From the Cliff
Edge
FROM
THE CLIFF EDGE - Number 1 By Simon Lovell
and Ned The Lemming
Joe,
with an obvious loss of sobriety, asked
me to sit, chained and roped, to my
computer and crank out some columns
for his Gemini board. I felt like asking,
"What's the board done to deserve that,?
but by then, having double checked the
locks and knots, he'd left me, armed
only with three slices of bread and
a case of whiskey, to begin the task.
As
the amber nectar began to peruse my
body I felt a golden, wafting glow coursing
through my entire system. Strange tingling
noise filled my ears and odd, blobby,
shapes drifted before my eyes. A tiny
squeak registered amidst the chaos and
I realized that I had, at long last,
discovered the furry coconut I'd been
looking for since those early pram ridden
days ... I had discovered the secret
of how to channel that most awesome
creature rodentia -- none other than
Ned The Lemming!
I
told Ned of Joe's idea and amid much
high pitched squeaking (sounding suspiciously
like laughter) he entered my brain.
Suddenly I could understand everything
he said (especially the repetition of,
"Is Joe mad?"), I was a spectator, yet
also participant, to a wondrous theater
taking place in my own mind! I made
a note to Joe on his private mail to
send in more whiskey and some alfalfa
grass for my new frisky little companion.
I
asked Ned if he could help with the
column and, after a long chew on the
grass and a Seabrookian like chug of
my ever-diminishing whiskey supply,
he agreed. I asked for his thoughts
on Magic and its performance and how
the column should approach such heady
topics. He sat back to begin ...
"Squeak,
Squeak, Squeak ... Squeak, Squeak, Sue
..." I stopped Ned realizing although
I could understand him nobody else would!
The problem was solved when I realized
that I'd found, with a strange and almost
esoteric coincidence, a Star Trek multi-language
(lemmings included) translation device
in my breakfast cereal box that very
morning! I attached it to my computer
and asked Ned to begin again ...
"I
think," he said, "that the column should
be interactive. We should ask people
to tell us about the topics they would
like to see discussed. This would mean
that the column would contain subject
matter that would interest the reader
and, cunningly, stop us having to think
of a topic each month."
"Brilliant,"
I muttered, wishing that I'd thought
of it first.
"Of
course, for I am Ned," continued my
sage but suicidal pal, "I don't want
to talk about tricks though -- Tarquin
The Hamster ... all hail Tarquin ...
has helped a bearded one in the south
who they call the Answer Man. There
can the tricks and methods amongst others
be found. I would rather chat about
performance, misdirection, body language
and other topics which although important
are all but ignored by so many in this
tiny bubble you call the magic world.
They may disagree with what I have to
say but that's good (so long as it doesn't
happen too often) for this speck of
dust upon the cosmic bottom needs healthy
argument to grow and become a hairy
wart we can all be proud of. I suggest
they send topics or questions to you
via the board. They could call you on
203-832-8536 to speak personally or
they could put goose feather (using
tar as ink) to parchment and direct
a pony express rider to deliver it to
you at 2086 Stanley St. #110, New Britain,
CT 06053." "But," I slurred with a sudden
stroke of inspiration, "Surely we'll
need to fill up the first column with
something. They won't know we're here
until it's posted -- What are we to
do? Tell me Ned, you who are so wise
in the growth of strange warts!"
"You
are yet a young lemming in the grand
scale of things," whispered the keeper
of all knowledge of cliff diving, "For
have we not already filled the first
column with the news of my fictitious
arrival and the tales of your factual
whiskey drinking!"
"He
truly is incredible," I thought as I
burped and slumped to the floor. Some
time during my sleep Ned left me to
recover. I didn't realize to channel
such a being gave one such a bad headache
the next day. I think I'll leave it
awhile before I try to bring him back
again.
Meanwhile
send in topics or questions as Ned suggested.
Meanwhile I'm going to take a Tylenol
or seven ... or maybe I'll just chew
on the alfalfa grass.
Bye
for now.
