Last Friday, the evening tides carried in more debris than usual, including several dead bodies (unidentified and now buried). It appears that a small ship of unknown origin hit the rocks on our north coast. Various intrepid folk have been out to the wreck, bringing back all kinds of interesting goods. I remind all readers that scavenging rules are simple – finders keepers. Anything washed up on the beaches belongs to the person who manages to make off with it. Rumours of coffee and chocolate led to scenes of brawling over the weekend, but no lasting damage done. Mithra Stubbs at the Black Swann Bakery claims to have shipwreck coffee for sale, by the mug. Having sampled it myself, I can’t say that it tastes any different from the stuff she usually sells. Perhaps this means that Mithra’s ersatz coffee is especially convincing. I wouldn’t want to suggest outright that one of our fair citizens might be lying through her teeth, but there is scope for doubt here.
Every few years it seems we go through this same pointless debate. Voting. Councils. Mayors. Why, dear fellow citizens, do any of you imagine that if we vote someone in, they will then be able to change things! Votes will not enable to us to leave the island. Votes will not improve the climate, or health provision. Votes will however enable a few self righteous people to feel more smug than ever.
Our island was settled with a spirit of independence and self reliance. We get things done by co-operating with each other, not by putting people in charge. We are all equals, and we should keep it that way! Our founding fathers are probably turning in their graves at the thought of ‘democracy’. I am surprised their shades have not yet risen up to challenge this modern lack of sense and moral courage!
I appeal to you to stay away from the meeting at the Town Hall this Friday, where the self righteous amongst us will be trying to persuade you to give up your right to self determination. If you must go, do so with anger, and a good supply of rotten vegetation.
As you may remember, dear readers, slightly over two weeks ago, three of our number attempted to leave. Oedipus Raft (21), Titus Raft (19) and Sam Raft (17) set sail in a rowing boat, declaring their intention to reach the mainland. It will come as no great surprise when I tell you they failed. Theirs, by my reckoning, is the 27th such attempt in the last decade, and no more effective than any other. Still, managing sixteen days in the unfriendly waters beyond our shores is no small achievement and they should be commended for their determination.
None of the boys are in good health. When I attempted to interview them, Titus repeated the words ‘It’s looking at me. It keeps looking at me.’ I asked them what they found out there, and Oedipus claimed ‘It goes on forever,’ but would not add any details. Thus adding very little to our knowledge of the state of the world.
I can’t imagine anyone missed the major event of last week, but as nothing else of note happened, I’m reporting it anyway as there may be more to this than meets the eye.
On Tuesday night, a bloodstorm swept the island, covering people, buildings and streets. We were lucky in that the rain on Wednesday washed away the worst of it. I consulted Doc Willoughby who confirmed that the red rain was definitely blood, but he could not say if it was animal or human. Where did all the blood come from? Does it represent some unimaginable horror that has happened beyond the boundaries of our beloved island? How could so much blood have become airborn, with no trace of any bodyparts? I fear this latest mystery may go unsolved, but if you have possible answers, do share them.
Once again the Jones’s opened Meadow Farm to the public to share the delights of spring. Families flocked to see flowers, chicks and lambs. Nothing quite equalled last year’s mutant goat, but the three legged chickens were as popular as ever. Other attractions included the traditional pie fight, a tour of the farm and assorted contests. The spitting contest was won by Ethan Miller while the wife carrying contest was won by Reginald Aubergine. However, this caused some controversy as Mrs Asumpta Aubergine is of course dead, and as a ghost, weighs nothing and cannot technically be carried, which many feel gave him an unfair advantage. No prize was given for best cake, as the cakes were enlisted in attempts to solve the problems over the wife carrying contest. Whether cake throwing will replace pie throwing for next year remains to be seen! This reporter feels that the jam involved provided a nice change from the less appetising pie contents we get most years.
Regan Higsbottom, 42, missing for two weeks, declared dead. Church service Friday.
Births and Marriages. It is to be noted that we didn’t have any of either this week, and by my calculation if we keep this up for too long, we won’t have a population at all in fifty years time. I call upon the parents of Hopeless to take a responsible stance and ensure that your offspring are encouraged to go for nice walks with suitable others! You hardly see any courting couples about on the island. It’s a scandal!