Thursday, February the 26th, 2004
back to: title, date or indexes
Joost Van Dongelbracke, the Suburban Shaman, was, as we have learned (see 24th February), once employed as a janitor. He lived an obscure and—arguably—blameless life. Ever cantankerous, he often found himself at odds with the head of the Fireworks Factory, whose official title, at the initiative of the Human Resources department, was Gubernator. Van Dongelbracke, however, was merely a janitor. He spent many long hours in his shed, poring over nautical charts and beetle diagrams, plotting his future. Who could have guessed that the actuality would be even more preposterous than his dreams? And his daydreams were fervid, to say the least, hence his frequent run-ins with the Gubernator, who expected, not unreasonably, to see janitorial tasks completed. Rather than sweeping a corridor or emptying wastepaper bins, however, Van Dongelbracke was more likely to be found intoning “Head… thorax… abdomen” in a voice like a rasp, as a kettle boiled away for his umpteenth flask of tea and the candles in his shed sputtered and smoked. So far, so uneventful, regardless of the Gubernator's irritation. It was the morning Van Dongelbracke arrived at work having dyed his head blue that things began to change.
Note : It is quite clear that the above paragraph offers neither jot nor tittle of information about the events we have suggested could be called—retrospectively—Van Dongelbrackegate. Please accept the editor's profuse apologies. Either that or go and dye your head blue.
