Caedmon was an early English Christian poet who lived in Whitby in the 7th century. The writer of this blog has no pretensions to such exalted gifts, and for this reason (as well as the fact that the name has already been taken) has chosen his Cat. They say that a cat can look at a king; this cat certainly does that. He's also had a good Christian education from his master, and he's quite prepared to use it when necessary.
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Fun Guy For The Feast
My reliable source of information from the bowels of the Tree/Liberationist Administration is my good feline friend Lareow, who - a mere cat - was elevated to the dizzying heights of glory when he was taken from a kitty orphanage and appointed Supreme Mouser at the Chief Cock and Bluebottle Washer's residence.
His appointment to this onerous but prestigious task was initially precipitated by the presence of rats, but these rodents are exceedingly well-fed and affable creatures, and Lareow has had neither the heart nor the intestinal fortitude to engage them in mortal combat. Despite his failure to eliminate these pests, he has at least redeemed himself by proving his mousing prowess, and in so doing has carved a nice little niche for himself.
Since he moves in such elevated circles, I've found him to be a valuable source of intelligence and insight into the inner workings of the machinery of government. I met him for a chat and to trade the usual feline gossip with him yesterday, and he let slip something extremely revealing about Caedmeron and the Tree Faction he leads.
As I've already intimated beforehand, we're approaching the season of the Annual Unfortunates' Outing And Picnic, which is a massed gathering of all those window-licking adherents of the various political factions. These are intended to be events to unite the faction members in their resolve to win more public votes and to hammer out future political strategy. Or - at least - that's the impression they like to convey. In reality, they're little more than debauched beanfeasts which provide many with the rare opportunity to hobnob with the infamous representatives, get helplessly inebriated, and send their alimentary systems into a flat spin by overloading them with the finest food in the Northumbrian Kingdom.
Apparently, Lareow has come by a list of goods that has been drawn up for the caterers who are charged with equipping the forthcoming event. Among the usual list of the finest wines from the vineyards of Bordeaux, the choicest cuts of venison, hare, beef, fillets of Dover sole and tons of smoked salmon, one of the more unusual items is several bushels of fly agaric.
It seems that the leaven of the Redistributionists has well and truly taken effect..
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Speaking of guys, November's coming.ReplyDelete