"Aachooptkqw3" lied Mrs Pumblechook.
That is grammatological, birdseye.
"Aranjasquiddle" is a very odd wordseye. Some scientips beloove it behoves from the 14th millenniummiunmummymoomoo BC/BD/AQ. But I disagree, me I say "ningi" in very very very {scrawl} illegible handwriting, "Pap!"
Mr Spock teleported down from the Enterprise. "Glas?" he queried. "That is illogical, Craptain." This format has been was with God and manglewurzle bits of cement drip drip drip he went. None could
{A few words in a non-existent writing system}
(language, Timotei!)
The plot stood up, stood down, won the Election and then strode off in an entirely new dissection. "Sarajevo!" came the cry. "Apple crumble," came the
pie
п nibal!"
Misplaced quotreəг-
г^~/
{dribbles away into the non-existent writing system}
"Who's Ed?" asked the
In one column, different text, always
however, things already. "But I think "The green
were beginning we've got Hannibal!" is either."
to happen. The "Is it catching?" asked "The author
text had got Han- the Plot. "So is the is dead."
nibal, but Mañuel nature of the sign," it Barthes
was preserved by responded, "I can sing "The author
incomprehension a rainbow three." It is wet."
— and pickling. had survived because Bath
"¿Que?" he asked. the clipf was only "I do love
"¡Que!" said a connotative. Bath."
caveman, pointing. "Ugug," he continued, pointing
to himself. So the sign fell. "Clank!" it went, on
Mañuel's head. "Orighkinal Siggn," he read. "This
way up." "I know that!" said the caveman, "I wrote
it!" "So writing really did come first!" Mañuel
clucked. "That's why chickens all say 'book, book'."
This format has been discontinued
for reasons of tedium and indifference.
The hills are alive! Heil! Good
morning.
Wyrd biþ ful araede custard
"God. Gone — gone, dear What are we going to
dear Goddy," Sir Laurence put here? I don't
exclaimed, cut to the quick. know (ed.)
"Now look here, folks," the
president interrupted. This is a really good
"Read my lips — no new space filler (ed.)
irrelevancies — ha! That's
difficult to lip read, God this is boring.
isn't it?!"
The Screaming Lord retreated "I never forget a face
steadily as Nosferatu but in your case I make
grimaced horribly at him. an exception." Marx
But 007 was too quick, as
were the A Team, and Mr T's "To be is to do" Plato
DIY devil-expeller/staple "To do is to be" Sartre
remover/deodorant/lawnmower "Dobee dobee do" Sinatra
succeeded in shifting the
creature to another plane. "Text" Liz
"I love it when a plan comes
together," quoth Hannibal, "Arg" Judith
deliberately repeating
himself, remembering that it "Mou-mou" Simon
was all a different text now
anyway. "¿Que?" Manuel
"Who's Ed?" asked the hebbly-wortle sadly.
"God, that makes me so sick," lied Geoffrey, whose hair had just swum the Channel. "Where's Medusa?" shouted the crabbage. "There's only one M in seventy-seven," pretended 349 Scrabble pobbles, but there was little still to text.
"Everybody weird, everybody bleared," and a squirrel leapt out of an eggbox. "Put them in the fridge," claimed all the nines of nabobness, despite all mammothy growns twinglent snodgel crunk.
"I understand now," gooned the plot, and jumped off the nearest clifp.
THE END
"IN MY END" T.S. Eliot said "Is my beginning"
"Six eggs, half a kilo of elephants and a tin of text."
"The book has let itself be thought as such." p.300
"Meta-ta-ta-tatatatextual" screamed Such, "rapping" as I believe it is called. "Let there be light...
and light was over all. Why am I thus bereaved thy prime decree? O dark dark d-d-d-dark-ark-ark!"
And Milton appeared, epic for revenge. At this point Nietzsche remarked that, according to subsequent intertextuality (The Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy), should the abovementioned puritanical and myopic poet succeed in "Justifying the ways of God to men", in all probability the Deity would disappear. This, furthermore, was irrelevant. "Because I killed him!" said Nietzsche.
"This (therefore) will not have been a book)" p.1
"So what will it have been, when it is?" asked Arthur.
"Before the beginning and after the end," contributed Eliot.
"So what?" inquired Arthur, or "To be conscious
"so when?" at any rate. "I'm is not to be in
late" said the at this point in time..." ECP p.***
White Rabbit, plot the charact-
"and I think ers, insofar etc, "A tale told by an
some descrip- were situated in idiot" Macbeth
tion might be a large white Act * Scene * ll *
appropriate." negative space,
"What, is he traversed by blue "Spoken as a
dead, then?" lines called for grapheme, written
asked Sir some reason as a phoneme, in a
Laurence "feint", although word, gramophoned!"
Olivier and they were UG p.47
Gerard Manley perfectly
(ish) Hopkins, perceptible, "Some critical
in unison. "No, but you are!" reactions to this
said Arthur and Nietzsche. book." Anon.
VOTE COMPLETELY OTHER!
Johann Gambolputty de von Ausfern-schplendern-schlitter- crasscren-bon-fried- digger-dingle-dangle-dongle-dungle-burstein- von-knacker-thrasher- apple-banger-horowitz-ticolensic- granderknotty-spelltinkle- grandlich-kurstlich- himbleiser-bahnwagen- guten-abend-bitte- ein-nürnbürger-bratwurstle- gespurten-mit-zweimacher-luber- hundsfut-gumberaber-schönendanker- kalbsfleisch-mittleraucher von Hauptkopf of Ulm entered and fell over.
Syllable by syllable, like a long and disarticulate insect, he got up again, followed by himself.
"Damn, the plot's gone missing again," remarked Arthur, casually driving a steak through the heart of the nearest vampire. "Oh but there is," replied Prof Karswell. "You though I was dead — but now, I'm undead." And so it was.
"That's rare — a steak," said Arthur.
"That's a rare steak," said Arthur's negative space.
"That's a stare rake," said Arthur's negative time.
"Thyme?" enquired Parsley, sage and Rosemary.
"No, but squeaky beetroots have been sighted, both past and future," exclaimed the plot personified.
