A little moment of respite, here, in my ongoing fort-holding efforts for the itinerant Mephistophelian medico. Today’s escapee is, if only I steer clear of the second person and the letter Q, somewhat less of a challenge than its esteemed predecessors, or indeed the consonants to come. Not really a proper lipogram, this is more of an intermission; which is only reasonable in the context of eight perfs on the trot. The Doctor is a hard taskmaster: “Post every day!” he admonished. If only I managed to post so often to my own blog…
It isn’t as if I have nothing better to do; even if we ignore, as seems best, work, which can hardly be described as “better” — day after day grooming the sprinting dogs of imperialist capitalism — there’s a whole host of entertainments, spectacles, diversions, hobbies, pastimes, addictions, cravings, follies, scandals, disgraces and assorted depravities that I might be misspending my time on rather than this; and evidently plenty who wish I’d do exactly that. Or at least blog those things in every sordid detail, rather than playing silly word games.
Nevertheless, here I am, with silly word games in tow. Why?
I need a holiday, frankly, and bizarre as it may seem, this is it. Sorry folks, this is all simply an expression of my own escapism, a fleeing from my life. Instead of lazing on a beach or trekking in sodden rainforest I’m twiddling letters on some foreign website. Perverse, no? What kind of vacation is that?
Well, a change is as good as a rest. And it’s hard to be oneself when alienated from one’s own lingo. Like Stencil, I get to do eight impersonations.
Hey ho. That’s it for the vowels, anyway. The road ahead is looking awkward indeed. Three more days in ill-fitting drag; ach, that’s not so many.
Take ’em or leave ’em.
Good sir, heed not the whinging of the hoi polloi. This week’s posts seem entirely within the spirit of the good Doctor’s best works. Keep on keeping on with the missing vowel theme (or not; the choice is thine). Next time get rid of two? Or even 2.5, letter 25 being sometimes voweleriffic.
I’m impressed you’ve been able to keep it up so far. Writing so many paragraphs without a particular vowel would require, for me, more coffee than I’m willing to drink!
I have to confess, when you refer to Faustus as “the Doctor,” my mind automatically inserts “off on assignment in his TARDIS.”
It’s a sickness, I know.
Last week, when Rudi Bakhtiar sat in for Anderson Cooper,Pacific-eyed silver surfer of my heart, I was momentarily bereft. This was mitigated by two things: 1. I managed to actually hear the news instead of my own mental stream of Burt Bacharach narrating my unrequited love for Anderson, Pacific-eyed silver surfer of my heart, and 2. Rudi brought fair and balanced estrogen into my evening routine. Rudi got practice, we got a new perspective, and Anderson, on vacation, got anything but laid, because I can’t bear the thought.
Anyway, I mean to say: hurray for Matt, whose blog I will now follow; Faustus, get some work done; readers stop whining and be readers and not whiners.
I’m embarrassed to reveal that I didn’t even realize what the game was about until today’s post. I was just enjoying the odd and unique lilt of the prose.
People were complaining? Fuck ’em.