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Bêthberry · 10-20-2002, 03:42 PM

An irate member of the Academy jumped forth to remonstrate over this scandalous slur to the valuable efforts of the Academy. He wove a little on his feet, as if he had had first-hand experience of this spirit of which the remonstrator spoke.

How dare you, Sir, cast such miserable aspersions on the efforts of the Academy. Why, would you have us all believe these faddish French notions on problematic productions and surfeit of meaning? This author, Mr. Rimbaud, is not yet dead, and as he is one of the green persuasion, it is even more imperative that he not be submitted to even more oppression. Blame not the readers, Sirrah, but look to the author, although perhaps he himself is guilty of not looking closely to his author. A little more Tolkien purity could be called for. In his text lies his signifying monkey. You are attempting to suppress his discourse, silver-tongued Saruman that you are.

At this point, the honourable member of the Academy tilted a little too close to the flayling arms of the media microphones and fell into the crowd, indeed, tumbling right into the man who had first remonstrated with Madam President. Yells of Fight, fight. Bastille! Bastille! could be heard from members of the Press not at closest range to the debacle, at which point the local constabulary's whistles were loudly blown, thus rousing another Academy adjudicator, the honorable member from The Shire, West Farthing, a staunch empiricist called Hamfast Bull, who shouted loudly, A Elbereth Gilthoniel! before exiting stealthily by the rear exit.

The fracas was not reported by the next day's Press, who deemed Mr. Rimbaud's earlier remarks more topical.

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

10-20-2002, 03:42 PM	#23
Bêthberry Cryptic Aura Join Date: May 2002 Posts: 6,046	An irate member of the Academy jumped forth to remonstrate over this scandalous slur to the valuable efforts of the Academy. He wove a little on his feet, as if he had had first-hand experience of this spirit of which the remonstrator spoke. How dare you, Sir, cast such miserable aspersions on the efforts of the Academy. Why, would you have us all believe these faddish French notions on problematic productions and surfeit of meaning? This author, Mr. Rimbaud, is not yet dead, and as he is one of the green persuasion, it is even more imperative that he not be submitted to even more oppression. Blame not the readers, Sirrah, but look to the author, although perhaps he himself is guilty of not looking closely to his author. A little more Tolkien purity could be called for. In his text lies his signifying monkey. You are attempting to suppress his discourse, silver-tongued Saruman that you are. At this point, the honourable member of the Academy tilted a little too close to the flayling arms of the media microphones and fell into the crowd, indeed, tumbling right into the man who had first remonstrated with Madam President. Yells of Fight, fight. Bastille! Bastille! could be heard from members of the Press not at closest range to the debacle, at which point the local constabulary's whistles were loudly blown, thus rousing another Academy adjudicator, the honorable member from The Shire, West Farthing, a staunch empiricist called Hamfast Bull, who shouted loudly, A Elbereth Gilthoniel! before exiting stealthily by the rear exit. The fracas was not reported by the next day's Press, who deemed Mr. Rimbaud's earlier remarks more topical. [ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ] __________________ I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.