The fall of Gabby and rise of Hope Sunshine was prequelled in Reginald Perrin and the death of John Stonehouse. Fortunately, no neatly piled clothes have been found on the beach, We will have to hold a seance to find Gabby. I'll ask Allan to provide the coffee and bring the angel cake myself. The angel cake will conjure paradise lost or Proust's aunt if we are unlucky. It is surely self-evident that Gabby can only be found in a paradise, and that this is likely lost and buried for equally self-evident reasons. Self-evidence has a rather elegant circularity, rather like there are thoughts so what is thinking them, if anything, but why would there be thoughts without something thinking. Self-evidentally solved by RP making god unconscious or Allan's soul assumptions and deconstructive repetition of sig line Gabby loved so much she could never stop talking about them, forgetting her own advice on listening time.
Now we have Hope Sunshine, reminiscent of the Barbara Hershy film 'Breezy', some aged old geezer's fantasy about picking up a fancy-free young hitch-hiker devoid of ageist discriminatory pretensions and redolent with the idea old men should get out driving more. Hope herself, as Tony has pointed out, with a name like Hope Sunshine, is likely too bust surfing in Berlin, to be bothered to find Gabby. So it's going to have to be angel cake sniffing, to find the paradise lost and buried. I don't recommend reading up on Proust's method beforehand as none of us might wake up from the experience. The wrong kind of Thiedium for the search for Ms Thiede. I understand those who may think 'good riddance' - as Hope herself has implied, though surely a maiden as fair as this would not leave another to the vagueries of the seamy side of Berlin's tenderloin. Holmes is now convinced Gabby is being held there, after a few pipes at Chin Ho's. He mumbled something about a world without Gabby being paradise - lost without her translation and syntactic skills. The angel cake will take us back to those temps perdu when Gabby was lost, or at least to tea and cakes with Proust's aunt. We owe at least this to our new friend Hope Sunshine, as it is hardly appropriate to be talking so much of Gabby in the presence of a new age throwback to the American 60's, much as she has Tony's surf up. I intend to document the investigation, as accurately as above, in the form of a Scandinavian noir - a sort of Wallbangerender. This will take a few weeks, so it will be convenient if Gabby remains buried for the foreseeable future, so as not to spoil the ending. This will be a time of deep, sincere sorrow, at least as all might be encouraged to imagine. Hope, no doubt, will be a comfort to us all through this and the sordid tale I will have to tell to obtain publisher support. Should Gabbs return, like Manon de Sources to dep.rive us all of water, she may have to use another name for a while to disguise herself until after publication. Holmes believes she has done this several times before and her real name is Irene Adler. He expects to resolve the case with a few more tugs on the paradise pipe. Meanwhile, I shall return undercover In Berlin's underlife ... And as our quiet old friend-rejector-friend would have put it - WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT IT? -- --- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups ""Minds Eye"" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.
