Cast Out

After the Abbess Hilda's diagnosis of my olfactory complaint, I feel so much better. Not that the smell has suddenly dissipated - it hasn't. But it comes as a comfort to be able to identify what it is that bugs you. I told my other four-footed chums what the Abbess told me, and they were equally pleased and relieved to know what the source of the evil smell was.

But I've noticed something - the greatest concentration of the aforesaid infernal stench comes from the Witangemot and the Soothsayers - especially from the Redistributionist Faction and their staunch supporters, Beeby See and Guardy-Ann. It occurred to me that I'd very much like to see an exorcism performed over them all, to drive out the legion of demons responsible for the stink - but that would pose two problems. For a start, it would require someone of considerable spiritual stature to be big enough for the job. Even people with the piety of Caedmon, the Abbess Hilda and the monks at the Abbey have inherent faults that would make the task very difficult, not to mention dangerous. And if such an exorcism were to be performed successfully, where would the newly-displaced evil spirits go? When in the Gospel account the Master cast the spirits from the Gadarene demoniac, the demons entered a herd of pigs and promptly sent them to a watery death. I'd hate to see the same phenomenon happen to a herd of cattle, swine or sheep here; they're such lovely creatures, and they don't deserve such vile occupants. I think the demonic host should simply stay where they are. When this rumpus about Prince Ruprecht Evil-Merodach's Soothsaying interests and associated Eavesdropping Scandal passes, the foul odours will subside, and life will become tolerable again for we quadrupeds.

Yesterday was the Great Day when Prince Ruprecht Evil-Merodach appeared in full regalia with his family before the Witangemot to explain themselves and grovel to a host of slavering politicos. It was as theatrical as Feaxede and I expected it to be, but came as something of a disappointment; we were both dismayed to observe that Rupie was very measured and calm, and didn't publicly serve the dirt on some of his assembled accusers and detractors. One young noble appeared from nowhere and served the Prince with a pie at high speed, and for his trouble was apprehended by the Costumed Thugs in a leisurely fashion, after receiving a mighty right hook from the Princess Wilma. His jaw was broken in seventeen places. Rumour has it that the aspiring waiter was a member of the Redistributionist Faction, but Jedweird The Milliner has disassociated himself from him and has cast him into outer darkness. It seems that the Redistributionist cause isn't ready to adopt such random acts of service yet. Feaxede suggested that this pie delivery was a sign that the Redistributionists have lost the argument, but I'm not convinced that they had one in the first place..

From the way things are going, I think the smell is going to hang round for a while yet..