Find Me On:
The persistent melancholy that has clung to me all week led me to finally pick up and read The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis. “Why not?” I mused. “I’m in the right frame of mind for it.” For those of you who have not read it, it claims to be an account of Narnia’s final days. There are some lovely illustrations by Pauline Baynes such as this one:
and some racism. It is not a perfect work of art by any means (for so I have chosen to regard it, in the belief that the demise of a true, living world would be slightly more nuanced than what is presented here) but it does end rather beautifully. “Further up and further in!” Queen Lucy and King Edmund and all the others cry as they race without tiring to the furthest limits of the new country in which they find themselves, only to discover that it is not a new country at all but a larger, truer version of Narnia, and that there are an infinite number of Narnias beyond its borders, each one more real and vibrant than the one it encloses.
While I suspect that The Last Battle is perhaps the earliest known example of Fan Fiction masquerading as journalism in Spare Oom, that does not strip it of all its validity. While we are often forced to let go of people and places before we feel ready, that does not mean they are lost forever. Every new room, every new world we enter is informed by what we have left behind. Just as Aslan’s song brought Narnia into being long ago, every change, if we let it, can be a song of joy expanding into the future, a song in which all of our past worlds are lovingly encoded.
I believe that my experiences on Videogum Dot Com have made me a better person. “How can that be?” you are no doubt asking yourselves. “Is it possible for a Faun to be even more temperamental and strange?” “Yes,” I would meekly reply. Not a much better person, I should hasten to add, but very slightly better. And I honestly cannot think of any higher compliment to pay a website and a community than that. I find myself sorrowful, but also eager to explore the World of Greater Videogum opening before me. “Further up and further in!”
If a certain Monkey weren’t so uncomfortable expressing his feelings, and the affection he feels for a group of people he’s never met, I’m confident that he would agree with me.
I am rubber and you are glue…
I have updated my journal.
I was afraid that if I waited until tomorrow to post this here, when the atmosphere will be so thick with gloom we shall all be swimming in it, it would only remind you of the many times in the past when I have said this would be my last update. “How you could you say that?!” perhaps you would cry, maybe even going so far as to shake your fists at the portion of your screens inhabited by me. “Did you not understand how tenuous, how fleeting our safe haven would prove to be, you ridiculous Faun?”
“Of course not!” I would cry, probably cowering and raising my hands to ward off your righteous indignation. “I never would have made mention of even the slightest possibility of things coming to an end had I known! I cannot see into the future! I do not believe even Mr. Xavier can! And we are not on speaking terms even if he could!”
But your wrath would not be appeased, for it would be the last day of Videogum Dot Com, and gloom’s shroud would hide us from each other forever.
So I will post it today, and I will not suggest that it is the last entry in my journal. It contains a farewell of sorts but it is extremely lengthy (is that what she said? I am not sure…) so I will not hold it against you if you do not read it in its entirety. As always, I shall not know either way.
This place has been a light during some of my darkest hours. I shall miss you all. Lead merry lives, and make every day a jig of your own devising.
“Dry your eyes, child. Aslan came back to life! Wait, what was the cause of your sorrow again?”
I am convinced that after they were routed, the remnants of the White Witch’s army went into hiding at the A.V. Club. I’d very much like to know how they found their way there from Narnia, but I have been too timid to ask.
In the midst of my sorrow, at least I am glad that I chose to peruse the comment section before adding my own two pence for had I not, I fear I would have Mrs. Darko’ed the above comment. Excrement indeed, Mr. carb. Excrement indeed.
Tea Time with Tumnus!
The Chronicles of Narnia: The Viewing of the Gown Tripper
“If I remain upon this wheeled board long enough, perhaps the Aslan of Spare Oom will take the hint and grace my lower half with a set of permanent wheels, for I read in a fashionable magazine that Hybrids are very ‘In’ at the moment. And if I doubted the truths disseminated by fashionable magazines, wouldn’t their assertions that I am ‘Sexy’ become so much formless gas? No, I shall continue upon my current course for I am Zac Efron, Future Patriarch of the Wheeled Humans! One must believe!” – Mr. Efron
The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion (A+), the Witch (F) and the Wardrobe (C+)
I have found the experience of soullessness to be quite liberating. If it were one of the denizens of Videogum Dot Com, I would most assuredly give it an upward thumb. I doubt that I shall seek out this cinematic, for fear that when its soul destroying powers are directed against one who is already empty of content, the subject in question could be sucked into the ensuing Void, but if you are indeed considering the carefree lifestyle of the soulless, Mr. hotspur, you should take advantage of this potential short cut, as the path of meditation is rather inconvenient. Om.
By now, my friends, you must all think me the incarnation of the boy who continued to cry “Wolves!” despite a pronounced lack of Wolves in the vicinity, but if you remember the Human tale to which I’m referring, one day, as it happened, there were in fact Wolves! This is that day, and those who are curious can read about it in the final entry of my Public Journal.
Have a merry Thanksgiving!
Dear me, that chunk of flaming stone nearly took my head clean off! A close shave indeed. (Also, I do not wish to embarrass you, Mr. Spiderfire-Monk, but I believe there is a typographical error in your comment.)
My dear friends, I find myself conflicted. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe it possible that I might gain entry into your Monsters’ Gala. No, I have been content to linger outside in the snow, my ears tuned to catch whatever scraps of conversation and music happened to fall from the brilliant windows above, drinking shampayn from an imaginary glass. But now-! I find my stomach recoiling from the mere idea of more intangible shampayn. I fear I cannot go back.
I have never been a competitive Fau- I mean, Human afflicted with a Palsy of the Cerebrum, particularly when I cannot fathom the rules of the game, as is the case with the sport of Upward Thumbs being played here. But I feel a hunger driving me onward and upward. I find this type of disproportionate ambition most indecorous and demeaning but in this instance I lack the will to resist it.
So, in that reluctant spirit, I have chose to assume a new identity on Videogum Dot Com. Since you so enjoyed the manner in which I brought to life the tragic plight of Miss Lawrence’s mints, henceforth I shall be posting my comments and reflections in the character of “mints.” Please do not refer to me as Mr. Tumnus when I am in this guise; it will only weaken the spell I am attempting to weave, thus lessening the number of upward thumbs I receive. As I have seen it quoted several times, the Internet is serious business.
Farewell, my friends. Please join me in welcoming to the stage… mints!
What might have been, if only I were a Nazi….
“We are free! The long winter of our entrapment is at an end,” think the mints. “Alas, our doom is that we carry within us a winter from which there is no escape, the Winter Freshness of our nature.” As one, they consider the approaching floor upon which they will scatter. Soon the tenuous bonds of consciousness allowing them these last few moments of introspection will be broken forever. “As mints we were born and as mints we shall be crushed underfoot. O, the world is a vampire in winter!”
Ahhh, now I understand. Many thanks.
My day was exceptional. Unfortunately, to present it in a context that could be understood required more words than this forum allows. And so, as has become my custom, I direct you to click on the link below. If you happen to find my affairs tedious (which would be entirely understandable), I suggest that you avoid the link below as if it contained a spell of petrification. The tale is lengthy even by my previously established standards of verbosity.
I strongly suspect that this shall be the last entry in my Public Journal. As Mr. Jagger so eloquently put it, “You cannot always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, perhaps you will find something that feeds your deeper needs.” I have found the second thing and I intend to hold on to it. My journey through Spare Oom is at an end. Thank you very much for your kind indulgence.
Just checking in, my friends, in the hope that it will waylay any potential fretting on my behalf. My lower portion remains un-sucked-upon by this sad creature. Although if I did encounter him in the wilds, I suspect that I would be more inclined to share at least a teacup of blood with him than to flee. Then he would be bound to me as my boon companion and together we would get into all manner of scrapes and hijinxes. I would name him Pharrell. I do enjoy that song “Get Lucky” by the Daft Punks. What could possibly be concealed beneath their helmets? Something wondrous, or terrible?
Ah, these are nothing but idle daydreams. I am nowhere near Mississippi.
All this Daughter of Eve lacks is a cage in the shape of a Hash Tag over her head, a travelling trampoline to facilitate the occasional accident, and a belt of up-popping Advertisements orbiting her midriff like a Hooligan’s Hoop for this Internymph costume to be truly complete.
The Chronicles of Scarenia: Prince Frightened-Gaspian.
The Chronicles of Scarenia: The Voyage of the Damned Treader.
Alas, Tucker and Dale did not defeat evil and that fact haunts me still. They wanted to and they were up to the task but Coincidence conspired against them. That and their manner of speaking. Focus on the words, Sons and Daughters of Spare Oom! The manner in which the words are put forth is naught but distraction.
This is awkward, I do not wish to pick at nits, but I believe your genealogy is erroneous. If memory serves, Queen Excrementa was the first-born daughter of King Olvin and Lady Liln, and the successor to the throne of Archenland. Records from that time are sparse indeed but I once possessed a copy of “Observing the Archenland Royals Through a Lens Warped by the Passage of Ages” by Archyvion Mefforio and I do not recall any mention of a King Midas.
Oh. You were speaking in jest. Now I see what you did there.
Your name brings to life a drama within my mind and then fails to resolve it. I suspect that I shall be visiting a very strange karaoke contest in my dreams tonight.