Clank. Clank. Clank.
Be not afraid, mortal. You shall soon be
visited by three spirits. One will tell you your past...one your
future...and one...something else. I can't remember. I think it'll
calculate your BMI or something. Ooh, these chains aren't half heavy.
Anyway, tara me duck.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Woooo!
Behold, for I am the Ghost of Christmas Past! Come with me, as we
journey back to a cold, wintry night of the 18th of December, in the
Year of Our Lord, Twenty Hundred and Twelve. Heading down Broad Street
in the City of Nottingham, we peer in the window of a small café
restaurant called Edin's, a rather dark yet welcoming place where it's
surprisingly difficult to order a hot chocolate. Spy in the back room, a
table full of people... They seem to be talking whilst eating - a most
disgraceful habit - and have copies of a book lying beside them. But
what the Dickens is it? Ah yes...something old and somewhat festive,
methinks. Something so instantly familiar, yet so enjoyable to read and
reread. Something with a vividness to its prose which makes its
familiar story seem fresh and exciting. Something which whilst reading
one finds oneself being unable to shake off the image of Kermit the Frog
playing Bob Cratchitt. A resounding success, it seems. What fun!
What joy! Plus the return of some old faces from a few months back, a
year ago, and several years ago! How appropriate!
Ah, but the image is fading...tis fading...tis fading...tis gone. Farewell.... Woooo...
....sssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssss....
...uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhHHHHHHHHhhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuuu....
...iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
ooh 'ello. Sorry about that, I was trying to be mysterious and spooky
and silent, but that's not gonna work in a text medium. Never mind.
I'm the Ghost of Christmases Yet To Come. Not that I'm here to talk
about Christmas, oh no sirree; that's far too far in the future.
Instead I'm gonna tell you what's gonna be going on in the next couple
of months, and we'll take it from there.
So, basically, in
January you all will be meeting on the 22nd to discuss another classic
piece of Victoriana...'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' by Sir Arthur
Conan Doyle! He believed in fairies, y'know. Idiot. Anyway, it's a
classic compendium of crime short stories which will hopefully be full
of fun and japes. Then, on the 19th of February, discussion shall
centre on (don't be scared now) science fiction classic 'The Sirens of
Titan' by Kurt Vonnegut. Deep breaths. It'll be fine, I promise. And
there'll be lots of celebrating, people being opinionated, and it's
likely someone will smash a glass.
What? You're thinking of not
bothering to go...?! The vision is changing...I see now a house full of
despairing souls...a fire, turned to ash...a pair of tiny crutches in
the corner, long unused... It's not too late to change your mind,
y'know! What? Oh, no, I don't understand the term 'emotional
blackmail'.
We're all fading now. If ghosts can fade. I mean,
we're already pretty faded, despite the Christmas pud. Anyhoo, we'll say
a fond farewell and wish you all a Happy New Year!
With love,
The Spirits of Christmas Past, Christmas Future, and How Much Weight You've Put On Over Christmas.
Tuesday January 22nd - 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' by Arthur Conan Doyle
Tuesday February 19th - 'The Sirens of Titan' by Kurt Vonnegut
7pm Edin's (in the back room. Best bring a flashlight.)
No comments:
Post a Comment