Finland, my native land, seems to have gone properly mad. Not only has it become an annual autumn ritual for some sad wank to take a bent metal object that goes bang to school with them, but now there's also been an arson attack against the Turkish Embassy in Helsinki. The Embassy spokesmen say they reckon the Kurdish separatist organisation PKK is behind the attack. The (Finnish) police spokesman says the four Kurdish youths held suspect "all speak good Finnish".
Be all that as it may, I have my own theories (Exclusive! Read it only on Future of my Past!) - for apart from the Turkish Embassy, the building in question (pictured here from an angle not shown on other news sites)
housed, for no less than twenty-five years, the theatre group which I'm currently in (early) retirement from. A bit too much of a coincidence, don't you find? For actors are an emotionally volatile lot, and can bear a never-ending grudge for not being cast (or worse still, being cast as the back end of a donkey).
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
And another thing
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16 comments:
We tend to review the past and much wonder when previeiwing the future.(Where to go next?)
Let us cherish and live in our purview present.
happy to drop by and comment here too from Healthy Wealth for all bloggers
http://theonnozablog.blogspot.com
Sorry again, the Healthy Wealth blog should be
http://theinnozablog.blogspot.com
your blog should be vote for Blog of Note someday too.
But Anna, some people actually dream of being cast as the donkey's back end. Trying to guess what dark thing you may be hinting at whilst stuffing fingers in ears going "la la la".
Hi Anna
A cautionary tail indeed.
xxx
Pants
I do not see why I have to be the chap who brings this up, but...it may have been a drama critic behind the attack.
Sort of "street theater criticism".
Right. Hello, it's you. A Blog of Note? Well I never. What struck me as uncanny when I saw your comment was the fact you call yourself "its me" - for i have called myself that, once or twice. For a moment or two I wasn't sure if I'd got up in the night and sleep-commented on my own blog. My research later uncovered the fact that you were visiting from Singapore, and that I took as conclusive evidence of your not being me. So that's a relief. And yes, I did visit your place in return, and while it's kind of you to wish such good things upon all bloggers, I can't escape the feeling that you're maybe trying to sell me something. Do forgive me if I'm wrong (I think it must be the Blog of Note thing that I have a problem with), and if you're not selling and I'm not buying, then all things should be fine and dandy and you are as welcome as any other oddball to come back and comment here (and believe me, there have been (and are) some truly strange characters amongst the commenters. Strange, its me.)
Ha. Signs sees, I'm sorry but I'm immediately thrown into Monty-Python-nerd mode ("we used to dream about being cast as a donkey's back end" - "well they were donkey's back ends to us" cetra blah). And God Almighty, not hinting at any dark secret - I thought I'd laid it out all straight. Actors are volatile. It sucks not being cast. There's no such thing as a small role (or a donkey's back end).
Now I'll worry about the theare folk all thinking I'm being catty about some time when I've done the hind quarters of onagers. Damn.
Pants - a delight to see you. And "a cautionary tail" is a gem. As are you. Are you alright over there, hanging upside-down, precariously attached to the world by your toes? I hope so.
Delighted to see you - I need to say that again.
xxx
Oh God, Montag, surely you are an alter ego of, I don't know, Ellery Queen or Sherlock himself or someone? For that had not occurred to me at all - but of course, it all makes sense now.
Thank you for solving the crime so effortlessly. The Finnish security police will be contacting you with a job offer forthwith.
Anna, you have time-travelled again. This, in addition to your other talents! For if I ever feel moved to reply to its me (and not apostrophe neither, I ask you!) then I hope you don't mind if I copy your wonderful riposte here word for word.
"There's no such thing as a small role" - well look here and you might spot my Dad - I say might because blink and you might miss him (and he's not the head on a plate).
It definitely sucks, yes.
hello, what happened?
here
And it isn't Sid James, your Excellency.
Ooh, Mis-Sees (aka All About Me), now you've gone and flattened both my pet theories - for I was already visualising you as the daughter and heir to the great Sid (after you'd so cruelly murdered my fantasy of you as the daughter to the Head on the Plate).
Alright then - in that case, I'm reduced to the altogether more sober guesses of (in decreasing order of sobriety and increasing order of hilarity)
1) the pianist
2) the violinist
3) the bagpipist
4) one of the brave Scotsmen baring their fearsome weapon
(I am allowed four guesses, because I am.)
Do, please, keep calling me "my Excellency". It's positively growing on me.
Mwah-mwah
None of them, Sees! Seestah? Not saying you don't deserve the title, but the "your Excellency" was a clue, see. I'm very sorry your Excellency.
(and it most definitely wasn't Kenneth Williams).
This, by the way, is a lovely picture.
Lx
I see, Seestah - you come from a long lineage of head-on-a-platter servers, do you? How supremely funny - and uncanny, no, for wasn't there some comment thread, somewhere, where I was found to be A Great Religious Prophet and I realised you wanted my head on a platter? It all begins to make sense, now. Hurrah (although a little worried to think what house guests to the mighty House of Signs may find on their plates). (And I'm not about to apologise to you for leaving you here for a whole month. No. I've done your penalties before and they are fearsome. Just saying hei, instead. Hei.)
Lovely Lottie, hei to you too. Glad you liked the picture, even gladder to see you. I am safe in apologising to you, for you have never made me write impossible things as apology-penalties - so I'll tell you I'm truly sorry for the static nature of my replies, this month. November - in Finnish, marraskuu, "cadaver moon", the month when the dead walk amongst the (barely) living (unfortunate) inhabitants of this dark and, well, dark land - tends to have that effect on me. Hoping to be coming up for air and renewed blogging activity now that Dead Body Moon is coming to a close (and not a moment too soon).
Mwahs to you, Signs, and xxx's to you, Lottie. Lovely to see you both.
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