Brothers in Hate

Of course, the big news event, whilst I have been absent from the interweb, has been the battle for control of the Bad Party between the Hateman brothers.

The poor showing by the Bad Party at the Badgertown Town Council elections led to a tussle for leadership between the Hateman brothers.

I know, astounding as it may seem, after his many years in power, the citizens of Badfort turned against their leader Beaver Hateman and he was forced out of office.

His cousin Sigismund declared "He is bad-tempered miserable old git and it's about time we got rid of him!"

Nailrod and Filljug Hateman immediately put themselves up for the job, closely followed by Hitmouse. In order to make the contest as inclusive as possible Nailrod persuaded some of his supporters to nominate Jellytussle - even though he is quite detested by most of the Badfort Crowd.

Who to choose though? Ideologically speaking, were they that different from each other and, indeed, from their brother Beaver?

Sartorially speaking their was certainly very little difference - both wearing the trademark garb of Badfort, the sack cloth dress. Nailrod looked smarter, and it was later discovered that Ozwald Boateng gave him a discount on two sack cloth suits.

Sharing the politics of their father, the lefty intellectual Ralph 'Roughie' Hateman, they are both commited to the international class struggle and both ran on a platform of bringing down the local capitalist 'gangster' - me.

Not so different to their brother Beaver, then.

In fact, there is so little difference that they both had equal numbers of supporters and much switching of allegiances caused, it would seem, by numerous gifts of Black Tom and Scob fish being offered by the candidates.

It was a very close vote, with Filljug being declared the winner by one vote. That is, until Flabskin cried out "I only voted for him because he gave me a chinese burn!"

At this declaration all hell broke loose. It all kicked off - with the two brothers and their supporters getting into a full scale fight over the issue. It seemed entirely appropriate, to me, that this contest between the brothers would descend into a playground fight.

Their big brother decided to weigh in and sort the two of them out. "Wot you two fink you is doing!!" shouted Beaver, as his two brothers rolled around on the asphalt. "That's enough of your shenanigans - these counteracting tendencies are no way to bring about the collapse of capitalism! Off to bed with you!" he screamed.

"A strong leader - that's what we need!" shouted Hootman. "Hoorah for Beaver! Our great leader!" he added, winking at Beaver, whilst he passed Flabskin a large tankard of Black Tom.

Plus ça change, plus c'est la meme chose.

His cousin Sigismund declared "He is big-hearted genius, and is just the leader we need for these hard times!"


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The Blue Box

Sorry, for the lack of missives from Homeward over the last few months.

The fact is - you just cannot get the staff these days.

The old codger who writes up my memoirs has been busy on some mad-cap scheme of his own.

This has involved doing up some cottage in Kent, England. Apparently it used to belong to some adventurer called Doctor John Smith.

"Surely, nothing can be more important than the chronicle of my life?" I remonstrated with him. For they have a great significance on world events, do they not?

"But, it has a blue box that is bigger on the inside than the outside!" he wheedled.

"I hardly need to remind you that such things are commonplace here at Homeward!" I argued.

He had no answer to that.

Anyway, if it is of interest to you (which I sincerely doubt) here is a link to the website extolling its virtues.

http://www.doctorjohnsmith.co.uk

Hopefully, normal service will now be resumed and I shall tell you of recent events, here, at Homeward.

Tomorrow, I shall recount the tale of the Hateman brothers struggle for control of the Bad Party.

Helping the King of the Badgers

The King of the Badgers has asked me to head a Badgertown Town Hall spending review.

I am to identify inefficiencies and savings in Town Hall departments.

For a start, I shall put a stop to the practice of High Tea at 4 o'clock, everyday!

That should save, at least, 2/6d per day on cream buns.

Predictably, the Badfort Crowd have reacted with their usual vitriolic comments.

"He don't even live in Badgertown, or pay taxes there - in fact he don't pay any taxes at all! The King of the Badgers seems to be thrashing around trying to find people who will back up his dodgy plans for the destruction of our public services. What does Unc know about delivering public services on the ground?" said Beaver Hateman.

"We're not wholly surprised that the King of the Badgers has appointed a billionaire, to whom he owes many millions, to say that his cuts, which will devastate services in Badgertown, are 'fair'."

Poppycock! of course, I have wide experience in supplying public services - is it not I who supplies the many dwarfs of Homeward with a cask of herrings, a keg of Turkish Delight and a first-grade cheese every Christmas?

Goodman Infatuation

One of the followers of my blog, Kate, recently commented:

Dear Uncle,
What a delightful find your blog is! I have been a long-time Uncle fan. Would you be so kind as to post a high resolution photo of your dear cat, Goodman, reading so I may have it engraved on my iPhone case? I would be ever-indebted, kind sir.

Your wish is my command - click on the image below for a high resolution version:



I have to say, however, that I find the public's interest in him rather odd. Yes, he is very efficient at dealing with my correspondence and his postal duties - but he is far too talkative and prone to flights of fancy inculcated by a love of cheap fiction!

It's My Party and I'll ban who I want to

The Badfort party's latest quest for political respectability collapsed in fiasco when its leader, Beaver Hateman, was barred from the Unc's garden party at Homeward just two hours before it was due to begin after the Old Monkey decided he had exploited his invitation for financial gain.

Announcing the decision, the Old Monkey said brusquely: "Beaver Hateman will be denied entry to today's garden party at Homeward. As you know, it is traditional for there to be a friendly game of spigots at the annual party held on the lawns by the moat. It has been discovered that unusual bets had been laid on the outcome of the game - not only is this illegal and grossly discourteous but I have also been informed that bribes were offered to one player to give our dear Uncle a hefty blow on his trunk, in a feigned miss hit."

Uncle declared "In the prevailing spirit of conciliation, I offered the hand of friendship to my sworn enemy. Why should we only make truce at Christmas? I was willing to offer him hospitality at my annual Summer get together, as well. I was even prepared for the fact that I would have to put up with one or two insulting renditions of 'The Tyrant of Homeward'. But to cheat at Spigots - unforgivable!"

Hateman said "This is quite amazing news. This spurious Spigots story reveals that Unc was desperate for any excuse to bar me. I am held to a different standard to everyone else. The truth is that the fat dictator is frightened of the support the Badfort Crowd receives from the disgruntled, exploited, citizens of Homeward. I don't care anyway - his cucumber sandwiches stink!”

Book Conspiracy

Brad posted the following comment, here, yesterday:

Dear Uncle,

To spite the Badfort tribe I have a proposition for you. I hope that with your influence and widespread appeal on twitter we may get the remaining four volumes of your biography published. Post the New York Review Books' link to recommend a new title on your twitter: http://www.nybooks.com/books/recommend-book/

Tell everyone to give a spirited plea for a reprint of at least "Uncle and his Detective". I read a statistic that the NYRB only needs to sell around 5000 copies of a book to make a profit on the average cost of the rights to said book. So, if several hundred people write in within a month, let's say, they will know there is business to be had with Uncle. I hope you try this, as I am all eagerness to read your life story to my young niece. You are our favorite presiding pachyderm.

Best Wishes, Brad

What a splendid idea! My biographies are, of course, never out of print, here, at Homeward. Unfortunately, we are not able to offer a mail order service but you are all welcome to come and purchase them at the Homeward Souvenir Shop.

Many a young dwarf has come up to me and thanked me for the sage advice contained within and describing how my many adventures inspired them to turn from a dissolute life to one of entrepreneurship and good citizenry.

The Old Monkey is convinced that there is a conspiracy to keep my books off the shelves, masterminded by disgruntled politicians.

Clearly, sales of my biographies would massively outnumber titles such as 'The Audacity of Hope' or Mister Blair's forthcoming autobiography 'The Journey'.

I, myself, suspect that the answer is closer to home. I have it on good authority that publishers are reluctant to reprint my books out of fear of reprisals from the Badfort Crowd.

My Beach House

You will have noticed that I have not had the opportunity to pen my adventures, here, on the interweb over the last few months.

The Old Monkey and I have been very busy, recently, overseeing the design and build of my own little Beach House, by Wizard Blenskinsop, at my favourite resort - Sunset Beach.



As you can see, it has been built in the modernist tradition of Homeward. Sadly, the local council refused me permission for a tower in the middle but it has many of the attributes of that great citadel. There are lots of secret passages - and even the Wizard admits that he does not know the purpose or destination of them. There are 120 rooms - 90% of which are underground and can only be accessed via water chutes.

The only blot in the landscape is, as usual, a certain abode at the end of the garden owned by Beaver Hateman and his cronies.

Beaver claims that it was donated to the cause by an old man who claimed to have played a mayor opart in the Russian Revolution of 1917. This seems a fanciful story to me, and I suspect the rumour that he won it in a rigged game of Spigots is nearer the truth.

As you can see, it is an utter eyesore.



It is almost as ugly as Badfort itself.

I have also been busy embracing the new style of politics that is against pointless regulation and unnecessary bureaucracy. I have asked the public of Homeward how they want me to redress the balance between the citizen and myself.

Unfortunately, this has led to the usual silly responses. The dwarfs have said that they want the law repealing that allows the fine old tradition of dwarf throwing.

The grey squirrels want to repeal the requirement to report the sighting of them in your back garden to the Old Monkey. However, everyone knows that they are renowned for their scavenging ways and are not to be trusted.

Beaver Hateman, not surprisingly, wants the law repealed preventing the letting off of fireworks during my speeches.