Essays: On Erotica, Racism and Speech Impediments (774 hits)
Category: PoliticsRating: 1.61 on 42 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Flash Harry (View user info) at 2008-04-14 05:54:32 EDT
From Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, write an account of Marlow's visit from the point of view of the chief accountant of 'unexpected elegance' at the downriver Company Station.
* * * * *
"Penelope's breasts seemed to take on a life of their own, as they heaved and writhed in time to her ecstatic moans of joy...no, no. scrub that, it's too...it's not...dirty enough.
Penelope's...sorry, Penny's...tits! That's the one, yes, tits. Ahem! Look at me when I'm dictating to you, Plebworth! Penny's tits bounced frantically up and down as...as Rupert penetrated deep inside her with his...his...oh gosh...any ideas?"
"His throbbing staff, Sir?"
"Yes, very good Plebworth, very good. His throbbing staff. Very...rural, don't you think? Or is it too poetic? No, no its fine. Now, where was I...I say, what is that commotion?"
The chief accountant stepped cautiously over to the wall of his office, where he peered through one of the many gaps in the wood. "My word! How unusual. Plebworth, come and have a look at this."
Plebworth hurried alongside the accountant, taking care not to tread on his recently-polished, immaculate boots.
"What a curious fellow...oh God, Plebworth, don't stand so close! If you've stained this jacket - its alpaca, don't you know! Do you have any idea how hard that poor native woman would have to scrub, if this were to be stained? Do you, Plebworth? You common peasant...look at this chap, Plebworth...is he?...he is, he's feeding those brutes! What an extraordinary gesture! Quite a respectable chap, too! Plebworth, I'd like you to - oh for Christ's sake! You little vermin!"
The accountant grabbed Plebworth by the head with two hands, and swiftly yanked the servant's nose from his armpit. "How many times, Plebworth, how many bloody times!? This is damn expensive l'eau de toilette, not that you'd understand that, you uneducated swine, and with you...inhaling all the fumes there'll be no more scent left will there, Plebworth? Will there? You...heathen worm!"
The accountant quivered with rage, his face turned an unhealthy crimson and his sublime hair became ever so slightly array. He put his arms by his sides, elevated his nose and took a few deep breaths. His face slowly returned to a more respectable shade. Plebworth cowered by the accountant's knees.
"I'd like you to take my dictation and file it with the others. Then I'd like you to go and wash yourself, you smelly little man." Plebworth nodded slowly, trembled to his feet, filed the manuscript and made to leave.
"Plebworth!" The servant turned, sheepishly. "Bring me a mirror and a hairbrush. I must look pristine when I meet this generous visitor."
The accountant smoothed out his hair in the mirror, then took a step back and admired just how respectable he looked. "High starched collar..." he muttered to himself, "white cuffs...light alpaca jacket..." he looked accusingly at Plebworth, "no thanks to you!...snowy trousers...a clear necktie...varnished boots...no hat...hair parted...brushed...oiled...something's missing...Plebworth, where's my silver pen-holder? The one that was a gift from the - yes, that's the one." He slipped the pen-holder behind his ear.
"Perfect...Plebworth, it's raining outside. Fetch me your parasol...and don't look at me like that, you know I don't like getting mine wet. Thank-you. And now, I'm ready. Make yourself scarce, Plebworth. I thought I told you to wash? You still stink. Come and find me when I'm ready for my supper."
The accountant strolled out the office with an air of sheer grandeur. Plebworth stood where he was, puzzled by the last command.
"But Sir, how will I know when -"
"Don't argue with me Plebworth, just do it!"
The accountant watched the man from just outside the doorway. He was wandering back and forwards among the dying savages, looking deep into their faces as though trying to recognise some aspect of humanity within their contorted grimaces. The accountant watched the man, as the man watched one poor bugger crawl towards the filthy river to drink, no doubt only making his suffering worse by consuming the scum of the Congo.
He soon seemed to bore of watching the black dogs die, and began hurrying his way towards the station. The accountant went to meet him.
"How do you do?" the accountant extended a hand to the weary visitor, "My name is Gerald, and I'm the chief accountant. All the book-keeping is done here at this station."
"How do you do, I am Marlow. I'm a riverboat captain for the Company. I believe I'll be lodging here for a day or two." The accountant could feel Marlow's eyes marvel at his clothing, his personal appearance and the general aura of respectable manliness he undoubtedly emanated.
"I'm just out for a breath of fresh air," the accountant sighed, and gazed into the distance in what he hoped was a philosophical pose. "Did I happen to see you feeding those savages down by the river?"
"Yeth, you did, ath a matter of fact. I jutht felt tho thorry for them. Poor thodth."
Gerald stared fixedly at Marlow. He had never heard such a pure, unadulterated lisp in all his life. He successfully held in a giggle, with only a quiet whistle escaping from his left nostril. "Yes, indeed. Well come, Sir, let's get you inside."
As it turned out Marlow stayed at the station for ten days, and became rather well-acquainted with the accountant, who did his best to keep Plebworth hidden. Gerald didn't believe Plebworth would be able to hide his reaction to the hilarity that was Marlow's lisp.
One day Marlow visited Gerald in his office, sitting on the floor and watched the immaculate accountant work. Flies buzzed around and seemed to target Marlow, if only to hear him yelp "thtupid flieth!" from time to time. Gerald sat high on his stool with what he hoped was an air of superior calmness.
Barbara lay back on the bed and beckoned Phillip to come to her. He teased her, as she pleaded for him to be inside her, and she felt a warm, tingling sensation tickle her stomach and make her nipples tingle...
Gerald sat straight up on his stool, and rubbed his hands with glee. The great climax to his collection of stories was upon him - the ménage a trois. He had been building up to it for quite some time, as could be seen by the vast catalogue of stories on his desk and shelves. He took an excitedly deep breath and continued.
Just as Phillip was about to give in to her pleads, he stopped. Someone had opened the door. Surely not Barbara's husband, who was not due home for hours? He turned and was delighted to see Barbara's young Swedish maid enter the room. She gasped, and began slowly peeling off her clothes, revealing, a young, supple -
"Pardon me, Thir, I know you're a buthy man, but may I athk a quethtion? I've been wondering, thinthe we firtht met, how do you manage to keep thuch a perfect appearanth in thith environment?" asked Marlow quizzically.
Gerald fumed. It was hard enough to work with the heat, and the flies and the dead niggers outside without this plonker asking silly questions. He managed to speak calmly, but could feel his face glow with a warm, potent fury: "I've been teaching one of the native women about the station. It was difficult. She had a distaste for the work. If you'll excuse, I must get on with my work." Marlow nodded knowingly, and returned to swatting at flies and shouting randomly. Gerald composed himself.
She gasped, and began slowly peeling off her clothes, revealing, a young, supple body, full of white skin and pureness...bollocks.
Gerald angrily thrust the sheet of paper to one side. That lisped irritation had completely thrown him off his train of thought. He growled silently. The grand finale - ruined. Thoughts of revenge filled Gerald's mind. He stared at the desk and spoke calmly and slowly: "In the interior you will no doubt meet Mr Kurtz."
"Mr Kurt-th?"
"He is a first-class agent...he is a very remarkable person."
"I thee...and what doeth he do?"
"He is currently in charge of a trading-post, a very important one, in the true ivory-country, at the very bottom of there. He sends in as much ivory as all the others put together." Gerald tried to speak mysteriously and with a sense of danger. Content with his effort, he went back to his work. You silly, stupid, naïve little bastard, he wrote.
A great commotion suddenly exploded outside, and Gerald lifted his head angrily at the arriving caravan. "What a frightful row. When one has got to make correct entries, one comes to hate those savages - hate them to the death," snarled the accountant, trying to sound ominous.
"When you see Mr Kurtz tell him from me that everything here is very satisfactory. I don't like to write to him - with those messengers of ours you never know who may get a hold of your letter - at that Central Station. Oh, he will go far, very far. He will be a somebody in the Administration before too long. They, above - the Council in Europe, you know - mean him to be."
Gerald faced his head back down to the desk to try and hide the grin that had spread across his face. Marlow slowly got up and left, but not before glancing back at the immaculate, straight-backed, pristine accountant at his work, making correct entry after correct entry. Gerald felt like he had earned Marlow's respect, but the feeling was not mutual. You stupid, foolish pillock, he wrote.
Almost immediately after Marlow left, Plebworth crashed out of the cupboard he'd been stuffed into, to hide. He coughed and rubbed dust from his clothes.
"Ah, Plebworth. You look dirty. Perhaps you should wash." Gerald never lifted his head from his work.
"Yes Sir, of course, Sir. Sir, can I ask who this Mr Kurtz is you spoke of?"
"Kurtz? He's a madman. Absolutely bonkers, I'll have you know. He lives with a bunch of savages who think he's their God. He'll probably kill that lisped Marlow. Here's hoping anyway. Extraordinarily annoying man. Plebworth, bring me a mirror. And wash yourself. Then get a pen and paper and prepare to write - I have a scenario I'd like to dictate." As Plebworth left, the accountant giggled to himself, and wiped a little dirt from the collar of his perfectly pressed shirt.
User Reviews
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-15 05:37:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
:)
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-15 05:30:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Ah. The handsome stranger, then ;o)
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-15 05:28:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No, doofus.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-15 05:26:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
That pic = +2s forever!
==================
The lego dude?
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-15 05:22:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
That pic = +2s forever!
Submitted by Littlebint (user info) at 2008-04-15 05:18:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:58:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You have made salty fluid run down my cheeks. :(
--
Lick it dont spit it.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-15 05:05:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Be careful not to get any in your hair. That's a bitch to pick out.
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-04-15 05:02:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
LMAO LOL ROFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:58:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You have made salty fluid run down my cheeks. :(
lol
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:52:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Sorry :) No retal?? Come on, give me one!
Submitted by Littlebint (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:37:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My blow jobs suck. Big time.
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:32:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
FUCKER.
Submitted by DreamWeaver (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:31:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I see you remember to drop your 2's on other peoples posts! Huh!
THWY!
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:28:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
FLIRT
|
|
|
V
Submitted by DreamWeaver (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:28:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You wouldn't get bored of my blowjobs, only, they wouldn't be enough.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:18:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Ah. That makes more sense than what I was thinking.
I loved your rant. It was as unfounded as it was exemplary.
You really think I would get bored of blowjobs? Unlikely.
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:17:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I didnt know that either. I always thought it was some Roland Rat tribute.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:14:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
What the fuck, I am not reading all that!
Haha!
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:14:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Hmm this hasn't been rated much. WHY!
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:05:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
What does 'WTFINRAT' mean? :(
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:00:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Orphelia, *that* is why I adore you.
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2008-04-15 02:53:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great rant Orphy. I was all set to put up the flip side to that monologue, but somethngs are too beautiful for even me to trample over.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-14 17:33:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I am going to be blunt with you here, FJ, I think all we have is the sex.
Quite clearly you are way above my intellectual level of 'pondlife', no matter how awesome a blowjob I give, or how often I let you penetrate me anally, when it all wears off and we come to the crunch point I will want to talk about lipgloss and the colour pink and you will want discussions or worse still, debates, on 'stuff' like this.
You will leave me for some bookish librarian or worse still, a coffee breathed, crochet wearing, poetry quoting English teacher. You will swap our wild passion for the mundane just to fill your desire to have stimulating conversation, mot hear the word 'like' hanging from every sentence uttered to you and attend book clubs (go for it by the way on that one).
Drinking red wine and lounging in the sitting room - no television, I ruined that for you with my love of soaps - you will sometimes reminisce about how I would let you pee on me after sex, only your raging boner will get no attention from your new love as she will be far too busy making vol-u-vents (assorted) in the kitchen as Ronnie and Sandra, the lesbian couple from two doors down are coming over for dinner.
I am not saying it is over, I am just saying.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-04-14 17:20:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WTFINRAT!
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-04-14 15:35:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
you're a strange duck.
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-04-14 12:36:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 because of the obvious effort you must have put into this, as well as the random picture of a lego guy at the end making me lol.
Submitted by Littlebint (user info) at 2008-04-14 11:54:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Just wondering, as I have noticed that you like writting about sex and stuff. Personally I tried to read a Mills and boon once and nearly died laughing after about the third reference to Heaving Boossoms.
I forgot to rate last time, oops
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-14 11:50:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Do you write for mills and Boon?
================
No. Should I?
Submitted by Littlebint (user info) at 2008-04-14 11:39:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Do you write for mills and Boon?
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2008-04-14 10:51:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
lol
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-14 10:45:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Slappers are good company in a time of self-doubt.
Uncle Buck is legendary. I hadn't seen it in years and I laughed so hard my jaw hurt afterwards :(
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2008-04-14 10:42:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Uncle Buck is an all time favourite movie of mine. I have no idea why, but it is!
No need for a slapper, he just dated one.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-14 10:30:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Ouch. I hope you got him a nice slapper to take his mind off things.
I had a lazy one: lifting weights, smoking doobies and I watched Uncle Buck. It was great.
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2008-04-14 10:28:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Crazy.
My brother had a crisis. His best friend slept with his girlfriend, so the contractor and I jumped on the bike and drove all the way to Devon (it hailed and rained the whole way) to go and offer moral support and get him drunk. The family turned out for a very odd and bizzar wake for him.
Every bit of me aches from the trip, but the look on everyones face when we rocked up was awesome.
How about yours?
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-14 10:06:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks LittleM.
The guy in the boat was for your benefit. How was your weekend?
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2008-04-14 09:56:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was great!
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2008-04-14 09:20:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-04-14 08:10:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Loved it, reminded me of that book Riotuous Assembly by wossname.
Needs more quad-barreled, magazine-fed, fully-automatic elephant gun though.
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2008-04-14 06:25:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Didn't read it. Pen_name enjoyed it.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2008-04-14 06:23:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Read it. Enjoyed it.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-14 06:18:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Well he doesn't have a stutter, he has a lisp. And in his opening line he doesn't have to negotiate any sibilants.
Submitted by orph (user info) at 2008-04-14 06:04:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellently entertaining, but why does Marlow not stutter in his opening line?