Dr Fulminare loves Christmas. No, really. Why, no sooner is it 1 December than he's trimming his ragged cloak with fur, tucking Bandijcat into his miniature Santa hat and skipping about, musing on how to stuff stockings. That or he's skulking in a corner, swearing about the Guild of Alchemists in a more festive tone than usual. What we mean is, he marks the season in his own way.
This year, much like Jack Skellington before him, the good doctor has decided to play Father Christmas, and to that effect, has composed his Naughty and Nice lists for all to view. Who has pleased him throughout the year and who has incurred his wrath?
The Arts Council of this Land
This industrious crew are clearly mages of some kind. How else would they have the energy to promote and champion not only my glorious works but those of countless other small presses? I'll wager they've been at the Gnat's Fire. Either way, with work of swich quality I shall not eliminate them in a hurry!
Stockholm Review of Literature
Ah, yes. The Stockholm Review of Literature. My Scandinavian co-conspirators for this year's Alkemi Europoetry event! Translators, editors, poets and fablespinners, they are a cross-cultural force to be reckoned with! Mayhap they can also be convinced to smuggle me back some of that Swedish mercury...
SJ Fowler has, at less than 100 years old, achieved one of my life's goals: cloning himself. What else but Doppelgaengers could explain this poetry Puck's scamperings across the globe, across artforms, across languages? Whether he is reading in India, hosting bilingual nights in London, teaching, exhibiting or simply posing with bears (Life Goal #2, damn him), he is a force to be reckoned with. I would put him on the Naughty list through sheer bitterness, but he does MMA, and I have an old war wound.
I had been planning to visit experiments on the clearly extraterrestrial biped known as Bowie. I had also been planning to harvest Alan Rickman's voice. I had just finished a STELLAR proposal to the Alchemical Research Forum on the pheromones of Prince and mirth-giving properties of Victoria Wood. Typical of some mountebank like Death to come and swipe my dreams to the dust. Tenpence says the rogueish reaper is in the employ of a certain envious guild. Now the world shall never know the wonder of my Leonard Clone, the possibilities of the Wilder Gene Machine or the terror of MechaWogan.
The Pro-Leave Campaign
Do you have ANY idea of the import tax due on Swedish mercury? Not to mention Bandijcat's favourite Mausenbitzenkatzenfutter crunchies? You meddling fools!
Blasted zephyrs! Dratted daemons of light! Whither scoot they? Do they live inside the bleating box in my hand? Are they Will 'o' the Wisps, luring me to my doom? WHAT IS A CHARMANDER? I must harness their power or be rid of them!