Sinister: I was riding on the Mayflower when I thought I spied some LAAnnd (hic! start again)

[P F]

The last hello was affecting in the extreme.

The night before that I saw the Kaiser. Kaiser, I told
him, I mentioned you on sinister. He considered this
inadequate. - But Pinefox, quoth he, no-one knows who
'the Kaiser' is. Still - he knows his foot. ball.
But he doesn't even believe in my name.

For a while there I thought I was actually going to
stop at Tottenham Hale, which is more than I ever
managed in the 1980s. Suspect package at Liverpool
Street. Perhaps it contained the leopard from Lime
Street? But heave on, train, OK! magazine and all. The
magazine calls every actress ‘beautiful’, which is
almost true. Martine McCutcheon, it was later agreed,
was cherubically lovely.

The boozer was full like a tin of new potatoes. It was
relevant to YOU, just about. Here was Tom Ewing,
helpfully warning me: you’re too late to sing. I might
warn him – and you – in return: The Beard Is Back.
Here was Nick Dastoor, whom you won’t remember. He’d
had one or two, in the gear he won for playing in an
international footy tourney in the early 80s. And as
he’s not reading this, I don’t mind telling you he
looked gorgeous. There was much of the supermodel
about him.

Ewing duetted with Edna Welthorpe – who sucks and is
dumb, as reported last time – on the Pet Shop Boys.
She thought we hadn't heard her. Could we hear her?
I'm afraid so. The Carsmile had fulfilled a Lamacq
role, singing Carter USM covers, while looking like a
cross between the usual Mark E. Smith and the unusual
Robert Redford. Captain the Marvel had his song
stolen. If anyone's seen it, don't bring it back, for
the reasons the Kaiser has already explained. It's
time for the Captain to move on and conquer another
Irish tune. 

Dmrita said Kenneth Chu was everyone's favourite
listee. In the interests of balance, I feel it
incumbent on me to say the Chu is by no means and in
no way my favourite listee, and it would take a
holocaust of certain other listees to make him so.

Someone mentioned South Bend, Indiana. If I'm not
mistaken, James Stewart mentions it in The
Philadelphia Story, and the parodic Hepburn responds
magnificently, - Why, that sounds like *dancing*!

Meanwhile, Colonel Moore was back from the summit,
proclaiming that a square deal for Britain had been
attained, though not obtained, pending discussion at
medium spirit level. That reminds me, Elena99 said
'JD' was her song of the summer: which is handy,
because it is certainly not mine. Back to Mooro. I
shall not comment on his ability to bring a certain
energy, a certain bonhomie, a certain enthusiasm to a
scene, for that would sound as sycophantic as he
reputedly does on his record of Stuart Murdoch falling
on top of him. Suffice to say, he was barrelling down
the highway again this morning, and back again - the
A12, come to think of it - doing motorway services to
the world.

This reminds me of what constitutes something like an
event in sinister world, namely the arrival of Geneva
Convention Wesley Harding. Many others have rattled on
about her in the past, but I fear I have not always
understood her posts, because they were written in
Candadian. Yet unlike so many others, she actually
managed to live up to her billing. Not for GW the
half-assed, whining blend of bitchery and obscurantism
that with irregular frequency passes through this
town. Such fashionable vices are not hers; instead the
simple virtues: honesty, modesty, openness, humour,
interest. I'm not kidding - this kind of thing is a
pleasant shock these days, in my dotage, my decline,
my curmudgeon's century.

I missed the Lloyd Cole Night that Edna organized back
at the branch, but will Report Back nonetheless.

Debates were held on where to begin with Lloyd. Edna
and I agreed that you might as well go with
Rattlesenakes, if you like Tigermilk. But we think
that The Collection doesn't lack shrewdness, qua
virgin acquisition. B&S were played, and people said
they were great. It's a good thing I wasn't there, I
might have had to find a way to disagree. Biff Bang
Pow, Orange Juice and Felt were successfully
dispatched, or despatched - yes, that's the man, I
think - as Overrated. A Canadian university has been
running courses on Archetypes in The Little Mermaid.
So far three Archetypes have been identified.

1. The Mermaid (little).
2. The Fish.
3. The Octopus.

More to follow after marine research. Meanwhile, a
course has been analyzing the Breakdown of the
Critical Essay. My editor and I held a rival summit
meeting of our own, somewhere not at the very top of
Ludgate Hill, and agreed to blame Roland Barthes'
fragmentary methods. It was reported that The Care
Bear had gone for a job by telephone interview. But
*did she dress up for the occasion?* We don't know.
White socks in perry-boy comeback. To the Mayflower,
on what was a summer afternoon withal, Mooro brought
along a gorgeous green and yellow CD. His copy had
Times on it, which is more than I can say for mine
(there just wasn't Time). 8:49 for Stansted, not to be
confused with Paddington.

I heard that Honey had said something about my tummy.
I wish I could remember *why*.

Reports Back on Cookie's Kilt will have to wait for
the return of those who have seen beneath it.


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