When tilted away from the sun
Up north we have lots of fun
We dance in the dark
And lark in the park
Until, exhausted, we’re done
Then the clocks in that town all over town struck three and bells in churches there ringing started rushing sound of bells like wings tearing under roof of sky, so these bells rang.
This beautifully dancing sentence may be found in Green’s novel, Living.
A galaxy hosted a planet. The planet, awash with seas, boasted a single small continent. A lone city occupied the tip top of the geographical center of the continent, a great mountain shouldering high above the plains. The single inhabitant of the city stepped to the wall surrounding the garden and peered over to admire the sheer drop to oblivion. For the briefest of moments, Fodontalon, for that was the inhabitant’s name, weighed the pros and cons of a leap to death. Cons still outweighed pros, and so Fodontalon sighed, tapped feelers and truncated limbs together, and returned to the iron meshed interior bower, where the labor of three lifetimes awaited. The walls rewarded the return with a single drip of secreted sustenance. Fodontalon lapped at it greedily with a many fingered tongue. Existence continued.
The loon will be going undercover for the next few days in the guise of Batsantaman. He aims to investigate nefarious activities taking place in the shark enhancement industry.
Soaked in blood, the globe of terror nestles in hiding, awaiting its second victim.
i raced the river
the river raced me
to the sea
i tripped over a boulder
hurt my left shoulder
the river ran by
why not i?
in triumphant swallow
to be consumed by the sea
alas, not to be
Loon: Today for the 3 Question Interview I am delighted to welcome a gentleman who I am told was a 19th century showman of note, P. T. Barnum. Haven’t we met earlier, Mr. Barnum?
Barnum’s ghost: My popularity is such that return engagements are no novelty to me.
Loon: Oh. What was your best attraction?
Barnum’s ghost: For the mere tenth part of a dollar I will reveal before your very eyes the one inch tall princess I personally rescued from beneath a frond in the jungles of Australia and carry here in the pocket of my vest.
Loon: I don’t have any money. Could I give you something else for a peek at the princess?
Barnum’s ghost (looking around): The deed to this emporium would be satisfactory. Fetch it and sign it over to me at once.
(The loon eagerly races from the room. Barnum’s ghost chuckles and wrings his hands as if impersonating Zasu Pitts.)
Before leaving his palace to walk to the bank and deposit his filthy lucre, the cruel landlord pulled from his waistcoat pocket the watch he’d stolen from the widow of his former partner, a man who had recently died in prison after the cruel landlord had framed him for embezzlement. Flicking a mote of dirt from his left spat with his ebony walking stick and whistling ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’, the cruel landlord set off at a brisk pace along the walkway. He deftly used his stick to trip up a young roller skater, nudge an elderly gentleman down some stairs, and knock the hat off a young woman struggling with arms full of crying baby and several parcels. He blustered into the bank and stormed into the president’s office. There he dumped his filthy lucre on the president’s desk.
‘Deposit this,’ he snarled.
‘Certainly, sir,’ oozed the bank president with a bow and a scrape.
‘And let that be a lesson,’ added the cruel landlord.
He then left the building and was set upon and beaten to death by an impressive number of people.
James Whale often pulled pranks like this one to ease tension on the set.
Elsa’s attention to the scene has been momentarily interrupted when she sees:
a. buckets of dead rats being spilled onto the floor by the maniacally laughing director James Whale.
b. a coffin lid creaking open to reveal a grinning Boris Karloff winking at her.
c. tongues darting from the eyes of her dog.
d. all of the above.
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Doc's Lunacy
5 of 5 stars to The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton goodreads.com/review/show/55…
