Tom Boon (tomboon) wrote,
Tom Boon
tomboon

Anthony Burgess - father of Spam?

About 25 years ago, I was given a book written by Anthony Burgess. I couldn't get through it. But something daunted I'm trying again, this time with a book given away with The Independent two months back to kick off its Banned Books promotion. It's A Clockwork Orange, and I'm finding it pretty dull so far.

The reason for this entry's exciting subject is that early on in the book, page 2 in fact, the narrator comments on somebody in the Milkbar who is drunk/drugged, and he quotes this person's speech: 'Aristotle wishy washy works outing cyclamen get forficulate smartish'. 

Now surely that is too close to the random-word Spam we are all sent on a daily basis to be a coincidence. Is it beyond all bounds of possibility that, tiring of the life of a novelist and seeing money-making opportunities elsewhere, Anthony Burgess faked his own death and set up a secret Spam-generating empire?

That is not the end of my adventures in Language and Literature, oh no. I thought this sounded rather jolly:

Mansfield Lark

And I was naturally tempted to add this one to my bookshelves:

Ignore this one at your peril

I have written before of the trials and tribulations affecting celebrities. You may recall my previous example, which showed how different celebrities are from us mere mortals: whereas you and I when driving encounter insects on the windscreen/shield and the occasional stone chipping the paint or denting the bodywork, Nicole Kidman has to cope with being assailed by the Undead. I guess the explanation is that when you're a big name, everything has to be on a bigger scale to match (if she ever calls you up to say can you pop round and take a spider out of her bathtub, my advice is to decline politely and run away fast). But what happens when you have been the star of a long-running television comedy about a radio psychiatrist, and your series finally comes to an end? There's the nagging worry that people might start to forget you. Just in time, somebody sets up a special language learning course to ensure you live on in people's minds!

Frasier Book

I can add nothing more, so allow me to sign off by saying:

And I will gather figs, When he my two weeks, shalt not spare. 
'Tis an etiquette jump kneel I despise, said he.

Light, break me (saying, I have cast lots;
But throughout my father cannot. -- whirl
With antlers myself jenkinsburg
magician irrelevant

Be saints, naked and love.

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