Greetings from Phallogocentrism

"Whoa there, what ARE you talking about? Maureen, it's getting a bit poemy down here."

(Wish you weren't)

{The picture side of a postcard. In the upper left quadrant: TEXTY TEXTY TEXTY TEXTY, a lowercase q with tilde and ogonek, labelled POLISH LETTER. In the upper right: a fleeing quadruped marked ELK. In the lower left: π?! ηβφ! In the lower right: a small house with an arrow pointing to its back garden, labelled THIS IS GRANDAD BEHIND THE HOUSE. And across the centre of the postcard: Greetings from Phallogocentrism.}

{The reverse of the same card.} Dear Reader, Having a lovely time and no room on this postcard. Am stuck in a black-and-white text (no colour this trip). Mind the cow dung! GEWISCHTETURM (14en Jahreszeit) Made in the 19^th Urlaubfahren, one of Textland's biggest landmarks.

{A message box with mouse pointer whizzing towards it. The message box has Minimize and Maximize buttons and the text "Attention! Click STOP to STOP".}

PLEASE NAME YOUR SIGN NOW ........ on the dotted line

ON THE LINED DOT!

A Geoffrey who Simond a Liz

A poem that started a page
Got its author in rather a rage
For the cobbled mistaken
Had twelve many of bacon
And its meaning was tricky to gauge.

A person who purchased a disk
At considerable financial risk
Found entirely no remedy
For his one meg of memory
And this made him thoroughly pisk (off).

A poet who easily rhymed
"Salmonella" with "Nastily-Grimed"
Was alarmed and perturbed
And insanely disturbed
So they locked him away (most unkind).

A Geoffrey who Simond a Liz
Once appeared on a crap TV quiz
He was far too abstruse
So they gave him abuse
And some Abba, Kim Wilde and Bucks Fizz.

Mrs Potato Head

Theodora sat on a seven-stooled leg and rhymed with apple-corer. Her hair was kind of mauve with odd stripey speckles of greeny potato, yet for some as yet undefined and unexplained reason her head was octagonal and made out of mashed potato.

"An interesting sculpture," said Arthur unbelievingly; "more have I known and less have I spoke, but never in the field of grungy bungies have I seen, heard or even tasted with the oral perspicaciously reticulated flodgeons–"

He broke off because Theodora took out a gratuitous chainsaw and lopped off his gratuitous head. He was replaced at once by
  (a) Adrian-Swayne Hollis
  (b) Dalvador Rushdí
  (c) a small puddle of smelly offal
[DELETE THE LEAST OFFENSIVE].

Bleen and grue

"How scriptable are you?" said Theodora to Arthur, pensively. Arthur wrote, secretly, in a small book he had recently acquired. Something surreal happened, then Arthur began to fall like a sign, singing the while, having forgotten to write any floor. Salman Rushdie passed him, chuckling. "All writing is suicidal," he said. "I've killed myself in the act of blasphemy and will be rewarded. Ironic!"

But was it as simple as that? Find out next yesterday!

As tasteless as page two four ^(!) has been
Be thankful that it isn't green
Nor grue or bleen neither
Though the green is either
This page is quite ultramarine.

A girl who mistook four for two
Was in some doubt as to what she should do
So she vented her spleens
(Whatever that means)
And concluded her text had b(l)een grue.

Where's the plotsky?

Arthur entered the scene once more. "I'm back," he cried, "yet the question remains – where's the plot? Into what context should it be put? Can it avoid being in one?" Theodora agreed. "Together we can beat them," she said.

Leon Trotsky?

Yes, yea, it was Trotsky (the Eminent Goldfish Bovlo of Hovel).

There is an old fellow called Trotsky
Who has suddenly entered the plotsky
In one context's confine
His "real name" is Bronstein
Though after the ice-axe he's notsky.

Crosswords

It's page 2, and still the word text hasn't been mentioned – so, allow me!

T  E  X  T    What are they?
O  L  E  R    Or who are they
T  I  N  O    <ils>?
A  M  O  G    Gosh, these extra
L  I  M  L    columns are a
   N  O  O    pain (printer).
   A  R  D    No, they're really
   T  P  Y    rather good - you
   I  H  T    can charge twice
   O  I  E    as much for the
   N  C  S    book (publishing
  (of)        magnate).

{Magazine cover, with a large cross}

CRUSADER MONTHLY

Inside
* Saracens - 10 ways to spot them
* The finer points of doctrine - explained by His Holiness Martin Luther
* Tips on what to wear in the Holy Land
* A site by site guide to the best booty, infidels, etc
* Win a trip to heaven - tear off the coupon inside for an extra free indulgence

Reboot

The Book II

"This time it's personal." ™

"May God bless it and all who sail write in it."

"Breath of yours my sails must fill, or else my project fails." Shakespeare.

That's quite enough about breath, God, persons, &c. Long live writing.

sail --> write.

Right!

Welcome to my new handwriting style.
Welcome to the second time round.
Welcome to Another Madness.
Welcome to the fifteenth dimension.
Welcome to The Wordsworths for Windows™.

This series continues in the Penguin Classic tradition – each book a different size and shape from the preceding(s).
    (of the Aristotelian Society).

[monthly, in boing! minor to the seventh power of wiggy. 2? 7!]