The Firefox

I really hesitate to ask what that means Petty.- Mrs Figg

Do hesitate Figg, hesitate, its for the best.... 

Hey you guys, stop posting when I am! It gets confusing!  

Bluebottle wrote:Odo, I certainly don't mean to imply you should apply any self sensorship. If you ever as you say "sail to close to the wind" then that's an artists prerogative I think.   One shouldn't limit ones creative output.

You are new, aren't you!    That's Orwell. O.R.W.E.L.L. (And it's also: Ol' Anon btw. That's O.L.'. A.N.O.N.  )

oh for fucks sake

incorrigible  

Is that like a dirrigible? --- --- What are those balloony things with cabins suspended under them ?  

Pettytyrant101 wrote:everyone get a fair bit of pounding here- Norc

A suitable turn of phrase for describing Ole Anons work!  

{{{Scottish bastard beat me to it, I see...  }}}

Sorry Orwell, I don't do the cloak and daggers well it seems.

My mind speaks with the pure voice of innocence.

Not that that should give you any ideas now... damn.  

  *sigh*

there will be letters to 'The Times' about you lot (Petty and Orwell) if you're not careful. feathers will get ruffled, curtains will twitch, teacups will be slammed down on saucers in disgust. just mark my words.

11

Julia could not rest. Not even her commodious hole could give her any satisfaction after what had happened, and so she decided to go for a walk to clear her mind.

The dawn light was growing as she wandered the streets and byways of Upper Needlehole. The more Godly were up and about, briskly walking, or tending their carrots or melons; and some cooking jelly rolls for their pre-breakfast morsels to judge from the smell wafting from various locations in that sub-aristocratic, very Eruvian part of town.

"I have Sinned," she was thinking as she passed Bluebottle House on the High Street. "And the worst thing is, I enjoyed the sinning, I can't deny it - and not just once, but three times in less than an hour, and with a perfect stranger and a Scotshobbit wearing a third-hand crash helmet. I should be deeply deeply ashamed."

She did not realize she was talking aloud.

"Hello there, Madam," said a gentle masculine voice. "A penny for your shameful verbalized thoughts."

Julia stopped on the road outside the gate of that respectable House of Good Repute. "Oh dear," she said when she saw the rather austere looking chap leaning on the gate. "Did I speak my illegal thoughts aloud?"

"You did, Madam," the chap said kindly. He was dressed in a rather nice suit - his Church of Eru suit, in fact - and his blue Nordic eyes seemed to see right through her. "I see you are troubled in your soul."

"How dare you! I said nothing about my hole!"

"Soul, Madam. I do apologize. I said, 'soul'. Sorry if my diction wasn't as clear as it might have been." He was a tactful chap. The sort of chap who was truly respectable. The sort of chap one would never make fun of, or distort anything about for a cheap laugh, or victimize unfairly in any way, even if he was clearly from Fjordianlandia, to judge from his accent. To put it more simply, he was your innocent sort.

"Oh dear," Julia said again. And she began to cry.

"You are clearly in some mental turmoil, Madam. Would I be able to offer you a cup of tea and a sympathetic ear?"

"You're Eric the Blue, reformed Privateer and lay Priest of the Eruvian Church of Needlehole, aren't you?" Julia asked, as she dabbed her eyes delicately with a flowery handkerchief. "Oh what could such a Righteous and Pure Soul ever do to help a fallen woman like me?"

"I could perhaps help a fallen woman like you to her feet -- her moral feet that is." And Eric gave her a chaste smile.

"No one has ever said I had moral feet before," Julia sighed. "Maybe there is hope for me yet."

"There is hope for everyone," Eric smiled kindly. "For Eru's love is boundless."

Julia stared intently now at the handsome Fjordianlandian. "Oh dear," she thought yet again. "Here is a hobbit of impecccable good manners and a pure heart, and all I'm thinking about is what he'd be like in bed... I'm doomed! I'm doomed!"

And she fell in a swoon on the roadway...


to be continued...

So I miss reading this for a week, and when I come back....well, I must say.  It put me in such a delirium of shock at the impropriety of it all I actually walked into the shower before even reading my morning Glamour magazine....being what I read before the shower to keep up with fashion, you understand.

OH the sin and naughtiness.  I do hope Kafria can keep Squach blindfolded for...how many days have we got left before she's 18?  Is nobody counting?

Oh forsooth 'tis a dullard fate,
Carefulness knocks on the gate,
It knocks! It knock! - with subtle knuckle,
While belted goodness tightens it's buckle.

Oh forsooth I feel it's gentle tentacles,
Wise air emits from healthful ventacles,
The end of lust, the end of mating,
Embracing, scapegoating, suffocating.

Oh forsooth - see their mild grins,
Their breath so sweet but not of gin,
Their pallid friendly faces shine,
With Goodness, niceness - the Divine.

Oh forsooth, bear ye their patronage,
But of the children, what of them?
Quietly, quietly - not defiantly,
Defiance is for the curséd Free!


"The Taming of the Gods" - Virginia Wolfe


Channelled by
Wisey Banks

Wisey! This thread gets better and better.

is blue respectable?!... well.. ok... i'll just wait and see ..

Ooh, that would be a plot twist.  I was already feeling I had a lot to live up to.

Though if I turn out unrespectable then what hope would there be for Needlehole?  

if u're smart now, u just shut up and see where this is going  anything at this point can be used against u.

Oh, I'm perfectly aware of that...

How do you think I turned out to be the puritanical hope of Nedlehole...  

hahaahahaahahahaahahaha..... yeah right.

24.11.13
12 Bunghole Avenue
Water Boarding on Sea

To the Editor of The Times
Dear Sir,
Ol Anon MUST be stopped, just this morning I had to spit out my crumpets onto my poor pussy who was sitting on my lap. She had a terrible fright, and it took two hours to comb the crumbs from her head. Last week I shrieked so loudly after reading his filth that I lost control of my Shihtzu in Sainsbury's. These moral outrages have to end. My reputation at the ladies Society for the promotion of purity hangs by a thread.
yours Mildred Figg-Bigger

Norc wrote:hahaahahaahahahaahahaha..... yeah right.

Every town needs it's hero.  

Blue is the hero Needlehole deserves, but not the one it needs right now.

12


Odovacar 'Bunny' Banks had grown weary in his later years, and when he read the morning news, he felt a little more of his vital life juices draining away.

"Perry! Perry!" he called croakily.

Primula 'Perry' Banks called back from the kitchen. "Your cuppa is on the way, Granddad. I'm straining out the tea leaves."

A moment later Perry arrived. A fine young hobbit she was. Pretty but not too pretty, bright but not too bright, venturesome but not too venturesome, a goodly clone if ever there was one. The sort of girl who wa predictable and obedient. In her hands she bore a tray with two steaming cups and a dish of almond macroons.

"What is it Granddad? Has your eye fallen on troubles again with the reading of the morning news?"

"It has," Bunny answered sadly. "I sometimes think to throw out this damn propolovian device. Oh the naive and spinelesss forces of respectability are at work again. Respectability was once something to set your knees knocking!"

"What now?" Perry asked as she placed a cup in her Granddad's gnarled hands. "Careful you don't burn your fingers. It's hot!"

"It's this modern wishy-washy Tory Press! They've done it again! Listen:

A young Fjordianlandian exchange-shiriff was incarcerated in a Mental institution this morning for crimes against Clonal Respectability. The authorities have declared a State of Alarm due to the current wave of Illegality that is infecting the streets of Needlehole like Gondorian Flu ."

"Another one, Granddad? That's the third young woman this week, isn't it? It was a Firefighter Tuesday and an off duty Ticket Inspector yesterday - an Inspector of ample proportions if I remember correctly."

"The fools! The fools!" Bunny yelled with his old voice breaking in annoyance. He threw his propolovian device against a wall of his sitting room - which Perry had padded to save breakages. "A thousand years they've been trying to suppress the natural urges of the populace - but do they ever stop illicit behaviour? No, it's like a hydra head. The more it's head is pulled off the more heads pop up for pulling!"

Perry sighed. She had heard it all before. And, yet, she felt obliged to say it, "Oh Granddad, I'm sure you're wrong. Most young people deplore the actions of these few deluded young people. Only yesterday at Church, my circle of cloned respectable youth were commenting on how odious sex is - apparently - and how disgusted we are at these young sexualized people whose illegal acts titillate and tease and do no one no good. And as to this Master Baiter - it's him they really blame. Oh how we pray for him to be caught and incarcerated."

"Emasculated, you mean!"

"Oh Granddad, must you speak so vulgarly," Perry said primly. "We young folk shouldn't have to hear talk like that."

"Nor should you - but you'll have to grow up some time or other.. unless.... unless..." And now Bunny's eyes began to shine - as oft they did - with a peculiar inner light.

"Unless the Government takes up your idea of sterilizing the entire population," Perry sighed, as if on cue.

"And why not? We have perfected cloning. We have perfect gestation tanks. We don't need sex at all. We have banned sex. Why allow the risks? Neuter everyone, I say. Neuter neuter neuter..."

"Oh please calm yourself, Grandfather."

"But don't you see, dear Granddaughter? Young folk would not have to trouble about grown up things - never! - if only we took away their sexuality."

"But the Church Fathers say if we didn't have sexuality we wouldn't ever know what Sin was - academically speaking - and how then would Eru choose his Chosen Ones? On what basis would He do his winnowing?"

"Seems a damn stupid concept to me," Bunny grumbled under his breath - hoping Eru didn't hear him. ("Eru certainly has some damn strange ideas!" he thought. "Damn strange!")

"Oh Granddad! Please don't start that talk again. You sail too close to the wind with talk like that. What if Eru were to hear you?"

"I did say it very quietly," Bunny answered, though he sounded a little repentant as he cast a nervous eye around the room.

"If I heard you, surely Eru can."

"You're only sitting three feet away."

"But Eru sees all and hears all. You told me that yourself."

"Yes, and he knows all," Bunny sighed, looking even more nervous now. "Not saying He's a know-it-all, mind. Oh dear."

"I'll have to take you down to Confession again this morning," Perry sighed. "Oh Granddad. All this questioning of God - you know it's a Sin - and yet, evey day nowadays you seem to be questioning Him..."

"I'm just trying to understand things..."

"What kind of example do you set though? What of the children who look up to old people like you with all your old and respectable wisdom? If old fogeys like you are questioning things - then why would you expect young people not to question things?"  

And Bunny's old and wrinkled face became suddenly more creased. She was right, of course. His Granddaughter was right!

"Quickly," he croaked. "Get me down to Confession! Oh dear... oh dear... oh dear... I hope it's just senility setting in... Oh forgive me, Eru Illuvatar who is Good, who is Great and not at all strange at all! Surely not! It's me. I'm the strange one! I am I am I am... and I'm mad... Forgive me, Lord..."  and he began to weep.

   



to be continued....

   



"

Dear Ms Mildred Figg-Bigger,

In regards to your recent correspondence.

Mrs Figg wrote:24.11.13
12 Bunghole Avenue
Water Boarding on Sea

To the Editor of The Times

Dear Sir,
Ol Anon MUST be stopped, just this morning I had to spit out my crumpets onto my poor pussy who was sitting on my lap. She had a terrible fright, and it took two hours to comb the crumbs from her head. Last week I shrieked so loudly after reading his filth that I lost control of my Shihtzu in Sainsbury's. These moral outrages have to end. My reputation at the ladies Society for the promotion of purity hangs by a thread.
yours Mildred Figg-Bigger

May I extend my deepest regret for the state of your poor pussy, and for your Shihtzu's loss of control in Sainsbury's. I assure you, The Archet Bugle is a Publisher of Highest Repute and we would never publish anything of any kind unless it had an underlying Moral to Expound. As to what the Moral is in this latest publication, I'm not sure - it is generally a matter for my sub-editor, Mirabella Banks -- but I assure you I will instruct one my most trusted confidants, an Elder Citizen, to look into it as soon as he returns from a hostile takeover in Ozhobbitstan.

yours faithfully,
Lesbo Proudfoot,
Editor in Chief
The Archet Bugle.

Bunghole Avenue
Monday 11. 2013

Dear Lesbo,
Undoubtedly you are a lady of moral rectitude, perhaps we could join forces and give Ol Anon the tongue lashing he richly deserves. His moral compass needs deep probing, I suspect its off kilter and screwwiff.
yours
Mildred Figg Bigger

Dear Milly,

(I hope you don't mind me henceforth calling you, Milly? - as already you seem like a Sister to me!)  

I am minded of a (fairly) old Needlehole saying which I first heard at the Church of the Latter Day Ladies of the Tongue. The saying (if I remember correctly) goes something like, "Never lay a shrewish tongue upon a gentlehobbit's head but lay your tongue in all the sweetness of honey. And of your Sister, let your tongue be as sweet as the cherry a gentle tongue is wont to lick."

Wise words, I think, and advice I have often taken at Church Meetings.


yours faithfully,
Lesbo