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FDV: "by the binomial the and the penic law and the inklespill legends and the rune of the hoop and the lesson of expedience and the judicats of Puncher's Pylax."

FDV2: "after the binomial dioram and the penic walls and the inklespill legends and the rune of the hoop and the lessons of expedience and the judycats of Puncher's Pylax."

mysteries:



[05:39-07:32]

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FDV: "how a 'cloak you are. —My building space is always to let to men, replied the Mookse. My side is safe as houses I see what it is to be seen. Paris belongs to he who praises himself. I can prove it against you. I bet you a dozen of tomes. He proved it by Neuclid, by Inexagoras, by Mummsen, by Thumpsun, by Orasmus, and by O. Hone and after that he reproved it altogether"

FDV2: "whose a 'cloak you are. —My building space is always to let to men, concluded the Mookse. My side is as safe as houses and I see what it is to be seen. Parysis belongs to him who parises himself. I can prove it against you, my good enemy. I bet you this dozen of tomes. He proved it by Neuclid, by Inexagoras, by Mummsen, by Thumpson, by Orasmus, and by O. Hone and after that he reproved it altogether"

mysteries:



[03:39-05:40]

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[see chapters 1-4 for more-fleshed-out annotations]






FDV: "I am blessed to see you, my dear mister. Will you not perhaps tell me everything, if you are pleased, sir? —Blast yourself roared the Mookse and the mice quailed to hear him at all for you cannot make a silken noise out of a hoarse oar. No, hang you! I am superbly in my health. Rot! —I am till infinity obliged with you, said the Gripes. I am having a watch on all my extremities. By the watch, what is the time? —Quote awhore! replied the Mookse. It is just about what I came for. Let there be orlog. Let here be Irene. Let you be Beeton. And let me be Los Angelos. Well, sour, do you give it up? —I wd never give you up, replied the Gripes with the nethermost despair. My temple is my own. But I can never tell you"

FDV2: "laughed at his voice for they knew their sly toad lowry well. I am blessed to see you, my dear mister. Will you not perhopes tell me everything, if you are pleased, sanity? —Rats! roared the Mookse and the mice quailed to hear him at all for you cannot wake a silken noise out of a hoarse oar. Blast yourself! No, hang you! I am superbly in my supreme poncif. Rot! —I am till infinity obliged with you, said the Gripes. I am still always having a watch wish on all my extremities. By the watch, what is the time, pace? —Ask my index! Quote awhore! replied the Mookse in highest of humour rapidly becoming clement urban & celestinal. It is quite about what I came for. Let there be orlog. Let here be Irene. Let you be Beeton. And let me be Los Angelos. Well, sour, do you give you up? —I can never give you up, replied the Gripes with his nethermost wanhope. My temple is my own. But I hear I can rarely tell you"

mysteries:



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FDV: "wrong lane he met the Grapes {he came upon a little river. It was little and it was brown and it was narrow and it was shallow. And as it ran it dribbled. My, my, my! Me, me, me! Little brown dream don't I love me?} The Grapes was fit to be dried for why had he not been having the juice of his time? His pips had been nearly all drowned on him, his polps were charging odours every older minute, he was for getting the dresser's designs into the flypape of his frons and he was quickly forgiving the bailiff's distrain on the balkside of his cul de pompe. In all his specious heavings, as he lived by Optimus Maximus, the moose had never seen {such a scapegrapes} his brooder so near a pickle. "Woe, He stood before the Grapes and looked all up aurignacian in his outfit. "Fie, sour!" said he to the scapegrapes "Have you not a shambleful. Our Father He saw a stone and on that stone he sate his seat and with his unfallable upon his in and his fresherman's trop blague he was the laical likenesses of Leo of the Faultyfinth. —How do you do it, Mr [...] Mookse? cheeped the Gripes"

FDV2: "wrong lane he came upon a stream. It was little and it was brown and it was narrow and it was shallow. And as it ran it dribbled like any-lively purl-it-easy. My, my, my! Me, me, me! Little brown dream don't I love me? And, I declare! Who was there on the yonder side of the stream, parched on the a limb of the olum but the Grapes. no doubt he was fit to be dried for why had he not been having the juice of his time? His pips had been nearly all drowned on him, his polps were charging odours every older minute, he was quickly for getting the dresser's designs on the flypage of his frons and he was quickly for giving the bailiff's distrain on the balkside of his cul de pompe. In all his specious heavings, as he lived by Optimus Maximus, the moose had never seen his brooder so near a pickle. He stood before the Grapes all in an outfit of Aurignacian. "Fie, sour!" said he to the scapegrapes "Have you not a shambleful. Our Father He sor a stone and on that stone he sate his seat like where {which} it filled to the full {fullest} justotoryum and whereupon with his unfallable upon his alloilable and the pederect he walked with his fresherman's blague Bellua Triumphans he looked the last laical likenesses of Quartus V Quintus the Sixth taking {giving} allnight sittings to Leo of the Faultyfinth. —Good appetite How do you do it, Sir Mookse? cheeped the Gripes in a wherry whiggy voice and the jackasses"

mysteries:



[08:26-08:55]
[00:00-01:33]

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FDV: "While, for ought I care for the contrary?, the all is where as love in war and where my art was you'd aisy run a thunder from and where I cling 'tis there I climb and where Innocent looks best there is holly in his ives. As my explanations are probably above your understandings I shall revert to a method which I frequently use with muddleclass pupils. Imagine for my purpose that you are a squad of urchins, snifflynosed, gandernecked, clothaired, tingled in your pants etc etc. And you, Jones, take your tongue out of your inkpot! As none of you know javanese I will give you a free translation of an old fibulist. The Moose and the Grapes A moose he would a walking go so he put on his impermeable and stepped out of his immoble and set off to see how badness in the west of all possible words. He had not made but a few parsecs when at the dirty of a wrong lane he met the Grapes."

FDV2: "While, while ought I care for the contrary?, the all is where in love as war and the place plane where me arts were soar you'd aisy rouse a thunder from and where I clingtrue 'tis there I climb tree and where Innocent looks best (pick!) there's holly in his ives. As my explanations here are probably above your understandings I shall revert to a method which I frequently use with muddleclass pupils. Imagine for my purpose that you are a squad of urchins, snifflynosed, goslingnecked, clottyheaded, tingled in your pants etc etc. And you, Smith, take your tongue out of your inkpot! As none of you know javanese I will give you a free translation of the old fibulist. The Moose and the Gripes A moose he would a walking go so he drubbed his eyes, ascented his nose, packed up his ears put on his impermeable and stepped out of his immoble and set off to see how badness in the waste of all parsable words. He had not made but a few parsecs when at the dirty of a wrong lane he came upon a stream."

mysteries:



[06:20-08:27]

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FDV: "I can easily believe in my own most spacious modality when I am quite assured that the cubes of my volumes are to the surfaces of their subjects as the sphericity of the globe is to the feracity of Fairynelly's vacuum. I need not antropologise for downtrodding on my foes, Professor Levis Brueller finds, because the number of square faiths in circulation will not be appreciably augmended by the netherslogging of a couple of clods. What the romantic in rags pines after & what he importunes our Mitleid for is a waste of time. His everpresent toes are always far out through his past boots. Hear him squeak! When Mullocky won the couple of bob. When we stripped in number three I will drink the neat drop that would malt in my mouth but I cannot see when. (I am purposing refraining from exposing the obvious fallacy as to the specific gravity of the two liquids implied. Students of mixed hydrostatics will after some difficulty grapple with my meanings) But, on Professor Levis Brueller's showing, the plea is all posh and rabbage since his man's when is an other man's quandom."

FDV2: "I can easily believe heartily in my own most spacious immensity of my ownhouse & microbemost cosm when I am quite reassured that the cubes of my volumes are to the surfaces of their subjects as the sphericity of these globes is to the feracity of Fairynelly's vacuum. I need not antropologise for downtrodding on my foes, Professor Levis Brueller finds, because the number of squeer faiths in weakly circulation will not be appreciably augmended by the netherslogging of my cupolar clods. What the romantic in rags pines after & what he importunes our Mitleid for is a waste of time. His everpresent toes are always out through his past boots. Hear him squeak! When Mullocky won the couple of bob. When we were stripping in number three I would like the neat drop that would malt in my mouth but I cannot see when. (I am purposing refraining from exposing the obvious fallacy as to the specific gravities of the two lickquids implied. Students of mixed hydrostatics & pneumodipsics will after some difficulty grapple away with my meanings) But, on Professor Levis Brueller's showing, the plea is all posh and rabbage on a melodeontic scale since his man's when is no other man's quandom."

mysteries:



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FDV: "Or a ladyeater may have perhaps casualised to you a la sourdine: is Talis and Talis, who is on at the Craterium the same as Talis and Talis, the penswiper, no fank you! runs his duly mile? Or this is a perhaps better example. At a recent postvortex examination of a determined case of spinosism, an extension lecturer asked the question: Why is this Suchman talis qualis: and Dr. Gedankje toarsely: While you are a son of a whorl!
Professor Levis in his (though, as I shall shortly prove, his whole account of the Sennacherib affair and the introduction of the Mr. Shekely and Dr. Hyde problem is again hopelessly vitiated by what I shall now call the cash diamond and cash-diamond fallacy) — his talked off confession Why Am I not a Gentilman? (Feigenbaumblatt and Father, Judapest) wholeheartedly takes off his coat and wig, honest fellow, to show us how the inception and the descent and the ends of man is wrapped in obscenity. Looking through these accidents through the farscope of television"

FDV2: "Or a ladyeater may have perhaps casualised to you as you temptoed her a la sourdine: Of you plates? Is Talis and Talis, the swordswallower, who is on at the Craterium the same Talis and Talis, the pencrusher, no funk you! who runs his duly mile? Or this is a perhaps better example. At a recent postvortex piece-examination of a determined case of spinosism, an extension lecturer on the Hague Ague who was trying seesers Dr 'sHet Ubeleeft asked the question: Why is which Suchman talis qualis: to whom Dr. Gedankje of Stoutgirth who was wiping his whistle toarsely returted: While though beast a zoom of a whorl!
Professor Levis in his (though, as I shall promptly prove, his whole account of the Sennacherib affair and the introduction of the Mr. Shekely and Dr. Hyde problem differs soto coelo from mine again hopelessly vitiated by what I shall now call the diamond and cash-diamond fallacy) — his talked off confession Why Am I not Born Like a Gentilman? (Feigenbaumblatt and Father, Judapest) wholeheartedly takes off his coat and wig, honest fellow, to make us see how as he says 'by Allswill the inception and the descent and the endswell of man is temporarily wrapped in obscenity. Looking at these accidents through the faroscope of television (this nightlife instrument needs still some subtractional betterment in the adjustment of the refrangibility angle to the squeals of the hypothesis on the outer tinsides)"

mysteries:



[02:10-04:14]

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