Futile Jujus
I do this without much faith but still, it’s has to be done. The poor chap’s going to need as much help, from any quarter, even the airy-fairy, ethereal, I-wish-pigs-would-fly, sympathetic magic kind as he can possibly get. Here’s to you and your socks & sandals, old comrade. I don’t think you’ll last (think Greece…) but still you did irritate the fuck out of “them” , didn’t you? Good luck mate!
Update 19/09/15 I’d really like to tell you what this was all about but the Shoggies have sworn me to secrecy so I can’t, although I was lucky enough to be allowed to take pictures. Oh, well…
Update 22/09/15. Aftermath. Now, the point here is not that I’d like to tell but I’m not allowed, so much as that we’d all very much like to know what’s going on. The Bears came, transacted their (allegedly) dodgy business and decamped. All went smoothly, according to some arcane plan and without a hitch. However, the moment they left this strange creature and her totemic companion, or bodyguard, or bosom pal that it may be, materialized out of nowhere and they have now taken residency in the clearing. Nobody knows where she comes from or why she is here or what the fuck she’s up to, if anything (she just sits there, blowing stardust bubbles and disconcerting the night sky); or why does she travel in tandem with a non-descript quadruped with a monkey’s tail. Not the Moon, nor the young Keeper of the Woods, not even the saintly spiders who dwell in the old dryads, nobody has the foggiest, either, of who, never mind what she is. Is she a spontaneous manifestation? A by-product of the ursine transactions or a mere electromagnetic fluke? Could she be radioactive (she does glow, after all) or is she merely enlightened? Is she a deva? Is she an asura? What does the funky beasty eat for breakfast? Have I been reading too much Iain M Banks? Am I losing the plot? Answers on the customary postcard, please.