Without Eating

But soon enough, Iris Murdoch's article arrived, and Belle et Bonne was obliged to show it to the others.

She handed each of them a copy, and they began reading silently.

After a few minutes, The VeloDrone broke the silence.

This was written by the Judi Dench one, wasn't it? he said.

Yes, said Belle et Bonne gloomily. But it's not that bad is it?

No, it's quite good, in parts, said The VeloDrone. What do you think, David?

I don't like this bit, said Le Bon David, and he read aloud: Philosophy! Empty thinking by ignorant conceited men who think they can digest without eating! What is she getting at?

She means male philosophers spend too much of their time going over the same old questions, and forget to enjoy life, said Madam Denis.

Oh does she? said Le Bon David huffily, and he continued reading:

As a young, Kate Winslet sort of woman, I used to write a great deal about good and evil, virtue and morality, and how we should strive to make ourselves better by paying more attention to one another. Oh, I wrote such wonderful things. I wrote novels, too, and my characters embodied my ideas. At this time also, I used to get about on a bicycle. I went on a bicycling holiday in France once, I recall, with a young man, a very young man, so young in fact that for the sake of respectability I was obliged to pretend to be his mother.....

Those were good times. Unfortunately later he found out that I used to work for the SS as a prison guard, and also that I was unable to read.......

Now that I am an older Judi Dench sort of woman, I spend my time trying to weasel my way into the lives of attractive but flawed young women like ..... well, like Kate Winslet, and bind them to me by means of blackmail. But when I am not doing this, I like to get about on a bicycle. Nothing is more conducive to the clarification of rational thought than to ride through the countryside on a beautiful summer's afternoon in a cotton print full-skirted dress, with a basket on the front. Of the bicycle, I mean. The basket being in case I feel inspired to go shopping.

Well, said the VeloDrone. It has a certain charm, but I can't help thinking she's having some sort of identity crisis.

Nonsense! said Madam Denis. It's brilliant! Well done, Iris! And well done, Belle et Bonne!

S.S. Orca

Yesterday Pliny and Nostradamus went to a beach they rarely visit due to the difficulty of finding a road to it. A windy beach it was, with a great deal of sky. In the sky flew a whale, trailing an inflatable orange bucket, with black writing on it. Above the whale, a black green and white box jellyfish with long purple and white stingers. Below these creatures there were 2 people holding string.

Pliny and Nostradamus stumbled through the soft sand with their eyes fixed upon on the giant kites, particularly the whale. Nostradamus thought it might be constructed as a tube. He therefore was looking for a hole at each end which would confirm this hypothesis. Pliny was trying to read the words on the orange bucket. The letters she could see were S S, but there were several more that kept revolving out of sight. Due to the nature of the letter S she could not be sure whether these were the first or the last 2 letters of the word.

Pliny and Nostradamus were walking on the hard sand now and still looking up at the whale and the jellyfish. It was some time before they passed the stringholders and were finally released from the need to stare at fixed objects in the sky while walking.

Outrageous really. Perhaps it should not even be allowed.