Tuesday August 17, 2004

The Dwindling Exactitude of Mail, part 4 filed in Guests

Dear Ade,</p> <p>Thank you for the postcard. Given that you had a space of approximately 7 by 10 centimetres in which to write, I think you did rather well. </p> <p>I did not mean to seem overly dismissive of Mr. Wingman's comments regarding the physical pleasures to be derived from letters. The tactile pleasures of writing in ink are not to be forgotten. Indeed, although you correctly identify the flow of ink on finely grained paper as one of the greatest pleasures, I think there is an equally diverting pleasure to be had from the scratch of oily biro on whatever you have to hand. This is often where my best ideas get written. On free listing magazines, used tickets, and most importantly of all, envelopes. Send me an Email, and I'll have no envelopes to hand when the perfect couplet for that difficult sonnet I'm composing springs to mind unbidden.
So, no, you are not the only one to revel in this. Revel away. It is, after all, an Uborgy. On which note, I'd like to add a disclaimer. It was not my intention to hijack this week's theme. I'd be happy to see some letters to and from other Uborkites. Wherefore are you all?</p> <p>Yours smugly,</p> <p>Doctor Pockless,<br /> Polaroid Cinematographer & Man of Letters.

Doctor Pockless
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