the newspapers in a peaceful and er… quietful… environment. They are a legacy of the Victorians, who founded libraries at the time of the Victorians, and who, like the current government, valued knowledge and culture, and who saw libraries as a way of reaching out to others in their community. Libraries are an essential part of a civilised nation, and their welfare will always be at the heart of this government’s priorities.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Dennis applauded.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “That’s excellent, minister!” </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Dennis looked to the room for support. But no one joined in his applause. He turned once more to the minister.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “So, minister, can you tell us what your government will do to help public libraries? Because I can tell you that we are in crisis.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “And the prime minister is just the person to handle a crisis. Do you know what he does, the prime minister, whenever a crisis occurs?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A voice called out: <i>“He goes shooting pigeons in Norfolk!”</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Laughter and cheers rang out around the room.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The minister continued.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “No, now that’s unfair. The prime minister is a very hard working, dedicated, and conscientious man. Let me just tell you all what he said to me the other day. ‘Doris,’ he said - because that’s my name - ‘Doris, life is a bloody wonderful thing, Doris!’ I said: ‘You’re right there, Geoff.’ And up and down the country this is precisely what <i>hard working people </i>say to me. And they tell me that life is a bloody wonderful thing because of the work and dedication that the prime minister and his government are doing to reverse the damage done to our economy by the previous administration and create a <i>strong and stable economy</i> for the benefit of everyone and not just the privileged few.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i> “It was in the papers that you and Geoff had an extra-marital affair!”</i> a voice shouted from the room.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>“That’s a dirty lie!”</i> the minister shouted back.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The delegates laughed and jeered the minister. Dennis stood up and gestured with his arms for everyone to calm down. He then turned to the minister.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Minister…”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Yes, Donald?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>“Dennis! My name’s Dennis.”</i> There was creeping irritation in his voice. “Minister, what we all want to know, and what I’ve been trying to get you to tell us since we began, is your assurance that the government will provide sufficient funding to local councils to enable them to provide a high quality of library service to their citizens. As Culture Minister, minister, will be provide that assurance?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The minister addressed the assembly and tried to speak in a calm and controlled manner.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Ladies and gentlemen, I know things are hard. I know because I’ve been there myself. I know you all may think that government ministers like myself, caring for the country that they love so much, striving with every breath in their bodies to do all they can to help <i>hard working families </i>make ends meet, to help them recover from all the catastrophic mistakes of the previous administration, I know you may all think that we seem remote and distant from the everyday concerns of ordinary, simple people like yourselves. But it isn’t true! It isn’t true at all! Let me give you an example of it. Just recently the whole of the cabinet, myself, the prime minister, the deputy prime minister, and all the others, were gathered together for a weekend slaughtering pigeons on the prime minister’s estate in Norfolk. There was a chill in the air, I remember. But as I was…..”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The minister was interrupted with a chorus of cries from around the conference room.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>“She’s waffling! Someone put her out of her misery!”</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i> “Come on, Doris. Never mind the sound bites - What about the libraries! What about the libraries! What about the libraries!”</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The delegates picked up on the refrain and repeated it in chorus while clapping their hands.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>“WHAT ABOUT THE LIBRARIES! WHAT ABOUT THE LIBRARIES! WHAT ABOUT THE LIBRARIES!”<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> On the platform, the Culture Minister sat tense and motionless in her seat, seething with anger. Some delegates swore they could see smoke coming out of her ears. Then she suddenly rose to her feet, went to the foot of the platform, and screamed aloud: <i>“Now listen to me you….you…..”</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Her outburst was cut short by a volley of eggs followed by the raucous sounds of laughing and cheering.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The vocal avalanche continued until, finally, the Chief Librarian got up from his seat and addressed his colleagues.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “All right, let’s everyone just calm down. OK? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Everyone just stay calm. Remember those training courses we’ve been on. Remember them? How to remain calm in stressful situations. How to keep our sang froid. We’re professionals, remember? And we handle all situations, whatever they may be, in a cool and professional manner. Now can we all just remember that, please?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The minister, egg yolk running down her face, turned to the Chief Librarian.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Thank you. But I think we should end this meeting right now, Desmond.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Chief Librarian exploded.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i>“IT’S DENNIS! MY NAME’S F**KING DENNIS!” </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> He then grabbed the government minister by the throat, pulled her to her knees, and began to throttle her.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The delegates went silent, stared in amazement. Then two of the library janitors clambered onto the platform and wrestled the Chief Librarian onto the floor and dragged him away from the minister.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The minister got herself back onto her feet.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Well, that’s just… I don’t know…. throttling a government minister…. whatever next?…. wherever I’ve gone…. up and down the country…. talking to hard working people…. I’ve been heckled at times, yes…. I’ve even had projectiles slung at me…. but no one has ever tried to throttle me….. this is most unseemly…. Where’s that husband of mine?” She then called out in the high-pitched voice that she normally reserved for whipping junior ministers with: <i>“Gerald! Gerald!”</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A sound was heard from the back of the room. The librarians moved aside to reveal a gentleman in a tweet suit, his tie undone, his shirt ends sticking out of his trousers, staggering forward with a half-empty bottle of whisky in his hand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Yesh, my love?” He hiccupped.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “We’re leaving!” the minister said. “Get me out of this….. nest of discord!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Yesh, my love.” He hiccupped again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Culture Minister and Gerald helped one another to the door and out of the conference room amid a loud cheer from the delegates. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> By now Dennis had regained his composure. He called for calm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Thank you, colleagues. Excitement over. If you could now organise yourselves into groups of six we’ll carry on with the next item on the agenda. Which is…” He consulted his notes. “Which is…. ‘How to increase issues.’” There was a groan from the librarians. “So if each group could consider ways in which we can get customers to borrow more books…..”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The librarians did as Dennis asked them to do, and the air of dignity and quiet normality that the public associates with a roomful of librarians descended once more upon the gathering. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>EPILOGUE</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The incident with the Minister of Culture was soon forgotten. More, it was if it had never happened at all, as if it had been nothing more than a dream, a mere fantasy, a manifestation of the collective imagination.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But imagination, too, has it’s reality.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> So who knows?</span></div>
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THE END</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-15584516908062045182017-01-22T01:05:00.000-08:002017-01-22T01:05:04.019-08:00A World Elsewhere says..... Sundays are for loafing, drinking coffee & reading books !<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>loaf</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>v. </i>[no <i>obj</i>] spend one's time in an aimless, idle way</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>loafer</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>n. </i>[<i>mass noun</i>] a person who avoids work and spends their time idly</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-9080793960205233972017-01-15T05:09:00.001-08:002017-01-15T05:22:07.576-08:00Blogging Short Stories #3 - THE STRANGE STORY OF PEOPLE WHO SAY THINGS TWICE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">‘Let me introduce myself, introduce myself. My name’s Roger, Roger, and I have this strange habit, strange habit, of saying the same thing twice, saying the same thing twice.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I was intrigued to know more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘How did it begin?’ I asked him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Well, well,’ Roger said, ‘I’m not sure, I’m not sure. I was quite young at the time, quite young at the time, certainly not old, certainly not old, and I suddenly found myself, suddenly found myself, saying something, saying something, that I’d only just said, only just said.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Gosh,’ I said. ‘Did you see anyone about it?’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘I did, I did,’ Roger said. ‘But there was nothing they could do, nothing they could do. Seems they know very little about it, very little about it. They’re carrying out a study, carrying out a study, to try to find the cause, try to find the cause. But until then, until then, I’m afraid we’re in limbo, afraid we’re in limbo.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘So there’s no treatment for it?’ I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Not at the moment, not at the moment,’ Roger said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘It’s not contagious, is it, contagious is it?’ I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘It can be, it can be,’ Roger said. ‘In fact, in fact, I think you might have caught it, think you might have caught it.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Oh no! oh no!’ I exclaimed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Sorry about that, sorry about that, old boy, old boy,’ Roger said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Just then the train we were travelling on pulled into a station. Two minutes later a young woman approached down the aisle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Excuse me, excuse me,’ the young woman said, ‘is this seat taken, is this seat taken?’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No, no,’ Roger said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Do you mind if I sit here, mind if I sit here?’ the young woman asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Please, please,’ Roger said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> The young woman sat down.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘I shouldn’t be here actually, shouldn’t be here actually,’ she said, ‘but the carriage for people who say things twice, people who say things twice, was full, was full. I hope that’s all right, hope that’s all right?’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘It’s perfectly fine, perfectly fine,’ Roger said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Ah, but I see, but I see, that you say things twice too, that you say things twice too,’ the young woman said. She then turned to me. ‘And what about you, what about you? Do you also say things twice, also say things twice?’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘I never used to, never used to,’ I said. ‘But since I met, since I met, this gentleman, this gentleman, I’m afraid I’ve started, afraid I’ve started.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I looked up and saw the ticket inspector coming towards us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Tickets please, tickets please, for any passengers just boarded, any passengers just boarded!’ announced the ticket inspector.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Oh, I’ve just boarded, I’ve just boarded,’ said the young woman and gave the inspector her ticket.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> The ticket inspector clipped the young woman’s ticket and gave it back to her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Thank you, madam, thank you, madam,’ the ticket inspector said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Oh I say, oh I say, do you say things twice too, inspector, say things twice too, inspector?’ the young woman said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Only since I’ve been clicking tickets, clicking tickets, in the carriage reserved, carriage reserved, for people who say things twice, madam, people who say things twice, madam,’ the ticket inspector replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> A that moment an angry gentleman shouted across from the seat opposite.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Inspector, I’m bally sick of all these bally people here saying things twice,’ he said. ‘It’s really bally annoying for us “normal” people who only bally say things once. I demand that you bally well do something about it.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Is that a congenital problem of yours, sir, congenital problem of yours. sir?’ asked the inspector.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Is what a bally congenital problem of mine, you bally idiot?’ asked the gentleman.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Saying the word bally all the time, word bally all the time,’ said the inspector.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Oh really!’ said the bally gentleman, and slunk back into his bally seat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> The train pulled into another station.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Well this is where I get off, this is where I get off,’ I said. ‘It’s been nice talking to you all, talking to you all. But I do hope I get over this, get over this, saying thing twice all the time, saying things twice all the time.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I got off train and out of the station. There was a taxi waiting in the small taxi rank. I got into the back and the driver pulled off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I took out my mobile phone and pressed a button.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Where to, sir,?’ asked the taxi driver.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I gave the driver the address twice, and then spoke into the phone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Alice? Alice? It’s me, it’s me. I should be back soon, darling, back soon, darling. But I should tell you, should tell you, that you may notice, may notice, a change in me, change in me. I’m afraid that I’ve started, started, saying things twice, saying things twice. ………. What? What? I said I’ve started to say things twice, started to say things twice. ……… Where did I get, where did I get it, did you say, did you say? Well, I just picked it up, picked it up, talking to a gentleman, talking to a gentleman, on the train, on the train. Oh, and I should just warn you, should just warn you, that it can be contagious, that it can be contagious. …….. What do mean how does it spread, how does it spread? By word of mouth, obviously, by word of mouth, obviously. How else could it spread, how else could it spread? ………. What do you mean, what do you mean, will it effect our marriage, effect out marriage? Why should it effect our marriage, effect our marriage? ………. Your mother, your mother, did you say, did you say? What would it have to do, what would it have to do, with your mother, with your mother? ………. Calm down, Alice, calm down, Alice. I was not making, not making, a derogatory comment, derogatory comment, about your mother, about your mother. I was simply saying, simply saying….. ……… Yes, I know, I know, we could have a more straightforward conversation, straightforward conversation, if I only said things once, only said things once. …….. What? What? But there are lots of people, lots of people, who say things twice, say things twice. I met three on the train, three on the train, just now, just now. They even have a special carriage, special carriage, reserved for people, reserved for people, who say things twice, say things twice. …….. No, I haven’t been drinking, haven’t been drinking! ……… I tell you I was on a train just now, on a train just now, where people were saying things twice, saying things twice, and that there was a special carriage, special carriage, for…...for….. Alice? Alice? Are you there? Are you there?’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> But the line had gone dead. I sat back in my seat. I was seething, seething. I noticed the taxi driver looking at me in his rear-view mirror.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Couldn’t help but hearing what you said just now, said just now,’ said the taxi driver, ‘because I get that too, I get that too.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Get what too, get what too?’ I asked him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Saying things twice, saying things twice,’ said the taxi driver.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘But when I got in your cab, when I got in your cab, and you asked me where to, asked me where to, you only said it once, only said it once,’ I said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘That’s because I was fighting against it, fighting against it,’ said the taxi driver. ‘But why should I do that, why should I do that? I mean, I mean, just because we’re in a minority, just because we’re in a minority. But we’re just as good as what they are, just as good as what they are? Ain’t that right, guv, ain’t that right, guv? But they look down on us, look down on us, just because they say things only once, say things only once. Well it ain’t right, guv, it ain’t right!’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘By Gad you’re right, by Gad you’re right!’ I said. ‘Why should we be second-class citizens, second-class citizens, just because we say things twice, say things twice? On the contrary, on the contrary, we should be proud of what we are, proud of what we are! We should hold our heads high, hold our heads high, look them in the eye, look them in the eye, and loudly proclaim, loudly proclaim: “Yes, we may say things twice, say things twice! Yes, you may look down on us, look down on us, because you only say things once, only say things once! But we are what we are, are what we are! So get used to it, chum, get used to it, chum!”’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Get used to it, chum, get used to it, chum!’ echoed the taxi driver.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘And we should boycott, boycott, segregated carriages on trains, segregated carriages on trains, for people who say things twice, people who say things twice!’ I continued in full flow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Boycott, boycott!’ said the taxi driver.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Justice I say, justice I say, for all people, all people, whoever they are, whoever they are, wherever they are, wherever they are, whether they say things once, say things once, or whether they say things twice, say things twice, for we are all equal, all equal, indivisible, indivisible, and free, free!’ I exclaimed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Hallelujah, hallelujah!’ proclaimed the taxi driver.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I lay back in my seat. I felt exhausted and at the same time exhilarated, like there was a fire inside me, a fire inside me! And I felt the motion of the taxi carrying me forward and onward to a bold new future in which people are judged not by the way they speak, whether they say things once or whether they say things twice, but by what is inside their hearts when they say it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">THE END THE END</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-81864544956496551242017-01-09T07:31:00.000-08:002017-01-11T11:09:46.541-08:00Reminiscences of a Cool Shakespearean <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>2014 production of The Two Gentlemen of Verona<br />Royal Shakespeare Company</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I was about 18 years old when I bought my first <i>Complete Works</i>. I remember it well, a hardback book with a plain cover; thick, poor quality paper which quickly became tacky; and tiny print with no footnotes. It was absolutely the worst<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>My original Othello<br />Cambridge Shakespeare</b></span></td></tr>
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kind of books to begin an exploration of the works of the Bard. But I suppose that I must have persisted for at some point I graduated to individual editions of several of the plays. The Cambridge Shakespeare, with their red covers and a drawing of Shakespeare by Picasso, were my preferred editions, and I remember purchasing <i>Hamlet, As You Like It, Troilus and Cressida, Othello, Richard III</i>, and perhaps several more that I no longer recall. I carried my copy of <i>Hamlet</i> around with me for so long and read it so much that it literally fell to pieces. I particularly liked the prose scenes with their lively, witty, esoteric dialogue, such as Hamlet’s assertion that he was ‘<i>but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.</i>’ </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">2.2.347</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I now have a copy of <i>Hamlet</i> from The New Cambridge Shakespeare with a footnote explaining that ‘handsaw’ has been interpreted as ‘hershaw’, a kind of heron, and ‘hawk’ as a plasterer’s tool so named. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I don’t know why I bought <i>Troilus and Cressida</i>, that strange ‘problem play’ set in the Trojan wars with its anti-war, anti-heroism sentiment, so different to Homer’s Iliad. It was only later that I read the other ‘problem plays’: <i>Alls Well That Ends Well</i>; and <i>Measure for Measure</i>, a play of sexual permissiveness in Vienna, in which a phoney monk (the Duke of Vienna in disguise) proposes marriage to a nun (Isabella, the play’s neurotic heroine), and a convicted murderer refuses to attend his own execution. A problem play indeed!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I also at this time saw my first theatrical production of <i>Hamlet</i>. It was presented by the Prospect Theatre Company with Ian McKellen as Hamlet, John Woodvine as Claudius, Faith Brook as Gertrude, James Cairncross as Polonius, and Susan Fleetwood as Ophelia. McKellen was the evident star with posters of him on sale in the foyer for 50 pence. But, alas, his Hamlet failed to impress at least one critic, who wrote of his: ‘sudden shuddering emphasis of lines which seem to bear little or no relationship to his or any other interpretation of the play.’ The same critic, however, praised Susan Fleetwood’s verse speaking as ‘graceful and true’, and thanked Faith Brook for her interpretation of Gertrude as a drunkard ‘ready to sign up with Alcoholics Anonymous’. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Ian McKellen as Hamlet<br />Prospect Theatre</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was many years before I saw another production of <i>Hamlet</i>. It was in period costume, though in one scene Hamlet was strangely watching TV. I would need to refer anyone to the play’s director for an explanation of that one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I bought many more individual editions of the plays, but I didn’t acquire another <i>Complete Works</i> until the Compact Edition of the Oxford Shakespeare of 1988. This controversial edition printed the plays not as they believed Shakespeare wrote them, but as they believed they were performed in the playhouses at the time, since Shakespeare (and others) made alternations during rehearsals or early performances. Some of the alterations were quite shocking to Shakespeare purists, of which I at the time was sadly one. I was particularly outraged by Gertrude’s line in <i>Hamlet</i>:<i> ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks’</i>, being transformed in the Oxford edition to: <i>‘The lady protests too much. methinks.’ </i>No doubt the editors had sound scholarship on their side. But take it from me, dear reader, it was definitely not cool. And neither did the tomfoolery end there. The Oxford editors also decided that the forest in <i>As You Like It</i> was not the forest of Arden in Shakespeare’s native county of Warwickshire, but the forest of Ardenne in France. A travesty! Revolutions have been fought over less!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A new edition of the <i>Oxford Shakespeare Complete Works</i> was published in 2016 and is proving to be equally as controversial as its 1988 predecessor. Its most publicised claim is that Shakespeare had a collaborator in the writing of the all three parts of <i>Henry VI</i>, namely his chief rival Christopher Marlowe.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>My most memorable As You Like It<br />Kate Buffery as Rosalind</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My interest in Shakespeare has now become a kind of ‘gentlemanly hobby’ (to borrow a quote from Anthony Burgess) and I am building up a collection of editions of <i>The New Cambridge Shakespeare</i> (whose covers now depict a portrait of Shakespeare by David Hockney). I very occasionally participate in the hashtag #ShakespeareSunday on Twitter, in which participants are asked to tweet their favourite Shakespeare quotes on a given theme. I usually avoid reading biographies and critical studies on the plays but can recommend the following:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">James Shapiro - 1599: A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare. An examination of Shakespeare's plays of 1599 against a background of contemporary events which Professor Shapiro believes influenced the dramatist's writing at the time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Charles Nicholl - The Lodger: Shakespeare on Silver Street. A fascinating study of Shakespeare at his only known address in London and the domestic drama that unfolded.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-28048164526472095512016-11-30T11:13:00.000-08:002016-11-30T11:15:21.993-08:00A World Elsewhere presents..... Gelato italiano / Italian ice cream<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8090287936167820877.post-8063963464625901812016-07-05T12:00:00.002-07:002020-08-08T13:31:14.870-07:00Blogging Short Stories #2 - A MAN OF MYSTERY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">His name was Bernard. I knew that much about him. At least I thought I did.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> He lived in a flat on the top floor of a low rise block opposite my own. He was about sixty years old, six feet tall and of heavy build. The blinds of his flat were almost always down, but occasionally his kitchen blinds would be up and I could sometimes see him moping about, cleaning up the slops, perhaps, or preparing a culinary treat. Sometimes I saw him leaving or returning to his flat. He walked with his arms hanging lankly by his sides and his head lowered to the ground. His walk was slow and orderly, never looking around him or at passers-by, his gaze fixed on the ground in front. He invariably had a haversack on his back and an outdoor coat, with a heavy pair of boots. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I called him 'a man of mystery', and became intrigued, one might even say, obsessed with wanting to know who he was and what he did, particularly as he sometimes disappeared for days at a time. I knew he was away because at night there was not the tiniest light from behind the chinks in the drawn blinds. Where was he on these occasions, I wondered. <i>‘Where are you, O man of mystery? Where are you?’ </i> I finally had to admit that my obsession was driving me slightly insane, and that the only remedy would be to find out who is and where he goes. But how to do that? And then events surprisingly took a turn. And it happened at a most inopportune time, at 4 a.m. on a Thursday morning.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I had got up for my nocturnal visit to the bathroom when I noticed that Bernard’s bedroom and living room were lit up behind the blinds. Then I watched as his kitchen light came on and he came into the kitchen from the living room. He was wearing his outdoor coat. He did something in the kitchen and then went back into the living room, but the living room curtains were drawn so that my only view of the living room was through his open kitchen door. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I stood in my darkened room with my eyes transfixed on Bernard’s flat. Where was he going? And at four in the morning? I scanned the street to see if a taxi was waiting, but all was still and quiet. I maintained my surveillance. After about ten minutes he came back into his kitchen, then seconds later I saw the kitchen light extinguished and his shadow as he went back into the still-lighted living room. But a few seconds later the living room light too was extinguished with only the bedroom light glowing behind the blinds. Then that went out. The man of mystery was on the move.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I kept my eyes peeled on the stairwell of his flat. And sure enough, about one minute later, I saw him come out onto the stairwell and make his slow way down the stairs. I looked at the street, but there was still no sign of a taxi. There was a bus stop at the corner, but no buses until about six-thirty. When he stepped out of the building I could see that he had his haversack on his back, though it did not appear to have much in it, almost empty in fact. He walked slowly past the row of parked cars, his head lowered, his arms by his sides, turned right, and made his way up the small bank towards my block. I went to the window so I could see him pass. His face was passive, giving nothing away. If he had looked in my direction he could not fail to have seen my silhouette at the window. Then he disappeared from view.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I was nonplussed (the word is not too strong), and stood for about five minutes while I tried to assess what I had witnessed. But I was very tired, so I did my business in the bathroom, had a drink of water (another of my nocturnal habits), and went back to bed.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But I could not sleep. A million questions were swirling inside my head. Where was he headed at this unearthly hour? Was he having a night stroll? But why the haversack? There was a supermarket about 2 miles distance which stayed open around the clock. Maybe he worked there, stacking shelves or collecting trolleys. But do they stack shelves and collect trolleys at 4 o’clock in morning? I put the idea to one side and looked for another answer. And I suddenly remembered the metro station.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Of course! He’s catching an early morning flight!’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But where to? And why didn’t he organise a taxi to take him to the airport? Certainly it would cheaper to use the metro. And where was his luggage if he was jetting off somewhere? An almost empty haversack could hardly be called luggage. But that would depend on how long he was planning to be away. If it was only two or three days then a change of socks and linen would be all he would need. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I lay on my back thinking of all the possible scenarios until mercifully I fell asleep.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The next morning my mind was still preoccupied with the man of mystery’s mysterious nocturnal departure. I reconsidered all the possible options I had thought of, and became convinced that the airport option was the most likely. So I booted up my tablet to do some research. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There were two early morning flights, both at 7 a.m., one to Amsterdam and one to Paris. Which of the two would he be more likely to choose? Unfortunately I knew almost nothing about him. I had spoken to him on only one occasion when I saw him on the street. We talked for about 2-3 minutes with myself doing most of the talking. He spoke with a very soft voice, which seemed to belie his physical appearance, and I had to strain my ears to hear what he was saying. Not that he said anything of significance, indeed I am unable to remember a single thing that he did say. So there was nothing from that brief encounter to enable me to deduce which he favoured the most, the canals of Amsterdam or the boulevards of Paris. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But I became convinced in my mind that that it was either towards Amsterdam or Paris that he was currently cruising at 30,000 feet and 500 miles per hour.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But which of the two would it be?</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Then, suddenly, mirabile dictu, I had a flash of inspiration. I had been in Paris myself about a year earlier and had stayed in a hotel at Porte de Clignancourt in the north of the city. Maybe Bernard owns a small apartment, or possible a studio, at Porte de Clignancourt, and this is the hideaway to which he habitually disappears. I had to admit that the notion had its attractions. For one thing it would explain the flimsy haversack that he carried with him. Why would he need to take luggage when he had a wardrobe and a chest of drawers of personal effects in his studio-apartment at Porte de Clignancourt (I had decided that his Paris residence would be a studio-apartment). It all seemed to hang together, albeit in an illogical, even ludicrous way. Maybe I was getting desperate. But I decided to banish all logic from my mind and go along with it.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the days that followed I kept a ‘watching brief’, as I called it, on Bernard’s flat. By the following Wednesday morning nothing had changed. The living room and bedroom blinds were still lowered, and the kitchen blinds still opened. I decided to put the whole business out of my mind as much as I could. To forget all about Bernard. Fate, however, had other plans for me. For on that same Wednesday morning I got into a conversation with a neighbour who lived in Bernard’s block and on the same stairwell.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I don’t know the lady’s name. She was middle-aged and a little on the plump side. She was already standing at the bus stop when I got there, just the two of us. We began chatting about this and that, nothing in particular, the weather mainly, and then out of the blue I said to her: 'I haven't seen much of Bernard lately. Have you?' She looked at me. 'Who?' she said. 'Bernard,' I said. 'Who's he?' she said. 'Lives in your block,' I said. 'Bernard?' she said. 'Yes,' I said. 'What does he look like?' she said. 'Tall, six foot, well set, early sixties,' I said. 'Oh, him!' she said. 'Yes,' I said. 'His name's not Bernard,' she said. 'Not Bernard?' I said. 'No,' she said. 'So what is it?' I said. 'Gordon,' she said. 'Gordon?' I said. 'Yes,' she said. 'Oh,' I said.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And that was that. Well, what a turn up for the book that was. All the time I had known him, about five years, and I thought his name was Bernard. How could I have got it so wrong? Gordon? I have to confess that he didn’t look like a Gordon. Though I couldn’t recall ever having met a Gordon, so I don’t really know what they are supposed to look like. And I doubt if all Gordons look alike. Maybe the lady got in wrong. Though she seemed so sure. Then I had another inspiration! I would go to the library and check his name on the electoral register.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Alas, the lady was right. His full name was Gordon Shoemaker. An unusual name. But there it was. I was disappointed that his family name was not French, as this would add credence to my belief that he visited Paris. But at least it was a step forward. Or possibly not.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> My day of surprises, however, was not over. For when I got back home I saw that Bernard’s, sorry, Gordon’s, bedroom blinds were up, a clear sign that he was back. But back from where? The man of mystery, I had to confess, was as mysterious as ever.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The following morning, a Thursday, I set my alarm for 4 a.m. so I could keep a watching brief to see if he had departed (I almost wrote absconded) as he had the previous Thursday. But there were no lights shining in the any of the rooms of his flat. I maintained my watch until 4.30 a.m. and then went back to bed.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> His bedroom blinds were up at 8 a.m. when I got up, from which I deduced that he was no longer abed. The living room blinds were also drawn, though this was habitual, for indeed I had never seen them open. The kitchen blinds were down. I was sure that they had been up the previous night, and from this I was able to deduce that he had been in the kitchen and lowered them some time before 8 a.m. I went about my business and did not check again until 10.30 a.m. when the bedroom blinds were down and the kitchen blinds were up. This corresponded with the arrangement of the blinds when Gordon had left his flat at 4 a.m. the previous Thursday for his flight to Paris. Did it signify that he was on the move once more and so quickly after his return? I doubted it, but with a man of mystery one can never be sure. And, in fact, by 3.30 p.m. (or possibly earlier) he was back in his flat, a development that I was able to ascertain by the simple fact that his kitchen blinds were now down and his bedroom blinds up.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I maintained my watching brief over the course of the following days and could report (to myself) that everything was ‘normal’. I had a brief shock one day when all of the blinds were down - living room, kitchen, bedroom - and wondered if he was on the trot again. Then, about one hour later, I noticed that the kitchen blinds and bedroom blinds were up. I breathed a sigh of relief for I had no contingency plan for such an impromptu departure. For I had set my mind on the idea that he would plan his departures to a distinct schedule and that this could only be at 4 a.m. on Thursday mornings. And as he had not departed the previous Thursday he would certainly depart the coming Thursday, that is to say two weeks after his first departure. As with all my calculations, nothing permitted me to believe that this would be the case.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> However, I decided that I would be at my station at 4 a.m. on Thursday morning, and duly set my alarm for that time when I retired to my bed on Wednesday night.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was grey and misty when I dragged my body out of my bed at exactly 4 a.m. the following morning. I put on my dressing gown and went into my spare room. My pulse immediately quickened when I saw that Gordon’s bedroom and living room blinds were down and the lights on behind both, and that the kitchen blinds were up. This signalled to me that he was about to leave. But there was no sign of the man of mystery himself. Then, at 4.10 a.m. he suddenly appeared in the kitchen, and dressed for the road to boot.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I had a sudden brainwave that I would follow him and so needed to quickly get dressed. But first I had an overwhelming need to have a pee. So I rushed off to the bathroom, did what I had to do, then splashed some water in the face and went back to my spare room. To my utter dismay I saw Gordon leaving his building, his haversack on his back, wearing his outdoor coat, and watched him walk past the row of cars and then turn right up the short hill at the side of my block. I tore off my dressing gown and went in search of my clothes. And then I stopped short. ‘What’s the point?’ I said. ‘He’s gone, I’ll never catch him now.’ So I went back to bed and tried to put it out of my head until later.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I got up again at 8 a.m., ate some breakfast, then sat down on my living room sofa to take stock and consider my next move. I assumed that Gordon would be away until the following Wednesday, which meant that I had six days to plan my strategy. <i>‘The interim is mine,’</i> as Hamlet said. Six precious days that I must not waste. But what shall I do? What shall I do? My first idea was to break into Gordon’s flat and hack into his computer. Or possibly install a CCTV surveillance camera with a radio link to my own computer in my flat. However, I could see several drawbacks to these actions. For one thing I had never broken into anyone's property in my life and had no real idea how to do it. I knew that I would be incapable of picking the lock, so I discarded any notion of that. I could smash the door in, of course, with a sledge hammer, or one of those battering rams much loved by the police. But such an action would hardly escape the attention of the neighbours. And even if I managed to gain ingress, it was way beyond my competence to hack into someone’s computer. And as for installing CCTV with a radio connection to my flat, needless to say I hadn‘t a clue how to do his. So I rejected all the above as promptly as I had conceived them and tried to think up another plan.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It took two cups of milky tea before I finally came up with a plan - and it was a gem! I decided that what was needed was boots on the ground. I would go to Paris and stake out his apartment, or pied-à-terre as I was now beginning to think of it (I had discarded the notion of a ‘love nest’) at Porte de Clignancourt. After all, if Mohammed won't come to the mountain, the mountain must go to Mohammed! I wasted no time in setting my plan in motion.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I decided he went to Paris every fortnight on the Thursday flight at 7 a.m. So I turned on my wireless router and booted up my laptop. One hour later I had booked my flight, returning the following day, and reserved a room at Porte de Clignancourt in the hotel I had stayed in during my previous sojourn. I felt enlivened, exhilarated even! I even punched the air and shouted aloud: <i>‘The hunt is on and the game’s afoot!’</i> I was so excited that I had to have another cup of tea.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I spent the rest of the morning planning my trip, drawing up a shortlist of the items I would have to take with me. I know I was only going for one night, but it’s the kind of man I am. In the afternoon I purchased some currency, and by the evening I had my bag packed, my documents (including my passport) checked and double-checked, and my 9 p.m. I was ready for the off. The ‘off’, of course, was not for almost two weeks. But I did not want to take any chances. Then, drained of all energy, I repaired to my boudoir for the night.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Gordon returned on schedule the following Wednesday, or at least that is when I saw him in his kitchen. In truth, with his living room blinds permanently drawn, and with what I perceived as his almost perpetual sedentary state when chez lui, he may have been back for one day or even several days. There was even the possibility that he had not been anywhere at all. I tried to put such a suggestion out of my mind. After all, in just over one week from now I would unravel the mystery of the man of mystery for ever. I hunkered down for the long wait.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One week later</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The long wait slowly passed and on the day of my departure I was awakened at 4 a.m. by my alarm clock. I clenched and unclenched my eyes, yawned, stretched my arms, and got out of bed. I had arranged a taxi for 5 a.m. to take me to the airport. I did not want to risk using the metro in case I ran into Gordon as I did not wish to arouse his suspicions.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I went into my spare room and fondly noticed (fondly is not the word but it will do) that Gordon’s flat was fully lit up in all three rooms and that the arrangement of the blinds was in keeping with an imminent departure, viz. living room and bedroom blinds down and kitchen blinds up. At around 4.10 a.m. I watched him come into his kitchen, then go back into his living room, switching off the kitchen light as he went. Two minutes later (4.12 a.m.) I saw the living light extinguished, and three minutes later (4.15 a.m.) the bedroom light too went out. At 4.17 a.m. he appeared on the stairwell.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> All was going exactly as I had planned which filled with confidence. I spent the next 43 minutes getting myself ready for the taxi at 5 a.m. I checked my documents once more, my passport, my currency. I put on my trench coat and picked up my bagpipes, sorry, shoulder bag, picked up my shoulder bag. In case of inclement weather I decided to also wear my bush hat. I was growing concerned when 5.10 a.m. arrived but the taxi had not come, and was on the point of phoning the taxi company when my own telephone rang. It was the taxi driver. I checked that everything was turned off and then went downstairs.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We arrived at the airport at 5.30 a.m., ninety minutes before my flight. I didn’t need to check-in any hold luggage, so I rushed straight to Security. I hunched up my body in an attempt to make myself as small as possible in an attempt to minimise the chances of being spotted by Gordon. I showed my boarding pass and joined the long queue snaking round the room. I assumed that Gordon would have arrived long before me and would therefore be waiting in the queue ahead of me. I raised my head and scanned the passengers waiting patiently in front, but there was no sign of him. ‘He’s probably already in the departure lounge,’ I said to myself.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It took 20 minutes to get through security check. Once in the departure lounge I settled myself in a seat at the periphery of the area but within sight of a boarding screen. As an extra precaution I put on a pair of dark glasses that I had brought with me. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Our flight was on time and we were finally instructed to proceed to the boarding gate. I waited an extra 10 minutes before making my way down.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The boarding gate lounge was crowded by the time I got there but I managed to find a vacant seat. I still had not spotted Gordon. But I was unperturbed by this, indeed I welcomed it on the bizarre logic that if I had not spotted him then he had not spotted me, though I would have been difficult to miss in my trench coat, bush hat and dark glasses. But that's human nature for you. A wonderful thing all right. At least I've heard people say that it is.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> After a wait of about 15 minutes, handicapped and elderly passengers, and those with priority boarding, were called to make their way to the gate. When the rest of us were called I ensured that I was the last to go through the gate.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The plane was parked right outside the boarding gate. I boarded at the rear entrance and was seated in what seemed to be the last free seat aboard. Seated next to me was a rather plumb, young woman, with a large bag full of jelly babies in her hand.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I looked down the aircraft to see if I could spot the back of Gordon’s head. The lady next to me held out her bag of jelly babies.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Like one?’ she asked.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No, thank you,’ I replied. ‘I’m trying to give them up.’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Go on, take on,’ the lady persisted.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No thank you,’ I replied again.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘They’re nice. Go on, try on,’ the lady said.</span><br />
<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The lady persisted, so much so that I began to suspect that her jelly babies contained a substance that she was endeavouring to insinuate into my system in order to frustrate me in the pursuit of my mission. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Still she persisted, until finally, my patience stretched to the limit, I was constrained to tell her where she could put her jelly babies.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The plane began to taxi and then we were airborne. To my surprise and delight the lady next to me fell asleep almost immediately and remained that way for the entire flight.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We arrived on time and the plane stopped on the apron where buses were waiting to take us to the terminal building. It was at the queue at passport control that I hoped to espy Gordon. But fate transpired once more to frustrate my plans, for all passengers were required to disembark through the door at the front of the plane only. As I was seated at the very back this meant a full 15 minutes delay before I got off the plane. By the time I arrived at passport control there was no sign of my quarry.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I hastened out of the terminal and made my way to the railway station. As I neared the station I noticed there was an express bus at a small bus station with a destination sign GARE DE L‘EST. I needed to be at the Gare du Nord, but the two are almost next to each other, so I decided to hop on the bus, hoping to reach the Gare du Nord before Gordon and thereby head him off at the proverbial pass. So I paid the driver and took a seat in the almost empty bus. To my joy we pulled out almost at once. <i>‘Hurrah! Hurrah! Tally-ho!’</i> I almost heard myself call out. If I'd had a hunter's horn I swear that I would have blown it.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> My elation was short lived. Almost immediately after leaving the airport we turned off into an industrial park and the bus filled up with workers. This was repeated several more times as the bus emptied and filled up again, and it took a full hour to reach the Gare de l’Est. Once there I hurried to the Gare du Nord, bought a metro ticket to Porte de Clignancourt, and squeezed myself aboard a crowded train. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was midday when I stepped out of the metro station at Porte de Clignancourt. But where should I go now? I had to admit that I had not formulated a plan to deal with this eventuality, so confident had I been of eyeballing Gordon at Charles de Gaulle Airport and tracking him at a discrete distance to his pied-à-terre. I would now have to rely on instinct, hunch and intuition, qualities which I had to admit had never been my strong points. In addition, the streets around me seemed so confusing with people and cars rushing past <i>à la Parisienne</i>. I was also desperately hungry as I had not eaten for over seven hours. So I decided to find a place where I could have a pizza.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Suddenly my fortunes improved. I came across a café-restaurant with a terrace, and right across the road was a large apartment block. Of course I had absolutely no reason to believe that this was the block in which Gordon was now lounging on a chaise-longue and sipping an aperitif. But it seemed to kill two birds with one stone. I could have a pizza and watch the block at the same time, observing the tenants as they went in and out. ‘Yes, I like it!’ I said to myself. And even added: ‘What’s not to like?’ even though I hate the bloody cliché and want to clench my fists and scream aloud every time I hear it. <i>'What's not to like?'</i> Ugggh!!</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I took a seat under a canopy in a position which afforded a good view of the entrance to the apartment block whilst at the same time providing concealment from anyone peering down at the café from one of the windows or balconies. There was a counter just behind me at which a waiter was shucking oysters. I put on my dark glasses. The waiter at the counter came and took my order of a pizza quatro stagioni, beer, and mineral water non-gazeuse. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There was too much salt in the pizza but I ate it and it filled a gap. I spent the next two hours keeping the block under surveillance. In that time only a handful of people went in or came out. I wondered if there was another entrance. I was also getting long looks from the waiter, and so I decided to redeploy to another location. The rest of the afternoon and well into the evening was spent staking out apartment blocks which were conveniently located close to terraced cafés. I maintained close surveillance on one block for almost two hours, scrupulously recording everyone that went in and came out, before realising it was an office building. Finally, as it was getting dark, I decided to make my way to my hotel.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> As I was making my merry way, I mean my weary way, and was reaching my destination (which I remembered from my earlier stay), I suddenly heard the piercing sound of klaxons approaching from behind me. I turned around just as two fire engines roared past with their lights flashing. ‘Goodness!’, I said to myself. ‘Hope it’s nothing too serious.’ The fire engines disappeared around a corner and the klaxons immediately went silent. And then it dawned on me that around the corner was exactly where my……..</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I hurried around the corner and stood fixated in a state of stupefaction as I watched billows of black smoke gushing out of the windows of my hotel, with guests being helped out with blankets over their shoulders. I belched forth a mouthful of crude obscenities and kicked over a litter bin, screamed some more, then turned my back and skulked away.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I checked out a couple of hotels in the neighbourhood but they were both full. So I went into the city centre and tried a couple more. <i>‘Complet, monsieur.’</i> By now midnight was approaching. But despite the late hour, cars were still rushing past, their horns honking, their radios blaring. Man's most pernicious crime, in my view, among a litany of many, is his incessant frenzy to pollute the silence of the universe, and especially that of the night. And this perhaps accounts for my fascination with Gordon, my perception of him as one who prefers his own silence to the clamour around him.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> No sooner had I made this minute observation than I heard a mighty roar of thunder followed almost instantaneously by a torrential downpour. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I was near the river when the heavens opened and scurried down onto the embankment and the shelter of a bridge. As I settled myself down I noticed that there were a number of inert bodies in sleeping bags at the opposite end of the bridge. But I was too weary to be concerned as I could feel my eyes getting more and more heavy. So I lay down and tried to get some sleep.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When I awoke several hours later I saw a figure standing right above me, a man with a hooded coat, the hood concealing most of his head, his dark eyes peering out at me, his chin unshaven and of Middle Eastern countenance. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We regarded one another with a mixture of silence and suspicion, then the man, in heavily accented English, and in the blunt tone of a man unskilled in the nuances of speaking a language in which he is barely literate, said: ‘What country from?’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> If my mind at that moment had not been discombobulated, which as you know, dear reader, can be quite nasty, I could have formulated a ready reply. Luckily, however, I had once undertaken some tests in abstract reasoning and was adjudged to be fairly adept at thinking on my feet. If ever there was a time to put my alleged talents to good use then this was it. I could almost hear the cogs turning inside my head as I considered my response. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I decided at once that I should not disclose my true nationality as the man may attempt to relieve me of my wallet and of my passport. So what nationality could I be? I decided on Belarusian, as Belarus, so far I knew, was not part of the European Union, and so would permit me to pass myself off as an asylum seeker. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I looked up at the man. ‘Belarus… Belarus…. English no good…. Belarus.’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The man squatted down beside me.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘You want go England?’ he asked.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No… no England,’ I replied. ‘Amsterdam. Go Amsterdam.’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Amsterdam no good,’ said the man.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No, no, is good, good, Amsterdam good,’ I replied.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No, England good,’ said the man. ‘Why you go Amsterdam?’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Cousin Amsterdam. Two cousin. Two. Go Amsterdam. Amsterdam good,’ I said, and got up onto my feet.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I made my way up the embankment steps. The man followed me.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Would be better if would go England,’ he said. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I wanted to tell him not to use two conditionals in the same if-clause, but that would have blown my cover. So I replied:</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No, Amsterdam good, two cousin, go Amsterdam. Is good.'</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I realised that I was overdoing the ‘goods’. But I had seen a metro station about 200 yards away into which I could make good my escape.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">‘No, you come England. 500 euro. Back of truck. Is good.’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No, no, go Amsterdam. Amsterdam good.’</span><br />
<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I toyed with the notion of grabbing him by the lapels and flinging him head first into the river. I settled for a more prosaic exit, waited until I was close enough enough to the metro station, then made a bolt for it.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I made it to the Gare du Nord and on to the airport. In the departure lounge, my dark glasses covering my eyes, I made a brief surveillance of my fellow travellers in the off chance that Gordon was among them. Maybe his hotel had burned down, too. Or his pied-à-terre. But he was nowhere to be seen. I bought a cream bun at a snack bar and enjoyed it so much that I went back and bought another one. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> On the plane coming back I was suddenly filled with doubts. Will I ever be able to solve the mystery of Norman the Man of Mystery? </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Norman? Did you say Norman?’ I said to myself. ’His name isn’t Norman. It’s… it’s….’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I s</span></span><span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">uddenly realised that I had forgotten Gordon’s name. One again I was discombobulated. The passenger next to me seemed to detect the mental turmoil I was going through.</span></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Yes, I er…. don’t like flying,’ I replied. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘What’s not to like?’ the passenger said.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It took one member of cabin crew and two passengers to restrain me from strangling him.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We took the scenic route to the police station after we had landed and I was charged with common assault onboard an aircraft. When I finally got back home I slept for 10 hours, possibly a record for me.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Gordon was back in his flat the following Wednesday. At least that that was the day that I first spotted him. He may well have been back earlier, or indeed, as previously noted, not been away. For although I had seen no lights between the chinks in his blinds, I was now of the mind that this did not definitively signal that he was not at home. The recognition of this observation made my surveillance of him all the more challenging. I spent most of the days planning my next move. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I discovered that there was a daily flight at 7.15 a.m. to Palma, Majorca. But my lack of intelligence with regard to Gordon’s preferences - viz. was he an art gallery man or did he prefer the beach? - meant that I was no further forward. However, I did reject the notion of jetting off to Palma, though I have to confess that it did cross my mind.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I similarly rejected the idea of hiring a private detective, or the notion of acquiring a drone in the shape and appearance of a pigeon and equipped with an X-ray camera, as well as other such drolleries of which at times my cup runneth over. </span><br />
<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I had the feeling that I had reached a dead end. And then, two days after Gordon's return, therefore a Friday, an unforeseen event occurred.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"> I was walking back to my flat at the end of my habitual and sadly predictable early evening stroll, when I looked across the street and saw Gordon crossing to my side. Our paths were inevitably going to cross. We exchanged nods and then walked side by side towards our respective blocks.</span></span><br />
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I knew that it was an opportunity that I could not miss to gain some invaluable intelligence, so I casually said to him: ‘I was in Paris last week.’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Gordon looked at me and smiled and I noticed that his front teeth were missing. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘Nice city Paris,’ I continued. ‘Ever er… been there yourself… at all?’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> ‘No,’ he said.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> His reply knocked me totally out of kilter, so much so that I walked straight into a wheely bin and banged my thigh.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I exclaimed aloud and Gordon looked at me and smiled. I clutched my leg and at the same time gestured to Gordon that I was all right. He turned and continued on his way.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I hobbled back to my flat and examined the bruise on my right thigh. I had an early night that night and had a strange dream.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In my dream I was walking along the pavement and turned to see Gordon crossing the road towards me as he had been when I‘d seen him. He was dressed in a bright green suit with a carnation button hole, and was wearing a Panama hat. In one hand he had a cane with an ebony handle and in the other hand a large, smoking cigar. As he approached he gave me a wide smile and his gleaming teeth sparkled in the sunshine. He rubbed his belly with his cigar hand and said in a loud, crisp voice: <i>‘Ah, replete with a bellyful of the old prog, there’s contentedness for a man!’ </i></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I then watched him as he walked away conducting an imaginary orchestra with his right arm.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> My dream haunted me for several days and at times the two images of Gordon became so immersed the one into the other that I was unable to distinguish the real Gordon from the Gordon of the dream which added to the aura of the mystery surrounding him. More than ever I had to get the bottom of it and I knew that my only resource was to follow him when his next departure was scheduled, that is in 12 days time. I marked the date in my diary with the note: <i>Mem. follow G.</i></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thursday morning 12 days later</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was up and dressed by 4 a.m. in my trench coat and bush hat. Gordon’s flat was lit up and the blinds set in keeping with an imminent departure, and indeed I had seen him moving in and out of his kitchen. Then, at 4.17 a.m. precisely, I watched the living room light go out, followed a minute later by the bedroom light. It was the cue I had been waiting for. I went out of my flat, locked the door, and then went through the fire door and onto the stairwell. From the stairwell I would have a good view of Gordon as he ascended the hill at the side of my block. I tried to position myself so that I could see Gordon but not be seen by him.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A few moments later I observed him walk past, his slow, methodical tread like the faithful donkey carrying Mary and the infant on the flight into Egypt. I waited until he was lost from view behind the houses, then made my way hurriedly down the stairwell and onto the street. I quickly caught him up and maintained a distance of about 100 yards between us.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was drizzling a little but I was well protected under my trench coat and bush hat. Gordon rounded the corner and disappeared from view. I quickly located him and kept my distance. He crossed the road, walked the short distance to the end, and then turned the corner. I followed after. But when I reached the corner I noticed Gordon standing stock still at a junction about 20 feet in front of me. I felt my pulse race. ‘What shall I do? If he turns he can’t help but see me.’ I cast around for a place to hide. Behind me, on the other side of the road, was a small, grassy area with a large tree. If I could make it to there I could hide behind the tree. Not wanting to take my eyes off Gordon in case he turned and saw me, I walked backwards across the road until I reached the tree. Then I ducked behind it.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I waited a few seconds, then peered out from behind the tree. Gordon was still standing there. <i>‘What is he doing?’ </i>I asked myself. I pulled my head back and was suddenly confronted with a lady standing in front of me, small, stout, sober, face like a wizened sweet potato. With her was her dog, Jack Russell, upright on his hind legs, held there by the pull of his lead, and yelping, yelping. I turned my body sideways to the beast fearing for my testicles. What were they doing out at this hour of the morning? Had they no home to go to? Maybe I'll investigate once the affair of Gordon has been classified. 'Come along, Sammy,' the lady finally said. I thought at first that she was talking to me. But my name is not Sammy. I forget at times what it is, but the lady could call me Sammy if she wanted to, and I would follow her home and lie in my basket and she could pat me and pet me and feed me with cream buns, sausage rolls and bottles of beer. She led Sammy away, tugging on his lead, until they disappeared into the early morning gloom. When I looked again from behind the tree Gordon was gone.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I walked quickly across the road and reached the junction. The turning to the left continued around a bend as did the turning to the right. There was no sign of Gordon in either direction. Which turning would he have taken? As fate would have it, both turnings lead to metro stations, the one further down the track than the other. In addition, they were equidistance from where I was standing. He could therefore follow either one for a train to the airport. Not for the first time I was nonplussed. Which way shall I go? Right? Left? Left? Right?</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I was pondering my options when I heard a voice inside me tell me: ‘Give it up, old lad. Go home. Get some sleep. Leave him alone. He’s only living his life. Give it up. Go home.’</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> After a moment’s hesitation I turned and made my way back to my flat. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I went back to bed and lay in the dark. The voice was right. I felt ashamed. Following people, spying on them. Surveillance pigeon-drones, private detectives. Assaulting travellers, sleeping under bridges and hiding behind trees. Why do I do all this? And then it suddenly dawned on me that I too am a man of mystery, even to myself.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Gordon returned the following Monday, at least that was when I noticed him in his kitchen. But I did not dwell on the fact that he was back two days sooner than usual. It no longer mattered any more. For I had decided on an action to put an end to this absurd drama once and for all. For it was indeed absurd and so it was fitting that the end too should be equally absurd. For everything ends in absurdity. So two days later, at 9 p.m. precisely, I closed the living room blinds, I thing which I never ever do, and retired to my bed chamber for the night. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The next morning (Thursday) at 4 a.m.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I walked into my kitchen where the blinds were up. I was wearing my bush hat and trench coat. I glanced in the direction of the block opposite. ‘Is anyone watching me?’ I wondered. I checked that everything was turned off in the kitchen and then killed the light. I went through into the living room and walked to the door leading into the passage. I turned off the living room light and walked down the passage to my bedroom. I collected my shoulder bag and then turned off the bedroom light. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I went out of the flat and locked the door behind me, then I made my way down the stairwell stairs. I was going. It didn’t matter where. Maybe I would run into Gordon and we could play chess together and listen to Chopin and discuss the poetic works of Guillaume Apollinaire. The air was chilly when I got outside so I pulled my trench coat around me. I didn’t know where I was going. My shoulder bag didn’t weigh me down. Just a few necessaries, nothing more. I walked up the street and around the corner. I passed the tree that I had hidden behind. What was it? A birch? An elm? An oak? I came to the junction. Which way should I go? I had three choices, I could go the left, I could go to the right, or I could return the way I had come. I stood motionless and pondered my options. Five minutes elapsed before I decided. I pulled my trench coat around me, secured my bag on my shoulder, and took one last look around me. Then I put my best foot forward. And I was gone. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">THE END</span></div>
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