Because it does not Do the Police in Different Voices.
At which point I am beset by strange visions of a toga-clad A.E.Housman
fainting in the arms of a burly village constable to the accompaniment of a
slurred and geological disaster voice-over by an amphetamine-high
crease-face Auden, allegro molto, ('CUT' shouts the Director) while
F.R.Leavis marches off with a Shropshire Lad to meet the Great Tradition in
the trenches, 'Q' enthuses over his bristles, loudly to the waves, Peter
Forbes steals James Frazer's armchair at the club and an unobserved Edwin
Morgan orbits faintly among the satellites and debri to come.
Stretterbawl! It must be getting late.
david
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