"It was hilarious," said a former Fairfax worker yesterday.
"We'd go down to the Fairfax annual general meeting, record his speeches that would go on forever, and then we'd all run back to the office and get out our dictionaries.
"Most of the words we'd never heard of before, but they all existed even though they hadn't been used for 100 years."
To prologise - gadzooks!
One does not expect perpetual encomia when one confronts peripeteia involving incarceration but, really, the peons are getting above themselves. I could understand insubordinate compositors but for wordsmiths to oppugn my linguistic felicity is extraordinarily odious. In what times have we arrived when it’s hopelessly optative for me to assume comprehension when speaking to persons in their native tongue? During peroration, all too quickly do the functionally illiterate cry grandiloquence.
Let’s be clear here, I’m not being accused of verbosity or prolixity but of the sin of learning and if crapulent mediocrities can’t understand me, I say the fault lies with them. I trust you will not think it rodomontade to point out that I have written well received biographies of Nixon and Roosevelt when the best these half-wits have knocked out is 500 heavily edited words on a collision between a small goods pantechnicon and a Peta protest. That story writes itself! But to capture on page the essence of quixotic FDR or mercurial Nixon is as elusive and fraught as the conjugal right.
No doubt the jaundiced hacks will beat timbrels as conveyed by tumbrel I commence incarceration. But armed with Roget and several years, my revenge will be exhaustive, if lacking concision.
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