[thebigjewel] Tsk of the D'Urbervilles - January 22, 2003
- From: "The Big Jewel" <list@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: thebigjewel@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Wed, 22 Jan 2003 06:44:42 -0700 (MST)
Tsk Of The D'Urbervilles
By Kurt Luchs
In the bright, grassy Midlands of England rises the slightly fictional
county of Wesson -- a dark ink spot of tragedy among the happily blank
pages that surround it. The air is heavier there, oppressive with the sense
of eternal sadness and inescapable gloom. The sun does not shine on Wesson,
for it has been banned by municipal decree. Neither flowers nor any other
living things will bloom there, and the plowmen who homeward plod their
weary way raise only Druidic stones from their cursed ash-gray fields.
These stones their bony wives bake into a rough black bread very good for
the soul but very bad for the teeth. Even this hard fare is thought too
kingly by some of the sterner natives, who would rather suck an ice cube
than eat a pagan meal. The inhabitants of Wesson know it is no use. They
have given up.
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