The Journal of Provincial Thought
jptArchives Issue 18
lildiamond1-Iss18-Asse Ch 3luminancediamond2_18Asse Ch 3 Pigasus- Cogito ergo nix iss18- c2007 Schafer-Asse Ch 3
from private reserve copyright 1978-2010
Book 19: An Asse Upon the Throne
1. Presume'd Lust of the Stonechewer.........pp. 1-2
2. Shek's Pity ....................................................p. 2
3. Cauldron of Emotien.................................pp. 3-4
4. The Opionic Interventien..........................pp. 4-6
5. Shek's Pity................................................pp. 6-7
6. The Tidywoman Stomach'd by Fairo........pp. 7-8
Indectic ......................................................pp. 9-10
spacer Asse on Throne Ch 3
Asse on Throne Ch 3 indicator
An Asse Upon the Throne of Olde 3
Cauldron of Emotien
N- Ch 1 Asse on Throne
ow when The King of the Rock—for there did abide a King of Astrobaster Rock, all ready—gat tidings of these shaky makes affecting his rule, he gatherd in him
unholiness, and became unholy, and took & bongd a gong and struck up a concert of dirges.  And he went by sled & furry boot through the Devil’s Icebox unto Mount Ylar, wherein dwelt the holy & the weird, and besought there in a high terrace the Oracol, saying, Orac, Orac.  And he seen a dais of rude stones then, having embeddnd therein the Oracol, the which he seen to be an ovoidial figureen hewn & blewn of smoke’t glass.  And availing him self of an aggressor’s gait he approach-ed nigh upon that divine conduit of the Allknow, and seen that she were etcht with names and slogons and lewd fancies from centchuries of exposiure unto all manner of humanidy.    

            And the King spake unto the Oracol, saying, The eyes that here do lodge in the head atops’n present shoulders, have not they witnesst treason?  [Tho, with ears had he but tidings heard, yet seen not such with any eyes.  But he practist retteric there before the Oracol.]  Hath this fist (saith he) not purple close’d in fury, the hamstringue haunches not rippld in their rage for the mortifying crimes of the toothlost fool which dangleth soil’s own feet from mine emerald Wonderthrone—a gift, this throne, from some of the gods, in honour of my quality—whereupon I in sitting do uniquely validate a case for worldly aspirasiens?  [Tho the throne were neither emerald, but wicker & pitch, neither any capital Wonder.  Neither hath it come gifted from any gods, but off from offen the porch of his bedfast aunt came it.  Faaa!  Loading his bulk thereupon validateth but the chair for its exceeding strength.]  Thus all spake the King before the Oracole.

            But the King of Astrobaster Rock, all his wont was to speak & be heard, neither hath he in his heart any true regard for answers from omnishient hearers.  And he seen there in the rude dais the blind unspeaking Oracol all sullied, and knew that he hath no humer for its spectacol.  And he made as to turn & go.  But reach-ed he then neath his eiderdown kilt, and of sudden sprang about and brought down a mincing mallet down upon the Oracle, and tosh!—brake it unto subatoms, e’en unto motes & tittles brake he it.  And in his lust of Oracolbreakage declar-ed he through slaver, I have suff’t enogh of sharing power with an egg.  And he blay a parting kiss of mockery.

sprang about & brought down a mincing mallet

            And he turnt then his gall upon the stone figure of the god Cosmo with its posing muscles, and rase up the mincing mallet, threating through wolfsteeth, Come, thews; see how that I put thy loaf on the floor, as well.  And strode he then outen the place, callt the Oracol Lounge by sayists of histeries, and went he by sled & furry boot agayn through the Devil’s Icebox, he full with frigid purpose and a visien of the posture he henceforth wud to strike.  None more of the pliabol & considring & compromitic Kingue heretofore so belov-ed of him self, none more of’t; but in steads a Kingh with first word in a matter, first word to be also the last & markt by a mallet.  One King, One Face; and that Face be angry all the times.  And as he went he knew not that a blended vengeance, issu-ed of the miscible powers of the Oracol and of Cosmo and of a downing spirit in the Devil’s Icebox, had layd on and sent him mad.

4. The Book of Wine & Seizures

            And the freshly mad King enterd into his Emerald Room (insofar as wicker is emerold), and beheld he there then old Shek’s pitied distract there upon My throne!, for that was whereat that Shek hath told him so to perch.  And the King of the Rock took the neck of a chicken, and went a whirl-&-hurl with it, and snesh!—it piercid the armour of Shek’s blankster all agape, which armour were but some pickld rags.  And that victom, he pitcht down smitten off from offen the throne, yea, e’en after all his living and its thousant breaths.

            Tremenduloe!  Bravadioder Magrosnikook! crieth the King of the Rock, which express-ed for him self the notien, What an man am I, and what an man have I come to be!  For even in my youth (notiond he) did I wield a wicked neck, yea, e’en from the time that I slew, with the neck of an ostrich, the galaxy lion that trackt & traded in my flocks.  [But the King of the Rock exalteth him self with mystory fables, for there was no such time, nor no such galoxie lion, nor no such neq of any ostorich.  Yet, he against this present one having residual braken teeth did with the nek of a chikkin prevail; and this, seen in its own light, were certainly commendabol.]

            Now then proceeded the King of the Rock to drag away the carcus of the scatterd youth away from the throne whereat he lay pitcht.  Saith the King, This my sweetseat, my godpod, my theraputicol throne, ’tis neither for the hobbld nor the skullwhackt nor the necksmit.  ’Tis for to nestle a man of prowess who seizeth all and giveth out nought but bumpfs; unto that manner of man alone is welded & wed this neat thronewerk.

neck of chicken piercid the armour

grape leaves Ch 3 Asse on Throne

point back to Ch2 AsseMust reread Ch 2 Now read point to top Ch 3 Asse it right Do not proceed point to Ch 4 Asse
jptARCHIVE Issue 18
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