The Tour de France is about to begin. The teams are in Liège. Here comes Team Philosophe. But what is this? Where is The VeloDrone? Perhaps Phil Liggett knows.
Phil Liggett: Team Philosophe has a new look this year, Paul.
Paul Sherwen: They do indeed. It's quite ironic really.
Phil Liggett: Why so?
Paul Sherwen: There are no philosophers left in it.
Phil Liggettt: Goodness me! You're quite right Paul. How has this happened?
Paul Sherwen: The VeloDrone stayed behind to be with his friend Le Bon David, who had to go into hospital for some tests.
Phil Liggett: Dear me. Well, we wish him all the best. Now let's have a look at the riders of Team Philosophe. We have Sweezus, of course, a very promising young rider.
Paul Sherwen: Indeed he is, Phil. The last two tours have really toughened him up. Remember his first tour when he stopped and went for a swim?
Phil Liggett: Haha! A lot has changed since then. Sweezus is really hungry for a victory. I wouldn't be surprised to see him being the first to wear the King of the Mountain jersey this year.
Paul Sherwen: And then there's Gaius, or Pliny the Elder as his team mates call him. A veteran rider. He will be the backbone of the team.
Phil Liggett: He certainly will. But who's this young dark horse, Arthur Rimbaud?
Paul Sherwen: I was hoping you might be able to throw some light on that, Phil.
Phil Liggett: To look at him, you wouldn't think him much of a rider.
Paul Sherwen: He's only sixteen, I believe. And I hear he thinks of himself as a bit of a poet.
Phil Liggett: That's exactly what he looks like, Paul. A poet, with a bandaged knee.
Paul Sherwen: Not a rider?
Phil Liggett: No.
Paul Sherwen: And who's replacing The VeloDrone? Do we know?
Phil Liggett: They may be riding one man short. We'll have to wait and see.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Tour de France Practice
The next day Gaius had Tour de France practice.
He met The Velodrone and the rest of Team Philosophe in Norwood.
There was Sweezus, but where was Le Bon David? And who was the other young man?
Hello Gaius, said Sweezus. Did you have a good holiday?
Yes, thank you, said Gaius, looking around. Where's David?
Gaius! said The Velodrone. Didn't I tell you? David's pulled out. Says he's getting too old. Nonsense of course, he's merely overweight. But now I want you to meet our newest team member, Arthur. Arthur Rimbaud.
Gaius looked at Arthur Rimbaud. He was young, wild-haired and handsome, with a dirty bandage wrapped round his left knee.
Arthur Rimbaud, said Gaius. Pleased to meet you. Your name rings a bell.
You'll have read my poems, said Arthur Rimbaud.
No, I haven't said Gaius.
Everyone has, said Arthur Rimbaud.
I haven't, said Gaius. Perhaps Margaret has. I know someone has. Maybe it was that pinhead Ouvert.
Arthur Rimbaud looked slightly annoyed.
Well, said Gaius, looking around, what's the game plan this year?
First, said The VeloDrone, Arthur must rest his knee. Second, we must practice a bit. Third, we must get to Liège by next Saturday.
What's wrong with his knee? asked Gaius.
Recurring pain, said Arthur Rimbaud. I may lose it one day.
The knee? asked Sweezus.
Possibly, said Arthur Rimbaud. But until then I am sustained by the blue and yellow phosphorescent waves of anguish and unimaginable pain, and...
Steady on, young Arthur, said the Velodrone. Why don't you sit down.
Arthur Rimbaud sat down.
You three carry on, he said. Don't mind me.
And so began the first practice of Team Philosophe for the Tour de France.
He met The Velodrone and the rest of Team Philosophe in Norwood.
There was Sweezus, but where was Le Bon David? And who was the other young man?
Hello Gaius, said Sweezus. Did you have a good holiday?
Yes, thank you, said Gaius, looking around. Where's David?
Gaius! said The Velodrone. Didn't I tell you? David's pulled out. Says he's getting too old. Nonsense of course, he's merely overweight. But now I want you to meet our newest team member, Arthur. Arthur Rimbaud.
Gaius looked at Arthur Rimbaud. He was young, wild-haired and handsome, with a dirty bandage wrapped round his left knee.
Arthur Rimbaud, said Gaius. Pleased to meet you. Your name rings a bell.
You'll have read my poems, said Arthur Rimbaud.
No, I haven't said Gaius.
Everyone has, said Arthur Rimbaud.
I haven't, said Gaius. Perhaps Margaret has. I know someone has. Maybe it was that pinhead Ouvert.
Arthur Rimbaud looked slightly annoyed.
Well, said Gaius, looking around, what's the game plan this year?
First, said The VeloDrone, Arthur must rest his knee. Second, we must practice a bit. Third, we must get to Liège by next Saturday.
What's wrong with his knee? asked Gaius.
Recurring pain, said Arthur Rimbaud. I may lose it one day.
The knee? asked Sweezus.
Possibly, said Arthur Rimbaud. But until then I am sustained by the blue and yellow phosphorescent waves of anguish and unimaginable pain, and...
Steady on, young Arthur, said the Velodrone. Why don't you sit down.
Arthur Rimbaud sat down.
You three carry on, he said. Don't mind me.
And so began the first practice of Team Philosophe for the Tour de France.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Be Careful What You Wish For
Gaius returned home with his dirty washing. What to do with it?
He dropped the canvas bag on the floor in the laundry. He would deal with it later. Better still, perhaps someone would wash it.
Baby Pierre and Ouvert scrambled out of the bag and crossed the floor to the kitchen sink. Then they climbed up to the window sill.
I'm back! announced Baby Pierre.
Baby Pierre! screamed Lavender. You're back! Did you miss me?
No, said Baby Pierre. Hello, Aunty Kobo.
Hello Baby Pierre, said Kobo. How did you enjoy Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man?
Boring, said Baby Pierre. I didn't know Joyce was religious.
I see you stopped in the middle, said Kobo. So what did you read instead?
La Princesse de Babylone, said Baby Pierre. But it got wet.
Don't tell me you didn't finish that either? said Kobo.
It wasn't his fault, piped up Ouvert.
Who's that? asked Kobo.
Yes, who's that? asked Lavender, peering at Ouvert. He's got TWO mouths. Weird!
Ouvert, said Ouvert. I'm Baby Pierre's new friend. I'm from La Rochelle.
And what are you reading? asked Kobo.
Illuminations, said Ouvert. But I've lost it.
Really! You boys! said Kobo. How far had you got?
Page fifteen, said Ouvert. And there weren't enough stones.
If stones were the only pleasant subject, said Kobo, we wouldn't have much to read.
I wanted to read it, said Baby Pierre.
And I wanted to finish it, said Ouvert.
Good for you, said Kobo.
But now I can't, said Baby Pierre, looking sad.
Nor can I, said Ouvert, looking equally sad.
They don't care at all! said Lavender. They're just pretending Aunty Kobo.
So you'd like more of Rimbaud? said Kobo. Be careful what you wish for, you two.
He dropped the canvas bag on the floor in the laundry. He would deal with it later. Better still, perhaps someone would wash it.
Baby Pierre and Ouvert scrambled out of the bag and crossed the floor to the kitchen sink. Then they climbed up to the window sill.
I'm back! announced Baby Pierre.
Baby Pierre! screamed Lavender. You're back! Did you miss me?
No, said Baby Pierre. Hello, Aunty Kobo.
Hello Baby Pierre, said Kobo. How did you enjoy Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man?
Boring, said Baby Pierre. I didn't know Joyce was religious.
I see you stopped in the middle, said Kobo. So what did you read instead?
La Princesse de Babylone, said Baby Pierre. But it got wet.
Don't tell me you didn't finish that either? said Kobo.
It wasn't his fault, piped up Ouvert.
Who's that? asked Kobo.
Yes, who's that? asked Lavender, peering at Ouvert. He's got TWO mouths. Weird!
Ouvert, said Ouvert. I'm Baby Pierre's new friend. I'm from La Rochelle.
And what are you reading? asked Kobo.
Illuminations, said Ouvert. But I've lost it.
Really! You boys! said Kobo. How far had you got?
Page fifteen, said Ouvert. And there weren't enough stones.
If stones were the only pleasant subject, said Kobo, we wouldn't have much to read.
I wanted to read it, said Baby Pierre.
And I wanted to finish it, said Ouvert.
Good for you, said Kobo.
But now I can't, said Baby Pierre, looking sad.
Nor can I, said Ouvert, looking equally sad.
They don't care at all! said Lavender. They're just pretending Aunty Kobo.
So you'd like more of Rimbaud? said Kobo. Be careful what you wish for, you two.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Wonderful But Not All That Good
Everyone is now back in Adelaide
Margaret's wonderful holiday is over. She meets her friend Esme for coffee.
It was wonderful, Esme, says Margaret.
Was it? says Esme.
(Esme is jealous).
Yes, says Margaret. And Gaius was wonderful too.
Was he? says Esme doubtfully.
Yes, says Margaret. He bought Armagnac and Champagne. We did everything together.
Did you sleep together? asks Esme.
Not exactly, says Margaret.
Did you fight? asks Esme.
No, says Margaret. But we disagreed over a limestone.
A geological argument? asks Esme.
No, it was more personal, says Margaret. I called him Ouvert.
The limestone? says Esme.
Yes, says Margaret. He was gorgeous. But I 've lost him.
Never mind, says Esme. Limestones are two a penny.
Not this one, sighs Margaret.
She looks unhappy.
So the holiday wasn't that good, says Esme.
Margaret's wonderful holiday is over. She meets her friend Esme for coffee.
It was wonderful, Esme, says Margaret.
Was it? says Esme.
(Esme is jealous).
Yes, says Margaret. And Gaius was wonderful too.
Was he? says Esme doubtfully.
Yes, says Margaret. He bought Armagnac and Champagne. We did everything together.
Did you sleep together? asks Esme.
Not exactly, says Margaret.
Did you fight? asks Esme.
No, says Margaret. But we disagreed over a limestone.
A geological argument? asks Esme.
No, it was more personal, says Margaret. I called him Ouvert.
The limestone? says Esme.
Yes, says Margaret. He was gorgeous. But I 've lost him.
Never mind, says Esme. Limestones are two a penny.
Not this one, sighs Margaret.
She looks unhappy.
So the holiday wasn't that good, says Esme.
Philosophy in a Canvas Bag
This is difficult. Ouvert really wants to show Baby Pierre his Illuminations. But he doesn't want to return to Margaret's new bag.
Why don't you just pop back and get it? says Baby Pierre. I'll wait here.
Err.... no, says Ouvert. I can't go back to that bag.
Why not? asks Baby Pierre.
Because it's going to Australia. And this bag's returning to France.
What? says Baby Pierre. That's the first I've heard of it.
Gaius forgot he was in the Tour de France, says Ouvert. So he's turning back.
Did he actually say he was turning back? asks Baby Pierre.
No, says Ouvert. Not exactly.
Well then, says Baby Pierre. He will go back to Australia first. I guarantee it.
Why? asks Ouvert.
To get his bicycle, says Baby Pierre. You need to think things through, Ouvert.
I'm not used to thinking things through, says Ouvert. Normally I just accept whatever comes.
No you don't, says Baby Pierre. If you did you would've stayed in Margaret's bag.
You ARE a philosopher, says Ouvert, admiringly. Let's talk some more.
Alright, says Baby Pierre. I am in fact an atheist and a free thinker.
Oh wow! says Ouvert, one mouth open. How does that work?
What do you mean, how does that work? says Baby Pierre.
Well, how can you be a free thinker, if you've made up your mind to be an atheist? asks Ouvert.
Ouvert, says Baby Pierre, you are cleverer than you look. I hadn't quite thought that one through.
So we're equal, says Ouvert, hopefully.
I wouldn't go that far, says Baby Pierre. But we can be friends.
Whee! says Ouvert.
Why don't you just pop back and get it? says Baby Pierre. I'll wait here.
Err.... no, says Ouvert. I can't go back to that bag.
Why not? asks Baby Pierre.
Because it's going to Australia. And this bag's returning to France.
What? says Baby Pierre. That's the first I've heard of it.
Gaius forgot he was in the Tour de France, says Ouvert. So he's turning back.
Did he actually say he was turning back? asks Baby Pierre.
No, says Ouvert. Not exactly.
Well then, says Baby Pierre. He will go back to Australia first. I guarantee it.
Why? asks Ouvert.
To get his bicycle, says Baby Pierre. You need to think things through, Ouvert.
I'm not used to thinking things through, says Ouvert. Normally I just accept whatever comes.
No you don't, says Baby Pierre. If you did you would've stayed in Margaret's bag.
You ARE a philosopher, says Ouvert, admiringly. Let's talk some more.
Alright, says Baby Pierre. I am in fact an atheist and a free thinker.
Oh wow! says Ouvert, one mouth open. How does that work?
What do you mean, how does that work? says Baby Pierre.
Well, how can you be a free thinker, if you've made up your mind to be an atheist? asks Ouvert.
Ouvert, says Baby Pierre, you are cleverer than you look. I hadn't quite thought that one through.
So we're equal, says Ouvert, hopefully.
I wouldn't go that far, says Baby Pierre. But we can be friends.
Whee! says Ouvert.
Friday, June 22, 2012
It's Poems
Where is Ouvert?
He has climbed into the Room of Ones Own, which was lying on the floor next to Gaius's foot.
He wriggles his way to the bottom.
There he sees Baby Pierre, wrapped up in wet paper.
What are you doing here? demands Ouvert.
Where? asks Baby Pierre. I don't know where I am.
Never mind where, says Ouvert. This used to be my bag. And you're in it. And that used to be my book. And you're wrapped in a page of it.
Hah! says Baby Pierre, outraged. It's my bag and my book!
Then you must be Baby Pierre! says Ouvert. Wow! Hello!
Yes I am, says Baby Pierre. And I know who you are. Hello, Ouvert.
Yes, yes, hello, says Ouvert, somewhat tongue-tied.
He gets a hold of himself.
Do you like reading? says Ouvert. I do. Would you like to borrow my book? I see yours is wet.
Thank you, says Baby Pierre. What is your book?
Illuminations, says Ouvert.
By Arthur Rimbaud? says Baby Pierre.
That's the one, says Ouvert. Frankly I find it a bit disappointing. But you might like it. It's poems.
Poems! says Baby Pierre. I don't generally like poems.
So, no, then, says Ouvert.
I might take a look, says Baby Pierre. Although I prefer philosophy. Where is your book?
Damn! says Ouvert. I left it behind!
He has climbed into the Room of Ones Own, which was lying on the floor next to Gaius's foot.
He wriggles his way to the bottom.
There he sees Baby Pierre, wrapped up in wet paper.
What are you doing here? demands Ouvert.
Where? asks Baby Pierre. I don't know where I am.
Never mind where, says Ouvert. This used to be my bag. And you're in it. And that used to be my book. And you're wrapped in a page of it.
Hah! says Baby Pierre, outraged. It's my bag and my book!
Then you must be Baby Pierre! says Ouvert. Wow! Hello!
Yes I am, says Baby Pierre. And I know who you are. Hello, Ouvert.
Yes, yes, hello, says Ouvert, somewhat tongue-tied.
He gets a hold of himself.
Do you like reading? says Ouvert. I do. Would you like to borrow my book? I see yours is wet.
Thank you, says Baby Pierre. What is your book?
Illuminations, says Ouvert.
By Arthur Rimbaud? says Baby Pierre.
That's the one, says Ouvert. Frankly I find it a bit disappointing. But you might like it. It's poems.
Poems! says Baby Pierre. I don't generally like poems.
So, no, then, says Ouvert.
I might take a look, says Baby Pierre. Although I prefer philosophy. Where is your book?
Damn! says Ouvert. I left it behind!
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Changes At Changi
In Singapore everyone gets off the plane.
Baby Pierre wakes up. He is swinging through the air in the Room of One's Own, or so it seems.
Gaius is embarrassed to be carrying the Room of One's Own through Changi airport.
This is because Margaret has made him aware that he ought to be embarrassed.
Carrying your dirty underwear through this beautiful airport, she tuts. You ought to be ashamed.
Gaius pretends he is not embarrassed, by changing the subject.
I'm going to find an internet connection, he says.
Ouvert is still inside Margaret's new bag, reading Illuminations.
He is disappointed. There has not been a single mention of stones for fifteen pages.
It is all about anything but stones.
Flowers, forests, idols, stars, spiders, sluice gates, the sea.
Suddenly he feels homesick for the sea.
He pops his head out of the bag and shouts at Margaret.
Hey! I want to go home. I want to go back to Pointe de Minimes in La Rochelle.
Margaret doesn't hear him, due to a loud cry from Gaius, who has just googled something.
The Tour De France! groans Gaius. It's less than two weeks away.
You won't be in it this year, says Margaret. Weren't you disqualified?
Nearly disqualified, says Gaius. I shall be riding with my usual team, don't you worry. But there's not much time for me to practice.
You should have stayed in France, says Margaret.
Let's go back, shouts Ouvert. I want to go back now!
No, says Margaret. You're coming home with me.
But Ouvert has jumped out of her bag.
Margaret searches the entire length and breadth of Changi Airport, but he is nowhere to be seen.
Baby Pierre wakes up. He is swinging through the air in the Room of One's Own, or so it seems.
Gaius is embarrassed to be carrying the Room of One's Own through Changi airport.
This is because Margaret has made him aware that he ought to be embarrassed.
Carrying your dirty underwear through this beautiful airport, she tuts. You ought to be ashamed.
Gaius pretends he is not embarrassed, by changing the subject.
I'm going to find an internet connection, he says.
Ouvert is still inside Margaret's new bag, reading Illuminations.
He is disappointed. There has not been a single mention of stones for fifteen pages.
It is all about anything but stones.
Flowers, forests, idols, stars, spiders, sluice gates, the sea.
Suddenly he feels homesick for the sea.
He pops his head out of the bag and shouts at Margaret.
Hey! I want to go home. I want to go back to Pointe de Minimes in La Rochelle.
Margaret doesn't hear him, due to a loud cry from Gaius, who has just googled something.
The Tour De France! groans Gaius. It's less than two weeks away.
You won't be in it this year, says Margaret. Weren't you disqualified?
Nearly disqualified, says Gaius. I shall be riding with my usual team, don't you worry. But there's not much time for me to practice.
You should have stayed in France, says Margaret.
Let's go back, shouts Ouvert. I want to go back now!
No, says Margaret. You're coming home with me.
But Ouvert has jumped out of her bag.
Margaret searches the entire length and breadth of Changi Airport, but he is nowhere to be seen.
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