Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Uninspired Co-Inditors

Gentle visitors, what a patient lot you are. Your humble Contributor is just back from a meeting of those poets, philosophers, seers, savants, sycophants, dilettantes, and ex-cons whose singular and largely astigmatic vision led to the creation of the pages hereunder.

No doubt, at some time hence, historians and, probably, prosecutors, will sift through the unshredded documentary precursors to piece together the motive, means, opportunity, and mens rea of this group of uninspired co-inditers. Against advice of counsel, we believe that it certainly would be wrong to withhold these from our faithful visitors pending criminal proceedings.

Therefore, we offer one of the formative documents, with certain proprietary material and expletives expurgated.

December 1, 2004

Gentlemen --

Yesterday, Mr. * send me a typically provocative and offensive message. He noted that it was
Jonathan Swift's birthday, then quoted Swift to the effect that the Emerald Isle was a "vile" place. Of course, Swift, though an Anglican dean, was a hero of the Irish people for his insistence that their cross-channel governors treat them as human beings. I'm not sure whether Swift ever got outside of Dublin, but if he traveled to, say, the border of Limerick and Kerry (not the losing candidate), along the beautiful River Feale, he would have thought that he'd died and gone straight to heaven.

In any case, this was curious and serendipitous for the following reasons:

* My alma mater required a senior thesis for graduation. I did mine on Swift. That my first submission was deemed insufficient is merely a biographical footnote, such as that Mark Twain was unschooled and Thomas Aquinas was thought stupid. Having left off senior revels briefly, I did a passable second submission, which left me forever sympathetic to this giant of literature.

* Did you know that, in his day, Swift was a member of his own informal writer's group, known as the
Scriblerus Club, along with Alexander Pope, John Gay, William Congreve and occasional others. Unlike our own humble group, however, it was not tragically Sisyphusean.

* Yesterday, an infrequent pleased client came by to deliver a hand-carved chestnut pen to me. (I still have not decided how much to bill her for the time I spent admiring this gift.) In case you've forgotten, an ink pen is an instrument for what was once called handwriting. Those who are nostalgic can now purchase a digital pen, which will digitize your scribblings.

This leads me to the unavoidable conviction that we should undertake a blog. Swift was a blogger in his day -- a pamphleteer, a commentator on politics and culture, a poet, as it were. "Pen names", or more accurately, "handles" or screen names are common in blogs, just as they were in the Augustan Age and other ages. (I think Swift used the name "
Isaac Bickerstaff".) If the sniffling, bespectacled, vegan literati have not yet fully realized the brilliance of our writing, we should take it directly to the people. If we don't catch on, then we will have simply wasted our valuable time (and, I suppose, the valuable time of the unfortunate persons who actual bother to read it).

Here are the details of the proposal.

[CONFIDENTIAL: REDACTED MATERIAL.] [BLAH, BLAH, BLAH.]

Group Activities -- We could continue our quasi-monthly meetings, of course -- but focus on what has become most important in these gatherings -- that is, quaffing ale.

***
What am I forgetting? It's hard to imagine that anything could improve on the plan I've set forth; but, anything is possible. Let me know your thoughts

Remainderman

There you have it, gentle Visitors -- the uninspired beginnings of it all.

5 Comments:

Blogger Gone Away said...

And, if I may speak for other humble visitors to these hallowed halls, we feel greatly the honor that has been bestowed upon us in this privileged glimpse of the inner workings of that fabled alliance known colloquially as "The Wondrous Hereunder". Oh, happy day that did shine upon that meeting of minds, that clinking of ale tankards, that outpouring of widom and wit, that did result in the formation of so esteemed a joint endeavor.

To put it bluntly, I enjoy the thing. Continue, sirs.

1/26/2005 12:38:00 AM  
Blogger Harry said...

So be it. (clink)


And you can bet your sweet bippy that sound cannot, nor will it ever be digitalized. Nosiree, Bob. Cheers to ye all.

1/26/2005 08:28:00 AM  
Blogger Remainderman said...

Gone Away --

Would you consider drafting & delivering my eulogy? Then, having kindly (but unrealistically) raised the cause for my canonization, Harry would be free to act as the Advocatus Diaboli ("Devil's Advocate") to bring things back to earth. (Honestly, I'd love to be present for such a presentation, but not looking up from the place, below.)

1/26/2005 03:55:00 PM  
Blogger Gone Away said...

Give me a break, Remainderman! I've already been accused of being too effusive in my comments this week. Fact is, I tell em like I see em (in flowery language when the mood takes me, I admit).

And let us not speak of eulogies and the need for them; the day is to be seized and life enjoyed as long as it be. Anyway, you'd be looking down, not up. ;)

1/26/2005 06:31:00 PM  
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