BM #21 It is a law of something or other that when
temperatures rise, so do bad tempers! There is no more efficient incubator of violent crime than a
hot climate, and therefore I view this business of
global warming with great concern!
For every one-degree rise in temperature, murder and mayhem rates
rise by 3.68 per cent . Meanwhile, according to tables worked out by my dear sister Athena, who is a
world-famous scientist, the general temperature worldwide will be six degrees hotter by 2100
a.d.!
Further, S.E.A.R. records disclose that from 1950 to 1995 there were an average of 215 assaults
and murders per 100,000
people each year. Six more degrees’ rise in temperature will cause a bloodbath!
Still, millions
will choose to broil in crime-ridden nations whilst perfectly good real estate down in Greenland can
be
had for a song.
I doubt we shall be affected by any heat-induced
crime wave as Greenland is a tropical resort compared to
Swinehurst 
Never mind all that crime-and-violence hoo-ha , the
point must be made
that hot climates are quite ruinous to the complexion
No worries, once the climate heats up all the dinosaurs will come out of hiding and
eat everyone who hasn't been murdered
BM #20 It is said that In the Land of the Blind the One-eyed Man is King, but if this
describes you, dear reader, try to contain your excitement until you are well outside the village
gates! In
the Land of the Blind, the One-eyed Man is in mortal danger! Becoming a King is quite out of the
question! You are far more likely to be burnt at the stake!
One-eared persons are not much better off, and I do not count that Van Gogh
fellow who had only himself to thank
If you are missing an ear just get yourself a nice full
peruke and no one will be the wiser, but don't go to any wig-makers in the Land of the Blind or you will
wind up looking like poor Mozart
BM# 21 My dear sister Athena tells me that diet and exercise regimens based on human
blood types
are the latest craze on the mainland, and I think there may be something to this theory. My own blood
is type 0 which, I am given to understand, is the primal blood, coming straight down from the
ancients whom Godless scientists have identified as Cro-Magnon Man. This explains why type 0
likes red meat (food which had to be hunted down and killed) and bruising sport while others of the
later-developing A or B types may prefer to take little walks and eat plants.
Of course the greatest proof of this blood theory must be my nephew, whose blood is type C, for
which uninterrupted sloth is prescribed, and for which a diet of biscuits and gin is
indicated.
Unscientific
nonsense, just another excuse for these short-lived creatures to vex one
another about diet and exercise when at any moment an asteroid might put paid to us all, Yetis and
humans alike
Past BM's
BM#1 A liking for bagpipes,Christmas crackers, Fourth of July fireworks,
car
crashes, explosions, screams, shots fired, dynamite detonations and other loud
noises is what separates us from the animals. If you don't believe it just try taking your dog to the
philharmonic next time they give The 1812 Overture.
BM#2Smart
commuters always carry a small hand mirror to allay any anxieties about nasal hygiene, as
it is the chief cause of unwanted stares from other passengers. It is also amusing to lash out the
mirror at strangers so that they can see their own nostrils, but this convivial prank
is prohibited by bus drivers on sunny days for fear of being blinded by incessant flashing in the rear
view
mirrors.
BM#3 One glance at the seed catalogs will tell gardeners that
entirely too much attention is paid to cucumbers. The very nature of this proud vegetable
has been altered beyond recognition by horticultural mischiefmakers with too much time on their
hands. If all the thought and scheming that went into burpless seedless frost-resistant
rot-resistant jumbo three-foot-long albino self-slicing cucumbers was applied to
tobacco,
none of us would have to give up smoking. But no. We will all be dead while indestructable
cucumbers
live on to blanket the earth.
Cucumbers don't agree with me but put
out a nice plate of bratwurst and I'm your man
BM#4 A host of Christian preachers
has reared up in
turn-of-the-century frenzy, terrorizing everyone with this business about the End of the
World. If you are really a Christian your next stop is Heaven, so whatever is there to be
frightened
about? Personally, I quite look forward to it.
As to the Endtime Entrepreneurs, instead of building broadcast empires and getting rich on
Millenial hoopla, why aren't they giving away all they own to the poor while there's
still
time? Just come around our place (Swinehurst, dank and dreary ancestral manor of
Clan Rohde
) and
apart from the computer you won't find a stick of furniture.
A word to the wise Christian: dress your best at all times because once you are
translated into your
eternal
form you will be wearing that outfit for infinity, and you wouldn't want to have tea with George
Washington or that crowd while wearing sweatpants and a football jersey.
Who can think with all this racket going on, that's what I'd like to
know
BM#5 It is a law of something or other that Consciousness
Lags Behind Being. This explains why schools are all but mouldering in
the grave
while homelearning is on the rise. I am all for it! Schools are responsible for all the misery and
rubbish in the world. They have been obsolete for some time as they have even
less to do with learning to cope than they do with learning grammar, but they remain
as
warehouses, chockablock with children of the working class. Along the same lines, universities
have erupted all over
the
landscape, fattening on an arrangement whereby
without their chits one had no hope of employment beyond ditchdigging or Civil Service, as
it were. Alas, those may soon be the only occupations left standing!
Now that millions have been thrown out of work there may be more
children staying at home and
learning worthwhile things in freedom, so university professors had
better demand
excellent pension plans before it's too late. Personally I have my doubts about those fellows
; only last week I overheard one of them haranguing patrons of the local library , blithering
on and on about Watership Down
as though it were a fairy tale of some kind! Of
course I spoke up at once but
thousands wouldn't! Young people would do well read on their own instead of scribbling down
some buggy-eyed git's remarks and catching cold in overheated, germ-ridden classrooms. A
comfortable chair, a nice cup of tea and a good book, that's the shiny shilling,
children! Meanwhile, as the
actor Robert Morley once said,
"Show me a man who enjoyed his school days and I will show you a bully and a bore."
True, but what about fish? What if rivers and streams were
cauldrons of anarchy, with fish roiling and roistering all over the place? We have much to learn from
the finny tribe, upon whose schools countless predators depend for hearty meals! I for one quite
like a nice haddock now and then
BM#6 It is well known that certain occupations
betray a dangerous mental
disturbance, and if these jobs were eliminated from society we would all be better off. Chief among
these are: oboe playing, ice hockey goaltending, air traffic controlling , Latin teaching and tow-truck
driving. Persons of quality would do well to avoid contact with any poor souls who eke out a living in
these ways.
Here comes the most exciting part so don't click out if you
know what's good for you
BM#7 The day is not far off when vegetarians will be called
to account
for
their cruel
treatment of
plants. Do these leafy creatures and their offspring not live, breathe, enjoy music and a friendly
chat as much as the next fellow? Yet millions of innocent, lively plants are grown in captivity to be cut
down , sliced or torn to bits, boiled, mashed and then eaten. No doubt they suffer horribly! Now,
vegetarians don’t think twice about gobbling down a watercress sandwich, but put a leg of mutton on
the sideboard and there’ll be chairs thrown every which way. Hypocritical nonsense, if you ask me.
Every time a person inhales, he or she is responsible for the slaughter of countless microscopic
lives, as I learned during my time among the Anthropopagi of Greenland, so unless you have
stopped breathing don’t get on your high horse about the rights of all creatures great and
small.
BM#8 Young people are often criticized for caring not a whit about politics, but I for one
think this is a
very sensible attitude. With the exception of George Washington politicians throughout history
have all been just so many bloated sheep ticks. What sort of person goes around making a blasted
nuisance of himself from door to door, trying to persuade total strangers that he’ll speak up for them
against hundreds of fellows speaking against them? What in blazes can they all be speaking about
year after year? Doesn’t The Civil Service run everything in the end? I am afraid no one took his point
when Tsar What’s His Name cried out, “I never ruled Russia! A Thousand Clerks ruled Russia.”
Perhaps if he had spoken up about it a bit sooner it might have sent Lenin and that crowd back to the
drawing board, where they would have seen just how unfitted they were to go the distance. What, a
mere fifty years and they’re out on their bums in the snow? No wonder today’s young people put no
stock in politics.
Nevertheless I hope you will all vote for my
candidates in the next election as I would hate to be in your shoes if the other fellows win, bunch of
bleeding hearts like that Clinton fellow who by the way DID inhale, long and continuously
BM#9 Every list of the world’s great inventions must include the following: duct tape,
self-sealing
plastic packets, tinfoil and the player piano. Seafarers at risk of being marooned on a desert island
should keep these items close at hand, taking care to fill the packets with some nice, loose tea
beforehand.
I don't call that a list of great inventions. What about
wigs? I never travel without a nice peruke, so long and so full of hairs that it will protect me in all
weathers and yet it folds to fit in a snuff-box neat as you please.
BM#10 It’s no good pestering God with questions about the things he has set in motion, or
we would
long since have gone mad from the answers. Even when we are all in Heaven it would be wise to start
out with polite, smallish inquiries before hammering away on War, Poverty, Disease and the like.
By all means please avoid any mention of Wrath and Vengeance until after THE END,
when everyone's
passports have been well and truly cancelled. To bide your time until the rest of us arrive, you might
ask why only two sets of teeth are allotted to our species, but don’t
bring this up if George Washington is around. Ask instead why it is that
most
politicans have large ears, or why the Loch Ness Monster is not as forthcoming as Godzilla. Just
stick to these Frequently Asked Questions At The Big TeaTable for openers, and don't ask You
Know Who about film stars or we'll all spend eternity trying to get a word in edgewise .
BM # 11 A
billboard recently washed up on the strand and I could not believe
my eyes at what I saw printed on it, big as life, namely this legend: COMMIT RANDOM ACTS OF
KINDNESS. I think this is dispositive evidence that the people on the mainland have all gone mad
for slogans and fakery. There can be nothing random about acts of kindness! These are among the
most deliberate acts of will! Anyone who tramps about committing kind acts higgledy-piggledy
should have his brains examined, as this behaviour requires the suspension of normal adult
mental activity. In this condition one might inadvertently give aid and comfort to a ruiner of souls, a
vile beast who deserves not kindness but rebuke and scorn!! As to polite society, we must all be kind
to one another as a constant virtue, none of this random business, and we must take particular
pains to be kind wherever indifference is most keenly felt. No whimsy nor treacly billboard mottoes
must be allowed to trivialize this bounden duty!
BM # 12 Entirely too much liquid is consumed by the average person, and the blame
for this may be laid squarely on the doorstep of physical culture faddists. They are responsible for
one dangerous craze after another, and the worst is this notion that health-minded people would do
well to drink SIX TO EIGHT LARGE GLASSES OF WATER A DAY. It would be hard to imagine a habit
more destructive to the human shape, as the kidneys can only process six CUPS of liquid
altogether in a day! Is it any wonder that half the world’s population is sluggish, overweight and
hideously bloated? Consider the effect of gallons of water topping off one’s tea and milk (and gin, in
my nephew’s case)! Think of all that liquid backing up and swelling one’s tissues to the snapping
point! No, the secret to a healthy figure is and has ever been six cups of tea a day, hot and sweet, a
nice soft-boiled egg every morning, roast beef on Sunday, thirteen hours of sleep each night, and
never mind staying awake all hours to force down enormous quantities of tasteless unboiled
water.
Yes,and as proof you need only to glance at the
appalling Bingo. There are lovelier specimens on any gamekeeper's gibbet but mum's the word
for his mother's sake
BM # 13 There are certain individuals who argue that the story of Jonah and the Whale
is not an accurate account but rather a symbolic tale. Why they should take this view, which is quite
unscientific and presumptuous, I know not. My grandfather, Col. S.L.A.M. “Gordon” Rohde, was
once swallowed up by a whale off the coast of Greenland and might have perished but for the
intervention of that country’s tireless whalers. When they gutted the great mammal, out tumbled
Grandad, unconscious and white as snow from head to foot! All the color had been leached from his
body by the whale’s stomach acids! The albino effect was only temporary, and before long he was
back pounding the teatable and shouting at the help as if nothing had ever happened. It was not long
afterwards that he slipped back to Australia, where he may still be hiding, but for that matter he may
be anywhere so keep your voice down if you criticize you-know-what Bible story whilst
philosophizing at the public house tonight.
Poor Ludwig, a good
fellow but deaf as a post which you may ascertain from this present bit of
organ-grinding
BM #14 The alarming increase in cases of
occipital
neuralgia, sciatica and other spinal disorders
reported by chiropractors worldwide might have been prevented entirely, but people will insist on
sitting stock-still for protracted periods of time.
We were not meant to sit, staring at electronic boxes or peering through rainswept windshields
hours on end! We were meant to stand and run about freely at regular intervals!
Readers, do get up at once and go to the kitchen, and after you have had your tea (hot, strong and
sweet) bring the cook’s timer back with you to your accustomed station. Set it for half an hour and
when it rings you must get up, walk around the room several times, perhaps whirling like a top for
good measure and leaping about on the table and chairs before coming to rest and re-setting the
timer.
After a week of this practice you may find yourself venturing outdoors, even in inclement weather,
the better to leap about, eventually dancing and singing and turning cartwheels up and down the
garden path! This, plus thirteen hours’ sleep each night in a nice plump feather bed, will keep you
out
of spinal danger.
BM #15 It is instructive to consider that things which were once beheld in astonishment are hardly
spared a thought today. I well remember the first time I set eyes on a plastic ball-point pen, a birthday
gift from my dear sister Athena. It was the first bit of plastic I had ever seen, bright red and with a
delightfully sharp, tangy smell to it, quite a new sensation, dear readers! Once I learned how to
operate the thing, I could scarcely believe I was writing at all, as it made no sound! No
scritch-scratch across the paper! No blotter required!
How is it that we do not even know the name of the person who invented this extraordinary writing
device, which has saved billions upon billions of plaited tresses, shirtsleeves, cuffs and
tablecloths from inky ruin?
BM # 16 During my travels this past summer I made it a point to observe
life on
the
mainland, where many of my readers and correspondents permanently dwell. In particular I was
very keen to find out all I could about the dazzling technologies which promise to bring great
changes worldwide. While I was delighted at these marvellous innovations, I was
nevertheless forced to conclude that WHILE COMPUTERS WERE FILLING UP, HUMAN BRAINS
WERE EMPTYING!
Unprecedented amounts of information on all subjects are freely at
hand, but very few mainlanders avail themselves of it. They do not seek to improve their minds or to
make well-informed decisions! On the contrary, I found the mainland populations to be steeped in
confusion and in the most deliberate mental passivity. I can only guess that they will allow nothing
to
interfere with their personal grudges and stratagems ! Can this be why they have made a pig’s
breakfast of politics, producing governments the likes of which have not been seen since the time
of
Ethelred the Unready?
Further, I was astonished to hear young people on the mainland constantly referred to as
“Generation X.” Yes, it’s true! When first I heard this expression I naturally expected chairs to be
thrown, but apparently this offensive term is common coin! What, an entire generation reduced to
an unknown cipher?
All the intelligence and technology in the world cannot compensate
the young for such degradation, nor can respect for their elders long endure if it is not reciprocated. I
don’t mind telling you I came away with renewed appreciation for the brilliant young citizens of
Cyberlag Archipelago, who do well to avoid the indignities of mainland life!
BM #17 Several guests and
correspondents have put it to me that Classical
Music is dead, Opera included, and that anyone creating such music today might just as well get a
tin cup and sell pencils for a living. I am very sorry to say I must agree! Murder most
foul has been committed by greed-crazed “celebrities” like those fellows Luciano Pepperroni and
Flacido Mandingo, whose extortionate performance fees have left the cupboards bare! They have
left not a scrap on the ground for anyone else! It is they who have starved classical music to death!
The world is a poorer place for its overfeeding of these crowd-pleasers, make no mistake. I for one
shall not renew my concert subscriptions this season, as I would pay to hear The Singing Dogs
before I would ever pay to see Luciano and Flacido's preening Vaudeville act
!
GUEST BM
!BRAVO! I once recorded 27 arias
and for that I
got $100.,pretty big money for an hour and a half singing in those days! But this is an infamia what
these tenors do now! First chance I get, I slap
their faces, non te preocupare! -E.
Caruso
So that's where my pencils went! Hand over those tin
cups and spare me the waterworks or I'll have your tripes on toast! Bunch of idlers and crybabies!
BM#18 It is at this time of year that I instruct the staff to take stock of all our
worldly
goods, with a view towards getting rid of unnecessary clutter. I am constantly amazed at the heaps
of ridiculous gewgaws and gadgets many people accumulate! This condition is attributable to the
gift-giving mania which characterizes all holiday celebrations today. Only last week the hounds
dragged up a mail-order catalogue from the strand, and I‘ll tell you what it was called because you’ll
never guess it: “Christmas Gifts for the Man Who Has Everything.” For pity’s sake! If a fellow already
has everything, I should think he’d want to give some of it away, not vice versa!
For starters he might seek out the Man Who Has Lost Everything! These two extraordinary fellows
account for half the stories in the newspapers!
BM# 19 If people would only exercise their inner ear apparatus there would be much less shouting
in public places, particularly where old parties foregather. Practice this simple exercise, which
was shown to me by a Sufi musician years ago, and you will have the auditory acuity of a timber wolf
in no time:
Press both your ears shut tight with your index fingers, and hammer on the obstructing index
fingernails with the tips of your middle fingers. Do this twenty times, then each side individually ten
times. After a few months of once-a-day hammering you will be able to hear the flatus of a mouse at 50
paces.
If I weren't deader than Bonaparte's nuts I'd fix my doctors good
and proper for not telling me about that particular exercise
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