Alfred 13.ev ¤ 1

The Nomedian Encyclopedia : I'm blurbless ! by W. A.1

Last month was released upon the public the so-called Nomedian Encyclopedia, a huge compendium of divers documents, all dealing in this much controversial issue : the Misplaced Continent. Little did I know that, by opening this 700-pages book - complete with maps, drawings, pictures, etc. - I was to feel ashamed of my ignorance as I have not felt ashamed since I was 16 years-old, when a girl in a pub slapped my face because my rucksack had inadvertantly brushed her ample breast. Figure then that in the teeth of our educational system and our broadcast networks and our newspapers and our two serious publishers, we poor people of America have never heard before of the Nomedian Continent. All along the pages - whether in the shape of a scientific paper or a piece of fiction or an alleged diary - Professor Batayon and his ilk keep pretending that Nomedia has almost always been where they say it is : in the (not quite) middle of the Pacific ocean. And they might add : if you are not aware of that, well you're the ones to blame, we can't help it, and serves you well. As a consequence of their assertions, one feels quickly drawn (or should I say drowned?) into a frame of thoughts leaving room to no bits of imagination whatever. That is, to what I call imagination, which has nothing to do with fantasy (not mentioning hollywoodian movies - Freud forgive me !) 1 The author of this column asked us to remove his name from the present edition. He admits though to be described as a handsome former redheaded film director and clarinettist from New York, hoping thus that nobody will mistake him for Billy Cristal.

Alfred 13.ev ¤ 2

For what bothers me a lot is that this work of them be sold as non-fiction, as you will find it available in all best bookshops... in the geography section. Which leads me to ask the one serious question : who are then these contributors to the Nomedian Encyclopedia ? Fear you not, o sweet readers, for I have no intention whatsoever to describe them thoroughly in this column. Know then that they all pretend to be one of two stuffs : whether they are scientists working on a nomedian case, or they have been there (or close to it) and they must report their finds to us - us, the underfed of this world "withoutnomedia". The truth is : none of them offers a single evidence for their misfit theories2. I do not have here the time and space to review them all - and believe me, there are a dime a dozen - but suffice it to say that Professors Batayon and Andorra-Veidt's research are beyond any suspicion, as soon as you long to be beguiled. To give but one instance, the paper dealing with nomedian languages has been written in an assertive general tone that prevents (nay, forcloses) any critical attitude from the reader. I'm not talking here of mere suspended belief - abducted bigotry fits better. Because, whatever they say and won't say, Professors Batayon and Andorra-Veidt are missing one critical issue : the language they are dealing with is not nomedian. And I should know about it, because I am a Nomedian myself.

I know, I know... Perhaps this column is not the right place to make my coming-out. Particularly as my foster parents will be reading it at the same moment everyone in America is. Believe me when I say I resent that. But what am I to do ? Now that these two splendid cretins have spilled the beans to the whole world, I might as well confess : 2 Or should I say "theories for the misfits"?

Alfred 13.ev ¤ 3

yes, I am a Nomedian, and your civilization, o my sweet western readers - and the eastern ones as well - stinks. Do you know what is the nomedian word for money ? Kloor, which means face-crime. Do you know what is the nomedian word for work ? Dakiriki, meaning the-annoyingconstant-buzz-of-the-mosquito-at-night. You want to know more ? Religion is zazupin , meaning too-much-shared-and-expanded-paranoia. Government is pakane tipulak, meaning those-who-want-a-hole-in-the-head-right-now. Marriage is stacanomildia : I'mbound-to-wake-up-soon-or-I'll-die-in-my-slumber. And fast-food is pooh , which I really don't need to translate. In my next columns, I will tell you how I was abducted, age 18, by merciless pirates, then how I learned about my true blood. And now that, surely, all nomedians in the same position are bound to expose themselves in a very near future, I hereby declare this column to become a regular space devoted to nomedian lessons in language, culture, history and the like. Oh, and cuisine too, because you have a loöot to learn. Thank you for your understanding. Hope I won't be murdered by some liberal fanatic on a rampage. Sorry, Mum and Dad, but it had to be said.

W. A.