There's no one quite like Lizzy
And I'm sure you will agree
She really keeps you busy
Though she thinks she is a tree
And one day when we're madder
We'll look back and say
There's no one quite like Lizzy
She's crazier than she was today.
Bin icon to click dustbin sonnet.
Arthur, hero of our fragmented tale,
Midst signs heterodox and garrulous
Articulation always perilous,
O'er nonsense seemed unlikely to prevail.
The word ever plural, duplicitous,
Betrayed him still in many a hopeful seeming
Left him to wail "Where did I put my meaning?"
Whilst offering others, quite solicitous,
Insistent in despite of his intent.
Resourceful chap, and innovative yet
New forms did he discover or invent
To curb the implicit connotative that
Deprived him constantly of what he meant
Frail hope! Form, self-referring, is content.
{dustbin icon, mouse pointer, and message box}
Click dustbin icon to bin sonnet. [OK]
There's no one quite like Derrida
And I'm sure you will agree
He's old enough to be a grandpa
But he keeps trying to write philosophy
There's no one quite like grandma
Don't let a bad word be said
Yet she's been seeming ever calmer
Which isn't surprising 'cos she's dead.
Mr Jebbly Wally. Esquisho ££@{fish}
a) This sentence is not self-enacting, but no wait a minute! Yes it is!
b) This sentence contradicts itself — except — no it doesn't!
c) This gubblick contains several non-sklarkish English flutzpahs, but the overfall pluggandisp can be glorked from context.
"So what is the pluggandisp of pluggandisp?" (Saussure). [sosýR]
"Horrible hell-mangles!" screamed Arthur. "What's happen-ping?"
"Sum-text is fleebing my avocado and cauliflower dip." His mind was afflicted by words for which no concepts had yet proved necessary. "Rampant referents! For God's sake don't think!" But it was too late. With a small armadillo, God appeared. The armadillo was called Matthew Aristotle. But this was only important to him, and when. And whatsoever.
OR HERE! ORE HEAR! AWE HAIR!
Welcome to Page 47 from the End.
(The celery is already being prepared for the big Crunch)
Just as I had suspected! The end of the universe is vegetarian.
Hello to boldly goodbye, sweet shuffle-coil.
Appendages that make you go bang.
Trinitrotoluene makes you go bang too.
Things that go ha-ha-ha-plonk in the night.
Eric the half-a-bang (he went bang as well).
Rubbish! It's a total pile of old rubbish. ^
M -. |
A | |
D /_ / {[(def rdc ((setq y cdr(x))(reverse y)))]}
A \
S | (I'm sorry I have a Lithp.
A -'
DO NOT WRITE ANYTHING HERE!
"Night fell," said Boobly-Boo the Bunny-Bath, but she was lying.
Night fell. Nothing moved, except for a small squiggly omelette-faced poker-gobbler who lived under a muddy stone at the bottom of the River Shiver.
All was still. Completely other.
GOVERNMENT HELLFIRE MORNING:
"This book has a fractal-imaged cover.
Do not attempt to count the swirls.
Doing this can seriously damage your
brain. Writing the rest of this sentence
can result in old porridge showering
mouldily through a hammock of oafs."
"Flibbertigibbon!" said Arthur, rematerialising after a huge absence of MANY pains. "I really thought I'd vanished for never into a queasy queaky squeezy cliqué saneless weirdbag of salmonella droppings — but it's all right ('twas just the weather aftercast).")
"Can I help you?" mused Bertie, the Perplexed Beaver from Outer Mongo-away.
"Lemon meringue pie!" screeched Arthur.
"You're mad" said the sane mango, who wasn't in the picture, because he didn't know what he looked like.
"Glad to know someone is" said Arthur, who wasn't.
"You're odd" said the same mango (tho' it was still completely other). "Where's the yakky?" lied Prof. Carlsberg (or was it Kronenburg? Or Löwenbräu?).
And the advertising jingle went:
"Carlsberg Black Label."
And at the mention of the word "black", riots broke out in every major city in London.
Fish Diagram of the Bibliographical Narra-Escape
[FIŜO]
{picture of a large fish wearing shoes and a hat, and holding an umbrella; arrows proceed cyclically around the fish's outline, which is shaped like a closed alpha; three chevrons on its body point right towards its tail, and three on its tail point left towards its body}
["So that's where it went!" said Nietzsche in German]
Bison Diaphragm of the Billionological Marrow-Yawn
// CENSORED //
(Well, the content of the picture was so entirely unimaginable as to have made a sane man go "Wibblywobblybibbleeeebbrrdbrdrrbbddrblub".)
