“Bring the letter!”

Three Blue Tits dropped the letter to the peacock who creakingly delivered it.

“Dear John…" or as you are more cutomarily addressed:

Sir -

From the topmost brightly joyfull gilded dawn, when attended to by my progenitors, I first put down roots in the long exhaulted terra firma of these most unsurpassedly and remarkably green and pleasent of isles (being at the time a mere sapling in a most formative phase of my existence, having previously trodden only the dust of a multitude of African dominions - British colonies and otherwise) I have always stood firmly in the service of this other Eden, contorting myself grossly and forcefully - back and forth at the slightest of breezes, into those most disagreeable and painful of angles so infortuitously advantageous to the best interests of this fine country.

Though intitially very green, without fear nor favour, it may fairly be said that I have grafted hard, with Herculean, not to say Sisyphean efforts, and have achieved great branching success unrivaled among the lesser insects of that wicked and adulterous generation, in which Providence with its boundless prudence which I would not ever presume to question, has looked upon as being equal to bearing the challenge of accommodating amongst it myself as an incongruence most striking and most struck .

But however from that moment whence I first arrived into the arms of this island fortress inspike of the fruits of my labours, I was cruelly and mercilessly subjected to a river, a torrent, a raging Niagra of undeserved slander, abuse and unfair discrimination, propogated by the illegitimate seed of Albion.

Furthermore, in the course of my varied and successful endeavors, I have felt the thorns of, and caught with my own eyes, my own ears, and my own senses a glimpse of the poisoned, hollow heart that beats beneath that most full armoured bousum of Fair Brittainia. I watched rending my clothes in unfathomable despair as from unassuming acorns emerged vines of malice and from unassuming thread webs of corruption engulfing the mighty kingdoms of Brutus, O'Niel, and Magnus Maximus. I screamed and bark-ed internally and eternally in vain as I witnessed root and branch abuses of power, tiresome in their ill-gotten normality, banality and frequency.

As a direct consequence of my whispering protest, read from the rings around my forehead, I was forced into the heinous trangression of formulating false testimony which caused me to be felled from my lofty position and lose my worldly wealth, security and reputation, what was infinitely worse, I was stripped to the cuticle and humiliated before the merciless eyes of the vulgaris. Only some seasons later was I completely exonerated of the charges of this ill-conceived hatchet job, but too late.

Therefore antibaucianally I write this letter to publicly log that I hereby and immediately wave farewell to this fair but perfidious country and all of it's tendrils and shall nevermore use it's hybrid invasive Barbarian patois, which I despise to my very core.

For now and forever, all the questions this singularly unimaginative planet should have for me (though I somehow don't beleave that they should prove innumerable), will be answered primarily in a new language dictated from the lower heavens, taken from a time in the future by a great Northumbrian woodland hermit whose greatness was prematurely extinguished before he was able to alter the compromised state of terrestrial existence.

tenpo pini la mi pali lon tomo nasa… lon tomo mani, lon kulupu lawa utala nampa tu tu tu, lon tomo nampa luka luka. tan ni la sina lukin e ni; mi toki and nasa ala!

tan ni la sina lukin e ni; mi toki e nasa ala!“"


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