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Re: T*st
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Sn!pe
Sep 5, 2022, 9:04:15 PM9/5/22
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Brandon Burt <offbra...@gmail.com> wrote:
> WIDE SHOT, EXT. A CITY STREET. Men with hats and briefcases, and women
> with gloves and pocketbooks, stride this way and that, each intent upon
> some ill-defined errand. We hear the cheerful strains of a vaguely
> familiar UPBEAT MID-CENTURY RIFF, probably appearing in the stock-music
> catalog under a heading like "Hustle and Bustle!" or "Busytown."
>
> A small, furry creature slinks in from stage left, fully scruffed and
> wearing a negligee.
>
> "Wait ... that can't be right," he says, stopping in midstride. "Why am I
> wearing a peignoir in the middle of the day?" he wonders. "Why, in fact,
> am I wearing a peignoir at all?"
>
> This exclamation startles a passer-by—this one of the hat-and-briefcase
> variety—right in the middle of doing that thing passers-by always do, so
> that, before doing it, he blurts out, "Nice pig!" and scampers off,
> thereby completing his mission, upon which he receives the contractual
> +1UP before falling into a Yawning Chasm.
>
> This confuses the otter to no end. "No, that can't be right, either," he
> says. "Because, eventually, I'll forget all about it and stop being
> confused, whereas 'to no end' implies a never-ending, permanent state of
> confusion."
>
> "Not necessarily," came a reply from a different passer-by, wearing gloves
> and confidently clutching a pocketbook, who, like the peignoir-wearing
> Otter, had also stopped mid-stride, apparently for no other reason than to
> argue with him. and was suspended a few inches off the glittering
> sidewalk, in violation of the laws of physics. "You see, even though a lot
> of people use 'to no end' in the sense of 'without cessation," it's more
> correctly used to mean 'with no discernable purp—OOF.'"
>
> "Purpoof? Now that really can't be right," said Otter, but his words could
> scarcely be heard over the growing commotion as a hapless passer-by, who
> had stumbled into the floating, purse-clutching one, bent down to retrieve
> his hat from the glittering sidewalk lest he become a *hatless* hapless
> passer-by, and unwittingly formed the nucleus of a whole multi-passer-by
> pileup.
>
> [Ed. Note: Look, Sally, the writer really wants an aerial shot here, he
> says "to depict the rapidly growing area of confusion radiating outward as
> all the passers-by trip over one another." But I told him, "Look, we don't
> really have the budget for anything like that, this is just supposed to be
> one of those weird, pointless, self-referential stories Otter used to post
> to Wundee," but he was really insistent. Can we get a drone or something?]
>
> [Ed. Note: And what's the deal with the pig? What pig?]
>
> [Ed. Note: Oh, and then he says it just cuts to 'a tight interior shot of
> buttered T*st.' Whatever could be meant by that?]
>
> [Ed. Note: And something makes me a little uneasy about this 'suspended a
> few inches off the glittering sidewalk' business. I think he's planning to
> bring in a physics cop or something. We're going to need a whistle and a
> truncheon."]
>
> INT. DAYLIGHT: A CAFE that, moments earlier, was abandoned. The CHEERFUL
> MID-CENTURY RIFF reaches a crescendo and we DOLLY IN to an EXTREME CLOSEUP
> of the counter, where butter melts slowly down the side of a stack of
> crisp, wheat T*st, coming to rest, finally and yellowly, next to an
> unopened grape jelly packet on the small plate beneath.
>
> —Otter (who thinks a truncheon must be a kind of deep-fried, crunchy
> battered fish, which sounds delicious, and wonders if that cafe is
> anywhere nearby.)
>
Greetings old friend, it's excellent to see you again. Apologies
for tardiness in replying; if you're still there I'll try to better in
future. It's 2 a.m. here now, so I'll keep this brief and just say
that I hope that I see you again here in dear old Wundee.
Newsflash: ~ USENET STILL NOT DEAD YET! ~
--
^Ï^ My pet rock Gordon just is.
~ Slava Ukraini ~
> WIDE SHOT, EXT. A CITY STREET. Men with hats and briefcases, and women
> with gloves and pocketbooks, stride this way and that, each intent upon
> some ill-defined errand. We hear the cheerful strains of a vaguely
> familiar UPBEAT MID-CENTURY RIFF, probably appearing in the stock-music
> catalog under a heading like "Hustle and Bustle!" or "Busytown."
>
> A small, furry creature slinks in from stage left, fully scruffed and
> wearing a negligee.
>
> "Wait ... that can't be right," he says, stopping in midstride. "Why am I
> wearing a peignoir in the middle of the day?" he wonders. "Why, in fact,
> am I wearing a peignoir at all?"
>
> This exclamation startles a passer-by—this one of the hat-and-briefcase
> variety—right in the middle of doing that thing passers-by always do, so
> that, before doing it, he blurts out, "Nice pig!" and scampers off,
> thereby completing his mission, upon which he receives the contractual
> +1UP before falling into a Yawning Chasm.
>
> This confuses the otter to no end. "No, that can't be right, either," he
> says. "Because, eventually, I'll forget all about it and stop being
> confused, whereas 'to no end' implies a never-ending, permanent state of
> confusion."
>
> "Not necessarily," came a reply from a different passer-by, wearing gloves
> and confidently clutching a pocketbook, who, like the peignoir-wearing
> Otter, had also stopped mid-stride, apparently for no other reason than to
> argue with him. and was suspended a few inches off the glittering
> sidewalk, in violation of the laws of physics. "You see, even though a lot
> of people use 'to no end' in the sense of 'without cessation," it's more
> correctly used to mean 'with no discernable purp—OOF.'"
>
> "Purpoof? Now that really can't be right," said Otter, but his words could
> scarcely be heard over the growing commotion as a hapless passer-by, who
> had stumbled into the floating, purse-clutching one, bent down to retrieve
> his hat from the glittering sidewalk lest he become a *hatless* hapless
> passer-by, and unwittingly formed the nucleus of a whole multi-passer-by
> pileup.
>
> [Ed. Note: Look, Sally, the writer really wants an aerial shot here, he
> says "to depict the rapidly growing area of confusion radiating outward as
> all the passers-by trip over one another." But I told him, "Look, we don't
> really have the budget for anything like that, this is just supposed to be
> one of those weird, pointless, self-referential stories Otter used to post
> to Wundee," but he was really insistent. Can we get a drone or something?]
>
> [Ed. Note: And what's the deal with the pig? What pig?]
>
> [Ed. Note: Oh, and then he says it just cuts to 'a tight interior shot of
> buttered T*st.' Whatever could be meant by that?]
>
> [Ed. Note: And something makes me a little uneasy about this 'suspended a
> few inches off the glittering sidewalk' business. I think he's planning to
> bring in a physics cop or something. We're going to need a whistle and a
> truncheon."]
>
> INT. DAYLIGHT: A CAFE that, moments earlier, was abandoned. The CHEERFUL
> MID-CENTURY RIFF reaches a crescendo and we DOLLY IN to an EXTREME CLOSEUP
> of the counter, where butter melts slowly down the side of a stack of
> crisp, wheat T*st, coming to rest, finally and yellowly, next to an
> unopened grape jelly packet on the small plate beneath.
>
> —Otter (who thinks a truncheon must be a kind of deep-fried, crunchy
> battered fish, which sounds delicious, and wonders if that cafe is
> anywhere nearby.)
>
Greetings old friend, it's excellent to see you again. Apologies
for tardiness in replying; if you're still there I'll try to better in
future. It's 2 a.m. here now, so I'll keep this brief and just say
that I hope that I see you again here in dear old Wundee.
Newsflash: ~ USENET STILL NOT DEAD YET! ~
--
^Ï^ My pet rock Gordon just is.
~ Slava Ukraini ~
Brandon Burt
Sep 8, 2022, 9:00:08 AM9/8/22
to
This certainly is a brave new world we are living in, do you know, I'm typing this on not just one screen, as we did back in the olden times, but on *more than one* screen. Now that's progress for you! Any word from Rose?
-otter (who, glancing at watch AGAIN, realizes he still needs to visit the Ministry of Clocks to apply for more Time Permits.)
Sn!pe
Sep 8, 2022, 8:37:00 PM9/8/22
to
to get a room, I'll say that I've always enjoyed your contributions too,
Otter. Perhaps it's that both of us are denizens of the boggy, marshy
places in the backwater eddies of the stream of consciousness that is
Usenet and, in particular, Wundee.
>
> This certainly is a brave new world we are living in, do you know, I'm
> typing this on not just one screen, as we did back in the olden times,
> but on *more than one* screen. Now that's progress for you! Any word
> from Rose?
>
> -otter (who, glancing at watch AGAIN, realizes he still needs to visit the
> Ministry of Clocks to apply for more Time Permits.)
>
particular order, I recall the Original Dancing Bear; Rose of Wundee
(for whom I had a special affection); Feste, the simple clown; Professor
Alan Corre; Lars Bacteriophage; Scarlet Manuka; Rick Onan and so many
more.
Oh for the days of us all gathered around the camp fire, telling tales
to keep our spirits up while the glinting eyes of the feral watchers in
the wooded margins of our camping glade looked on in wonder and
bemusement.
I haven't seen hide nor hair of those people since the Wundee of those
days exploded, although ODB did phone once and told me of a meeting
he'd had with Rose in RL. Colour me envious.
Speaking of RL: I was having many major changes in my life at the time,
including the death of one marriage and the beginning of my current much
happier one. It was a time of upsets and wobbles, but life goes on and
eventually settles down in a new configuration and TFFT.
I haven't mentioned any of my later friends in Wundee, but I remember
all of them fondly and wish they were still here and posting. Oh well,
such is life. Maybe a few more will come out of hiding.
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