31 March 2008


I have a favourite blogger, the Lord Seditionista. Actually he's also a favourite friend from my happy and formative years in WA state in the US of A, but I think one's meant to be over formative experiences by the ancient age of 30 so I don't push it.

I also don't push it because El Sed is a Mountain Man and Lord of the Nitekrüe and I'm a lounge lizard in the good old mould of British fops and villains.

I don't quote Sed as often as I would like because a) I would be done for copyright and b) Most of my readers I now bump into are foppy old soaks like me with Union Jack boxer shorts, bottles of retsina secreted under the bed and very little savvy of the zeitgeist. In fact, very little savvy of what the word means which is why I patronise you with that link.

For a start, they'd be banging their monitors - "Stupid monitor! Make focus the headline!" after which they would wait til sunset and the second chota peg before exchanging glances and fixing me with that amused curl of the lip: "Yes, well, some of us gave your sedition blog a whirl and ... frankly, we're a bit puzzled what we're meant to be looking for ...."

Note - *my* sedition blog; guilty by association. And, of course, got to be 'looking for something' or what's the point?

The good thing about not endlessly quoting from seditious tracts is that I can sans explanation put a good piece up there and not "fuck up the endgame", to quote the eponymous end title from Charlie Wilson's War.

They should thank me for giving their lip curls such robust exercise. I can almost write tonight's script down the Bucket of Beer (you didn't believe we sink to such names): "Yarss, well, saw your latest offering ... very amusing ... guilty as charged, I suppose ... but I still didn't get it. Is it a sort of running joke over there?"

Everything is "over there" where the Lounge Lizard is concerned. Despite my eccent being clipper than before I jumped ship in Puget Sound, I'm defiled by having slept with the enemy; as for 'over there' and the enemy, I'm Exhibit A David Niven soundalike.

When the Beer Bucketeers express puzzlement at SimpleCity, I had better have my line ready: "Dear boy - so very sorry. You should have bellowed at the bally old 'puter,

"Stoopid Sedition - be more embracey!"

(And get the spelling of 'manager' right - be less cribby.)

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