IPR presents: Ancient Celtic belt-making and it's relationship to the astrolabe, or
Created | Updated Mar 21, 2004
Tradition, History and Truth
To the uninitiated and to even a few of the nitia, the easiest facts are those that
are the most accessible. This often leads to a strange sort of real/unreal existence,
in which what seem to otherwise be intelligent, well-rounded mature individuals
suddenly careen in the middle of a factual discussion of history, politics, religion,
Belgian Cooking, or monochrome ritual tattooing among the Anglican Clergy of
Isterbrook, into an odd mythical trance that bears the reciter and the listeners
into a fantastic world of rumour, misconstruance, ignorance and back-projection...
before some trick of the light on a coffee carafe brings said mature individual back
into this world, this time and this reference grid of facts, figures, sports statistics,
and Bafta speculations.
So, you are the world's greatest expert on "The World's Greatest Book"?
I be.
And just what would that book be?
The London Metropolitan Phone Directory!
Get Out!
What did I say?
Eric! Where's the proper guest?
Um, he's not here. He developed an allergy to india ink and is being held incommunicado in an Illiteracy Sanitarium in Lusk.
And you were going to tell me this, when?
Ah. I meant to.
Thanks very much.
You're welcome.
You're Fired!
Ach. No, I'm not. It's a dromedary position.
You mean an "hereditary" position?
No, that's a sort of Arctic Camel, isn't it?
Suits you to a "C".
Are you making fun of me? I'll 'ave my shop steward in on you, like a sack o' Portland! I won't be talked to like this! I have rights!
Two of them, from the way you walk...
What? Insulating my gait, now?
Ah, no. Just admiring your shoes. It's been years since I've seen anyone with the talent to wear two right shoes...
Ah. No. It's not a talent. It was an war injury. Bit of a mix up in the tent at Dar Es Salaam during a sandstorm after me and a mate were maimed by a Jerry landmine.
How absolutely absorbing. The kind of tale the Stun would be interested in. Probably pay, also.
Thought of that, but it wouldn't work, on an account of botulism.
Another problem from the war?
Ah, no. Me nephew works at the Stun.
Where did that fellow with the phone book get to? I could really use him about now!
He went back to the World Telecom office, to push the teacart around to the carbuncles...
You mean the "cubicles"?
Nah, them are the things that catch on yer pocket that hang off yer fingers, aren't they? The bit of irritating skin by the nail?
Good night, everybody!
