THE CORRIDORS OF CONTEMPLATION AND CONVERSATION
I must come clean. I did do me bits of soul-searching and clarification. It will be clear to you all that I, The Zola, have returned as a better person.
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Both wine and bread at confirmation were fake and this small site might just attract others that experienced the same. Critical voices? Those that participate? Who knows. For those that find sympathy with a walk on the wild sides of life, mountains, rivers or forests but do not pretend to escape. Other bits and pieces the news and also odds and sods that cry out "leave it off mate". Justly a lark and maybe the lark. But the lark will often land on the cactus.
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14 comments:
Now we know who writes the speeches for Gordon Brown.
Zola you will not fool me again.
That was NOT me !
Zola in the Groves of Academe!
Did you lecture on a postmodernist theme?
Or perhaps indulge a post-Gordon dream?
I think it must have a nice stroll in the quad with Chaplain Katz!
I am reliably informed that Mr Zola was actually coaching Ms Blears on how to apologise with grace.
Sadly, it hasn't worked and she is now to be got to a nunnery.
Hazel Blears is a disgrace. I doubt whether any convent would admit her - except possibly the Leaping Nuns of St. Beryl immortalised by Peter Cook and Dudley Moore.
It is more likely that the monastic establishment depicted is a (The) Priory, and Zola was perhaps coaching Susan Boyle on coping with the surrealist postmodern world of instant celebrity in preparation for her White House warblings on the Fourth of July.
We await the outcome sith interest.
Sometimes, I think that Anti is not one of us - he seems to be in the loop with very good connections!
You want the best loops and the best connections? Zola-Ink-Spots has them. (Especially the loopiness).
That's why I like it here. As for being "one of us", remarks like that make me suspect that Merkin is Margaret Thatcher in drag.
I claim my £5.
Well, at least I never said 'one of them'!
In Glasgow they are already having parties for Thatcher - and that just for a broken arm.
I don't think that Lady T belongs to the Hitler, Stalin and Pol Pot class that any decent person would wish dead. Or even to the intermediate Bush/Cheney class that some of us wouldn't grieve for.
A little charitableness wouldn't come amiss, Merkin. Like me, Lady Thatcher is old and frail. And unlike me, she has dementia. Pathetic, really, when you recall how strong minded she was (for good or ill - some of both, IMHO).
I'll not have a bad word said about Master Spots. Nor his father, or his grandfather for that matter, (although they had a few more manners when knocking me up after a night of too much port and loose Cowley women). And, by the way, Thatcher went to a far inferior establishment up in the North. Of Oxford. Now speed you all to your rooms.
Christ Church Porter, you remind me of a vulgar limerick about your colleague at St John's College, Cambridge, offering his daughter to some randy undergraduates as a substitute for the local swans (reserved for the dons), but I wouldn't dream of sullying the new-found purity of this esteemed site by repeating it.
By 'colleague' I of course meant 'opposite number'.
In my darker moods I would have banned all mention of the Milk Snatcher and the Blaterites. However after my rehab within the corridors of contemplation and conversation I will allow the nasy name Maggie Thatcher to be mentioned on this site.
You see I have returned as a far nicer fellow and better person.
So no more trying to fuck with Thatcher on this site.
She is armless now anyway.
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