Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Nige on the Third Day

Well here I am again, feeling like some poor sap sent to keep the disciples entertained while they await the resurrection. Come to think - this is the third day, but don't get your hopes up. However, I can reveal that our Deus Absconditus has uttered. He uttered as one speaking from a cloud and I cannot divulge all that he uttered. But he heartily recommended G.K. Chesterton's Autobiography, which I have not read. Anyone out there know it?
Nige

8 comments:

  1. There was a short period in my yoof when I went through a Father Brown phase if you know what I mean. The only thing I remember about the man is someone telling me that when the Times wanted eminent persons to respond to the question what is wrong with the world GKC sent a letter that merely said, Dear Sir, and was followed by GKC's signature.

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  2. If you are hearing Bryan or anyone else speaking from clouds, well thats fair enough. Even burning bushes emitting book 'recommends' are OK. Its when they tell you to strike rocks to receive water, that you will be in trouble.

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  3. Nige: You are doing a marvelous job! That said, I don't recommend quitting your day job just yet.

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  4. Well thanks Ronin - and no danger of me taking up this lark full time. Still haven't managed to create a link - all efforts seem to result in my computer crashing. Hey ho...
    N

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  5. I read Chesterton's autobiography last summer while on vacation. It's quite a delight.

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  6. Ah good - Bryan will be glad to hear that you've read it, Frank. He too is finding it a delight. My copy is on order from Abebooks...

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  7. As it's nearly Thursday, may I divert your attention from the autobiography to The Man Who Was Thursday instead. Blew my mind 20 years ago and it's still reeling.

    And get well soon Byran (I like that; forget who misprinted you last month, but Byranic sounds much better than Appleyardian).

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  8. While we're on Chestertonian topics, victory of common sense for lbs & oz over compulsory metrication, The Rolling English Road ...


    I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,
    And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;
    But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed
    To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made,
    Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands,
    The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands.

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