The following
is an officially sanctioned digression included in the text of Dirk
Destroyer’s Less Destructive Brother. Although digression sounds
like a term referring to poor performance, or lack of progress, I was
surprised (as I hear the word frequently,) to learn that it means
something different. I’m not sure what it means except that this
chapter is one.
If this, for
some reason, is your initial installment of Dirk Destroyer, first –
I’m sorry. Second, you may wish to know that the rest of the story
largely has nothing to do with the digressive material below.
Wow, the red
squiggly didn’t show when I made up the word, digressive. I must
have invented a real word!
Chapter Non - Twenty-Three
FICAL
Headley here.
This is so embarrassing. No, I’m not talking about the fact that I
wrote much of chapter 22 while sleeping; sleep-writing is not an
impairment, it’s an art-form, and I’m no longer ashamed –
especially since I started writing on computers, and don’t have to
change the sheets…
That’s not what I’m embarrassed about. Let’s start again.
This is so embarrassing.
The writing profession, or in my case, the writing impoverishment, is
not a matter of sitting idly at a table on the third floor garret of
a fine Victorian home, gazing out the window, and periodically
pecking at a laptop, type writer, ball point, fountain pen or quill.
For one thing, by the time people started building third floor
garrets to fine Victorian homes, very few writers used a quill
anymore except to tickle little children, spouses, or reluctant
acquisition editors.
But that’s not important here. What I’m interrupting this fine,
reasonably priced narrative to tell you about is a growing problem,
nay horror of the modern writer – the out-of-control imaginary
character.
Any fair-minded person, such as a judge, or lawyer that specializes
in defamation lawsuits, will realize that the Jonma Claim, who has
unilaterally changed his name to Jo4n McLame, is not the man of
similar intell – I mean similar sounding name who once ran for
President.
It was never my intent that the reader would believe such things. I
would swear to it, but as a lad, I was once forced to hold a bar of
soap in my mouth for swearing, and I found it less refreshing than I
hoped, so I am reluctant to swear to anything.
I would agree to one thing however, should the man with a similar
sounding name care to seek me out among the detritus of
Winston-Salem. I would give him a pinky handshake on the matter.
But this is just a recent example of a serious issue. Imaginary
characters are out of control. This is the reason, I, along with so
many other impoverished writers have come together to form, FICAL
(Fill In Clever Acronym Later) to fight this problem.
Your generous (but sadly not deductible) contribution will allow the
impoverished writers of FICAL to drink beer while we deliberate and
complain about this issue, and the deplorable state of everything
that exists.
Painful experience has shown that money sent to Headley Hauser c/o
the detritus of Winston-Salem too often finds its way to the dead
letter office where it’s later auctioned off or sent to a guy named
S. Claus. Instead, please send your checks (if you must,) money
orders (better,) cash (now we’re talking,) or gold coins (Jackpot!)
to: Will Wright 5765 Hickory Knoll Dr. Apt 7, Winston-Salem, NC
27106. Though Will is not a member of FICAL, he has a job, and so he
has an apartment and mailbox of his own. Though he’s not wealthy
by state worker standards, and he really needs to get a better couch
for his friends to crash on, he will probably forward the money to a
FICAL member, or at least use it for beer.
By-the-way, Will, you’re out of Pop Tarts.
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