How gratifying - The Guardian newspaper is to publish an article about me written by The Old Monkey.
I must say, it is heart warming to have ones good deeds recognised in this way although that is not, of course, why one does them.
My Hero - Uncle
How can I begin to number the kindnesses of my master Uncle?
He is a true hero to the people of his castle, Homeward.
For without his largesse they would not have a roof over their heads, or the food on their plates.
Not content with charging the many dwarfs of his towers a minimal rent, his charitable works show no bounds. Who can forget that wonderful day when he opened the Dwarfs Drinking Fountains?, or the parties that he has hosted, for all, at Christmas?
It brings a tear to my eye as I think of all those grateful inhabitants, of his vast domain, singing “Hail, Glorious Uncle!” in welcome everywhere we go.
His bounty goes even further than Homeward, however. He has earned the respect of Messrs Obama and Brown, and gratitude from the world, for preventing the collapse of global capitalism.
Yet, despite his vast wealth and his prominent position on the world stage he has never forgotten his humble beginnings. He has sought to help the youth of today to become good citizens and entrepreneurs.
He is much appreciated as a learned elephant of letters. Regrettably, and unaccountably, only two volumes of his biography are in print. The out of print volumes are much sought after by the cognoscenti.
The only cloud on his otherwise idyllic life of good works is the existence of the despicable Beaver Hateman and his band of miscreants.
A bunch of thieves and con-merchants, they attempt to disguise their dastardly acts beneath the cloak of political change. They make wild accusations against our kind-hearted Uncle in order to justify their own attempts to gain power.
For everyone nows that wars can end up being fought over energy resources. Of course, Barack and Gordon are most grateful to me for saving the Global Economy, but will our friendly relations survive when they discover one of the major sources of my wealth?
In Pittsburgh for the G20 summit. Gordon and Barack are very keen that I, having led the way on the crack down on banks' risky behaviour, should advise them all on market regulation.
As you know, here at Homeward I have decreed that all bank managers must go back to wearing bowler hats and living in modest semi-detached houses. It has certainly done the trick, that and the fact that all bank staff have to say sorry on behalf of their banks every time they serve a customer.
Gordon was absolutely furious, however, when I ducked out of the working dinner (An appalling idea, how can one enjoy one's repast whilst discussing global economic issues?) so that I could go to Michelle Obama’s dinner held at the beautiful organic farm owned by Theresa Heinz Kerry.
It is a lovely farm - Butterskin Mute would be quite jealous of some of the produce being grown. As I said to Sarah and Michelle, he would be astonished at the size of their melons.
Sarah and Michelle had even baked a carrot cake for me!
It was covered in organic chocolate and inscribed in white icing "To Uncle, Saviour of Global Capitalism!"
I was greatly touched, for an elephant from lowly beginnings to be feted by such two beautiful ladies was indeed an honour.
After dinner we travel back to our hotels and I can finally catch up with Gordon after our respective busy days. He was still sore at me for avoiding the working dinner, but I cheered him up with the promise of an injection of a few extra billion to the World Bank.
Joey Beadle, who once falsely claimed to be a Member of the World Wizard Association, has performed a dastardly trick on unsuspecting viewers of Badfort TV.
In his latest televisual stunt he left his audience stuck to their seats.
"I can't feel my legs," said one goat watching the programme, in what he assumed was the security of his own home.
A dwarf said: "It's just very bizarre. I'm trying hard to get up but I can't."
One Beaver said: "I feel like the bottom of my back is wielded to my sofa."
Beadle, whilst assuring the TV audience that the trick had no side effects, had secretly done a deal with Badfort TV and members of the Badfort Crowd made their way around the houses of the incapacitated occupants looting them.
They would have got away with this if it were not for the fact that I had got wind of their plans and arranged for a subliminal jamming message, prepared by Wizard Blenkinsop, to be transmitted directly after Beadle's broadcast.
This influenced the Badfort Crowd to involuntarily place their hands behind their heads and remain frozen.
They were all rounded up by the Badgertown police.
Unfortunately, Beadle used his twisted genius to hypnotise the police into believing that they had mistakenly arrested the King of the Badgers and his retinue. The Badfort Crowd were released with profuse apologies from the Chief of Police who has today, of course, submitted his resignation.
I have to say I have been far more impressed with the inventions that were presented to us today.
My Treasury guard, Oldeboy, was first up.
Noddy Ninety gave him an encouraging smile as he began his presentation. Oldeboy is only about sixteen, but he is always pretending to be old. He admires Noddy Ninety so much he copies him in every possible way, even wearing an artificial beard and large spectacles.
He removed a white sheet covering his mysterious object. It appeared to be a likeness of my self in leather and metal!
"Remarkable!" I exclaimed "What is it for?"
"Sir, I give you the elephant battle suit!" he declared.
"It provides the ultimate protection from duck bomb attack - filters out all noxious fumes and is impervious to the sticky contents of the devices. It has highly sensitive sound detection earpieces preventing members of the Badfort Crowd sneaking up on you. Also included are tusk electric ray emitters that disable combatants. The leather trunk protector also acts as an amplifier causing your attacker to run screaming from the high pitched audio assault!" explained Oldeby.
"Splendid!" I exclaimed "A marvelous invention, at last!"
"Ahem, but Sir, is there really a big market for such a singular item? after all, there are not huge numbers of elephants under constant attack from the Badfort Crowd." queried the Old Monkey.
"Nonsense!" I retorted "I'm in! I'll have a dozen, Oldeboy!"
The next in was my music teacher. He is a little man called Gordono. His real name is Thomaso Elsicar Gordono. He's an Italian, and everyone calls him the Maestro. He had a musical invention for us.
"I call this the Twock - it is a clockwork music player with literally thousands of tunes stored on it. Moreover, one can also use it for twitting. I know, Sir, that you are a profound twitter and you will be pleased to know that every turn of the key produces enough power for 5 twits!"
He then proceeded to demonstrate the product.
I have to admit to having a tear in my eye when the beautiful rendition had finished.
"I think even the most steely hearted businessman would be moved to invest in this beautiful product, I think you would all agree?" I declared to the panel.
Finally, Den Dwarf came forward with his product.
"It's a teasmade, Sir!" he expounded - clearly very proud of his metalwork invention.
"It's a little on the large side for a bedside implement, wouldn't you say" I replied sceptically.
"Not when you've got a load of other dwarfs living with you all clamoring for a cuppa in the morning!" he argued.
"He has a point" said the Old Monkey, looking at the machine covetously "Think how many people I have to serve breakfast to in the mornings at Homeward!"
"Well, I am afraid I think it is ugly - I'm out!" I snorted.
The Old Monkey decided that he would invest in the monstrosity. He has managed to save a fair bit of his wages over the years and it was clear to me that he could not resist the shiny brass time saver.
Noddy Ninety decided to invest as well - he cannot resist anything that involves the production of steam.
Today was the first day of recording of my new televison programme for the Badgertown Broadcasting Corporation. Uncles'Den sees entrepreneurs pitching for investment from some of Homeward's top business brains.
I lead the panel of investors, of course, with the Old Monkey,as always, by my side. He always gives sound advice.
Dearman, being the largest retailer in Homeward, is also on the panel. He will provide expertise on the likely market for any products put forward.
The King of the Badgers, being the best at finding ways of borrowing money, is here to scrutinise how good they are at cadging.
Finally, our fifth panel member is Noddy Ninety. He has been at school so long now that he is an expert at mathematics and will check that all the inventors sums add up.
He is also keen to see any ideas for new modes of transportation - especially steam driven innovations.
First up was the old miser Whitebeard. With a cackling laugh that sent shivers down the spine he entered. His voice seems to have some kind of sickening effect, for the moment you hear it you feel rather ill, or at any rate seedy and depressed.
"You'll love this, Unc!" he cried as he climbed into an alarming contraption made of a tin bath, and a bucket suspended on broom handles.
"I call this the showermatic..." he explained "Who wants to spend a fortune on expensive bath paraphernalia when one only has a bath once a month? This simple system enables all to have a cheap and cheerful shower!"
"It is not very attractive is it?" I conjectured.
"Well you keep it in the cupboard most of the time don't you!" he retorted.
"I'm sorry - I would not give it house room - for that reason I am out!" I snapped back.
"Well that don't surprise me mister high and mighty elephant - I couldn't make one big enough for you anyway!" he barked at me.
"How much do you expect this item to retail for?" asked Dearman
"At least a fiver I should think, for this kind of engineering!" said Whitebeard in an offhand manner.
"Five pounds! - I could not sell this product for more than 6d in my store! You are just being greedy and money grubbing! I am out!" said a shocked Dearman.
Whitebeard got short shrift from the rest of the panel and stormed out screaming "Its your loss - I have already got firm offers from Richard Branson!"
Next up was a young badger with what appeared to be a toilet roll stuck on his head!
"This," he declared "Is what all hay fever sufferers have been yearning for!"
"When afflicted," he continued "all they need to do is pull the next sheet of tissue paper down in order to wipe their eyes or nose - instant relief from the painful symptoms of a runny, itchy blocked nose, and sneezing."
"The luxury model also contains tissues impregnated with aloe - a soothing balm!" he added.
"Do you not think that, ahem, one might feel somewhat ridiculous walking around with a roll of tissue on ones head?" I countered.
"Well you might, cos you are a bit self concious - but all my friends say that it is very fetching!" argued the badger.
"I suppose one could hide the apparatus in a top hat?" conjectured the King of the Badgers.
Needless to say it did not take long for us all to decide that this was not a venture we were prepared to invest in.
The final bright spark of the day was none other than Butterskin Mute.
"What have you got for us then Mute? - something to do with farming I presume?" I asked.
"Not exactly, no Sir," he replied "One major problem I have found is finding my way to the many farmers markets I attend. I often get lost on the way. I have therefore come up with a system I call the Geographic Positioning System, or GPS for short. One simply inserts a range of maps into this wrist based device and by turning these knobs one can see exactly where one has to go next!"
"Have you patented this device yet?" asked Wizard Blenkinsop.
"Not as yet, Sir, but I know of no other device capable of such advanced route keeping" he proudly informed us.
"I fear, Mute, that you have, in fact, been beaten to the market. In my own traction engine I have a 'GPS' device that I am afraid is much more technologically advanced than your own. For that reason - I am afraid that I am out!" I sadly explained.
All was not lost, however, as Dearman decided to invest in the product. "At a price point of 1s 6d I feel that it will prove a practical alternative to the more expensive products on the market!" he expounded clapping Mute on the back.
I must admit, I feel somewhat disappointed with the quality of ideas put forward so far.
There's nothing personal about it but, being a self made multi-millionaire, I am always getting letters from people, and being asked at social gatherings "How can I, too, become a world famous, extremely rich entrepreneur?"
What can I say? For, as is well known, I come from lowly beginnings and have strived all my life to pull myself up by my bootstraps and gain the exalted position that I have today.
The answer is hard work - but this is not what people wish to hear. They want to think that there is some easy, magic way to the top.
One is reminded of the story of Picasso. Someone said that he would pay him to draw a picture on a table napkin. He quickly drew a sketch and said, "One million dollars, please."
"A million dollars?" the man exclaimed. "That only took you thirty seconds!"
"Yes," said Picasso. "But it took me fifty years to learn how to draw that in thirty seconds."
Hard work and application are the route to success - This may seem unfair, but it is the truth. It is something that the Badfort Crowd have refused to accept - with their attempts to gain financial advantage through various dodges and scams.
I cannot be expected to impart my wisdom for nothing, however, I have agreed to take part in a new television programme for budding entrepreneurs. It will be called Uncle's Den and each week contestants who have what they consider to be a viable and potentially very profitable business idea, but who lack funding and direction, can pitch their idea to myself and other Homeward business gurus.
Being a professional writer I am also frequently asked to read novels and scripts.
Frankly, I am not prepared to do this - the reason that my own literary efforts are so admired is because they are based on my own life. I live a varied and exciting existence which is of a great deal of interest to everyone - most people live rather boring and mundane lives and their jottings reflect this.
I give all the unsolicited writings I receive to Lucy to peruse and reply to. She has a fascination with the kitchen sink drama of everyday life.
It appalls me that the blatant musical propaganda of the Badfort Crowd is still being inflicted on the impressionable youth of today.
The seemingly bouncy and upbeat 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer and Sickle' was in reality a promulgation of violent insurrection, 'Lenin in the Sky With Diamonds' nothing but a paean to a radical insurrectionist and as for 'Back in the USSR' - the title says it all.
Of course the age old debate regarding sixties music is - who was better 'The Baddies' or 'The Monkees'? 'The Monkees' were a fabulous group formed by The Old Monkey and some of his relatives from the jungle.
I, of course, always much preferred The Monkees finding their work far more creative - not too say more tuneful.
Critics of 'The Monkees' observe that they were simply the "prefab bad", a made-for-TV knockoff of 'The Baddies' - ignoring the fact that their songs were always far more uplifting, promoting good citizenship and healthy living.
Also 'The Monkees' had their own car and better knitted hats.
It is fair to say, however, that there have always been two camps - and I think it is now clear, following his recent comments in 'The Radio Times', which camp Mister Stephen Fry is in. He is clearly anti-monkey.
I think it is also obvious, now, who has been orchestrating this campaign.
Following my diatribe against Mister Stephen Fry's monkist comments, it would seem that his followers have leapt to his support.
A number of them have been spotted wearing anti-monkey T-shirts.
It is no surprise to see Mister Jeremy Clarkson wearing one. In one addition of his show, Top Gear, he compared the merits of different executive saloon cars, and alluded to the kind of cars he thought monkeys drove. He did this by displaying a monk and a key on the bonnet of a car, attempting to sidestep, one presumes, charges of offensive language. The point, it seems, was to indicate that the Audi in question was built for businessmen, not "monkeys", and if the viewer wanted a more exciting drive, he or she would choose another car.
It is quite shocking, however, to discover how many so-called liberals harbour anti-monkey feelings.
It would appear that Mister Stephen Fry is not the only one who has revealed monkist tendencies.
It would seem that the author of certain childish escapist literature, a Mister Charles Murray Higson, harboured anti-monkey sentiments in his 'punk youth'
Under the nom de plume Switch, he was responsible for a vicious diatribe against monkeys entitled "I do not want to live with monkeys'.
Clearly designed to incite people against the monkey populace it reveals a dark side to this 'comedian' that he, no doubt, had hoped to draw a veil over.
I hope that he is thoroughly ashamed of his youthful indiscretion, however, I have assured the Old Monkey that Mister Higson's works will be banned from Homeward until he receives a personal apology for this affront to monkeys everywhere.
The Old Monkey is in tears. He is deeply upset by remarks made by Mister Stephen Fry in a Radio Times interview about his forthcoming series Last Chance to See.
Regarding monkeys, Mister Fry states "Monkeys remind me of the worst features of humanity. Greed, deceit, rapacity, cupidity, aggression, self-pity, selfishness - but without the altruism, compassion, curiosity and charm."
I am appalled. The Old Monkey has been in my service for many years and has always been a faithful friend and helper. He has always acted in a selfless manner for the good of the citizens of Homeward.
Why Lemurs have been exempted from these critical remarks I do not know ? - everyone is aware of their duplicitous nature. Indeed, Mister Beaver Hateman has used them a number of times to carry out illegal activities requiring victims to be duped by their apparent cuteness. He has trained many in the skills of dipping and pocket picking.
The Old Monkey is distraught - he has always looked up to Mister Fry and, in particular, has used the fellows portrayal of Jeeves the butler as his role model in how to best serve myself.
I expect an immediate apology for this slur on my trusted valet.