How patient do you think we are? If you hadn’t noticed, the NHS is so overworked we cannot afford to be patient any longer. I, for one, have developed an ulcer waiting for this edition (post-dated letter) and have taken out an audience collection for my tummy potions.
I am surprised by your ennui, considering the tumultuous events in the interim hiatus for your mag. My only consolation is that I know you will not let us forget these events as you don’t concern yourself with instant news forgetting like other media.
I, and my menagerie of non-sentient animals, await this issue with baited rod (hope you appreciate the fishing metaphor).
Yours puzzled yet faithful,
Barabbas Stings of Little Patience, nr Gloucester.
What time do you call this?
While you were satirising on your r’s, the world was falling about our ears. Do you really expect us to remember events more than two days old: get a life subscription to Time magazine!
We will only forgive you if you make this issue uncomplicated and funny.
Margaret (Maggie) Zine of Little Interest, nr Lethargy, nr Milton Keynes.
Please get your keyboards sounding like a woodpecker on heat. We need to be suitably amused at the state of the world as soon as possible, and not a moment longer.
Yours in frustrated brevity,
A. Tobee, aged 113 of Totherside, nr Oblivion, OH
I still commit syntax and regularly put my iambs in my injudicious mouth.
Anyhoo, I am currently contemplating – though a practising Buddhist without portfolio – buying a bed. However, lying in it once I’ve bought and made it doesn’t appeal. At the moment, I’m merely sleeping on the idea. Besides, I’ve seen the assembly instructions and they are in Aramaic and it seems to me that they would lead any innocent (dis)assembler in to making a bed in the shape of a cross. Then the same instructions use a tone tantamount to commanding one to grin and bear it. Then there’s taking possession of this bed with the name Roseate. To take it up, should I go and collect it from distant Gateshead, or should I stay, meekly, and wait for a two-week delivery?
It is the hardest decision I’ll need to make since voting in the Extreme Useless referendum recently.
Still, I will continue to draw comfort – needing the fabric of the universe to be nice and soft – from the apparent fact(s) being in ouching distance of a small band of good hippy folk of which I’m still not a member – like yourselves. Also, as the great philosopher and musician once wrote or co-wrote, “This is a message out of a bottle” and “I’m sending out an SOH.”
Sir* Tainly of Saltburn by the sea.
*A troubled and controversial Night Hood bestowed upon me by the Order of the Cockney Rhyming Slang Committee (Vulgate sect) from Chippenham Away, in Kent.
Eds: What The Furnishings?
Why don’t you satirise the prospects of a third world war? Are you not, like me, concerned at all that the world might be plunged into a post-nuclear darkness by two leaders whose egos can be seen from space: what are aliens going to think?!
I realise that in these precarious times, where words are perceived as weapons, it is increasingly difficult to express any criticism of others, especially those in power, but you must see the golden opportunity for futile and less than funny satire. You may as well go down with all grammar blazing, rather than going genuflecting into that not so good night.
So, I hope you take on board my ‘criticism/critique/examen/notice/review’ and grasp the nettle of fruitless and humourless satire, so you can finally produce – just before the ultimate darkness – a magazine worthy of the weapon reference (see machine gun).
You may be interested in my online Self-Assertive Classes for believers in the missive being mightier than the missile? The course is free* at the point of entry. If you are, just type in www.Writingfromthehip.gun and Roberta’s your aunt!
*The final examination and certificate command a considerable fee, to be negotiated on a need to show what you know basis.