maelwys

BRITAIN has kings, but they are tyrants; she has judges, but unrighteous ones; generally engaged in plunder and rapine, but always preying on the innocent; whenever they exert themselves to avenge or protect, it is sure to be in favour of robbers and criminals; they have an abundance of wives, yet are they addicted to fornication and adultery; they are ever ready to take oaths, and as often perjure themselves; they make a vow and almost immediately act falsely; they make war, but their wars are against their countrymen, and are unjust ones; they rigorously prosecute thieves throughout their country, but those who sit at table with them are robbers, and they not only cherish but reward them; they give alms plentifully, but in contrast to this is a whole pile of crimes which they have committed; they sit on the seat of justice, but rarely seek for the rule of right judgment; they despise the innocent and the humble, but seize every occasion of exalting to the utmost the bloody-minded; the proud, murderers, the combined and adulterers, enemies of God, who ought to be utterly destroyed and their names forgotten.

Ah, but perhaps it is not moot to speak of such, but maybe to talk of other things; of shoes and ships and sealing wax, Of cabbages and kings.

Greetings from planet Keith. The last month or two has not been a good month or two. Oh no. Work, work , work. Manky. But happily broken up by odd days in the Marlborough Head and Ben Crouches. And then royally fucked up by a major throat infection that lingered and spread. This did in fact give rise to a high class of drugged up hallucination. Watching Alice in Wonderland followed by a good gaming sesssion on Planescape:Torment does give rise to absolutely great visions. It was the first time I've ever witnessed the Mad Hatter get nutted out by a rogue Modron. I actually miss those fever dreams, or at least wish I'd video taped it for lucid entertainment. But where was I? Oh yes! The Prologue! And an added benefit to a really manky throat is giving up smoking by accident. Did I want to? No I fucking didn't! Bastard! But if I have one fucking ciggie now it rips up my goddam gullet. What a bunch of arse. It didn't help that for a week I had to live on cereal and soup and other such sloppy shite. Twas only the last day or so that I could once again enjoy a nice cracker with cheese on. But now at least I can drink like a fish again and pig out on cheesey crackers, but alas no cancer sticks, so I'm near me again. Or so Gerald, my invisible giant space hampster, tells me.