1st Letter to Professor Wainwright Edit
It must first be noted that:
- At the muscular/anal stage, shame develops with the child’s self-consciousness.
- Doubt has to do with having a front and back – a lack of understanding of rules.
- Leftover doubt may/will become paranoia.
- This being true, at a later stage, the emotion of guilt is new and confusing to the child.
Therefore we conclude, sir, that you are guilty and shameful, but not ashamed of your guilt. Chiastic as that may be, you are also ‘inferior’. It is also proposed that you are incapable of commitments and have lost the hope of industrious associations. Ultimately, this leaves you isolated and lacking the promise of a career.
Experiment 1: An experiment was carried out to determine the depth of your depression. First, the last instalment of your writings were placed in a 500ml beaker. Next, a Bunsen burner was lit. Finally, the beaker was tipped over the naked flame. The findings were not deemed definitive enough and the experiment was continuously repeated using any available paper penned by your hand until only the electronic copies remained (later a new experiment was devised concerning these documents and a claw hammer).
This line of inquiry leads us inexorably to the question, “What kind of life have you lived?” The outcome is unlikely to be positive, indeed, all words of kindness have been systematically removed from the dictionary using a craft knife (serrated).
Next we are drawn to your statement, “For all things whereas neither having been then, to natives must the cage look appear to have been freedom once.” Should that not have read, “To the natives a cage looks like prison”, which clearly points out your failings as a grammatician.
Experiment 2: An experiment was carried out to determine that Professor Wainwright is a part of the whole, despite his comments re natives. First, one of the evil Professor’s victims was given a slice of tea bread. Then, a buttered knife was placed in his hands. Next, he was asked to perform an action which included both items. The native licked the butter off the knife and crushed the tea bread into a paste so he could smear it on the knife. Conclusions were drawn:
- The knife/tea bread/butter complex was understood to mean that rather than use the traditional and western ’subject, verb, object’ syntax the native preferred a ‘conjunctive, gerund and reversed pro-drop parameter’ framework.
- ‘Knives’ is fear of the white man
- Fear of the white man reveals underlying guilt
- Underlying guilt clearly points to defiance of paternal authority
- Defiance of paternal authority is due to a consciously defective anal mechanism
- A consciously defective anal mechanism leads directly to pleasure
- Pleasure = Paranoia
It is only left to set out the conclusive discoveries that have been made. Children that have been left to cry themselves to sleep (as you yourself advocate) lack self-awareness and have only the last vestiges of confidence in their actions and must rely wholly on the emotional support of a dominant companion. We posit that your dominant companion might demand certain things from you which we dare not investigate further, needless to say you are dangerous to animals, tree structures and nested stacks.
Yours in righteous moral rectitude,
Carl M. Penrose MD MSc BMus
Head of Cognitive Behavioural Sciences (CBS)
University of Huddershill
2nd Letter to Professor Wainwright Edit
I say. I do not despise you, even when you ignore me. This is not a personal matter - it is universal. There are certain things of importance and they can be proved to exist. Therefore we devised an experiment.
But I digress, we should start at the opening of this fearful saga.
Act 1, Scene 1:
- An Question: When buying a (triplet/trio/triad/triumvirate (delete as appropriate)) of scotch eggs, what was first put in: the crispy outside or the egg? We suggest that is was done by a rabbit, since they have paws.
- An Answer: Yeah, verily good Sirah, that is an issue of surety et cetera… (elipsis) Yes!
[Enter a man of dubious distinction]
- Morality: I can’t, don’t. There is no ‘I’. Only a lack of decorum. Ha, that hurts your brains!
- Immorality: I like you, but you can’t convince me of your sérieux (I am a French). What say you?
[A robot of humble proportions enters clumsily. He is a classical composer named Eric. He has no trousers]
- Robot: Space is where to a house?
[A vortex to Hull opens in the robot's face]
- Trousers: No one can see me! Haha (sung with an augmented fourth), I am the perversion and still impotent in my absence.
[In a back alley within the vortex (Hull), a knight suddenly appears]
- Sir Derek: Eee Gads Man, where’s yo troosers?
- Eric’s Eye Vortex: [whimpers] I am thunder, hear me roar.
[Eric pathetically crumples into a small heap]
- God: I will end you good sir!
[The heavens are shining with administrative rigor. The desks, computers & office equipment are lined up as in a miners' gala parade]
- Kompy the computer: Eeeeeh! I love thee, Mansy. Come hither!
THE END [it ends]
Yours in hope,
Prof. Carl M. Penrose