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WOSSNAME -- NOVEMBER 2006 -- PART 2 OF 5

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  • JSCHAUM111@aol.com
    WOSSNAME -- NOVEMBER 2006 -- PART 2 OF 5 ... oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo 11) DIBBLER MUSINGS PIE IS A CONSTANT, EVEN WHEN YOU SPELL
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 1, 2006
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      WOSSNAME -- NOVEMBER 2006 -- PART 2 OF 5
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      oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

      11) DIBBLER MUSINGS

      PIE IS A CONSTANT, EVEN WHEN YOU
      SPELL IT WITH THREE LETTERS:
      The Universality of C.M.O.T. Dibbler

      by Annie Mac

      There is always a Dibbler, and Dibbler is always there.

      No, really.

      I was going to say that no, I'm not suggesting that Dibbler is a
      divine presence, but after a rethink I'm coming to the conclusion
      that Dibbler may indeed be a sort of Small God: the god of all who`
      endeavour to commit hopeful dodgy commerce on street corners and at
      markets, at fairs and festivals, even in those sad, dingy shopfronts
      that once housed a legitimate business and now serve as temporary
      quarters for every passing SALE! NOW GOING OUT OF BUSINESS!! TWO
      WEEKS ONLY!!! PRICES YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE!!!! mini-entrepreneur who
      ever felt the need to pray for a quick sale...a *very* quick sale,
      so the seller can be long gone by the time the customer realises
      just how shoddy those goods are. Yes - Dibbler, the Small God of
      bad goods. It has a certain ring to it.

      But be that as it may, I'm here to talk about the more pedestrian
      presence of Dibbler, and how a Dibbler is always a Dibbler no
      matter where he comes from or what dialect he speaks. Whenever we
      encounter a Dibbler in the Discworld books, we know exactly what
      he's going to be; in fact, we know he's a Dibbler *before* he even
      speaks. There's something eternally familiar in that shifty sidle,
      and of course the smells of less than savoury foods is a dead
      giveaway. So far, we've met Dibbler doppelgangers (Dibblergangers?)
      in countries all around the Disc. The list of known canonical
      Dibblers includes:

      C.M.O.T. Dibbler (possibly the original; certainly the Named Meat
      of the Dibblerverse)
      Cut-Me-Own-Hand-Off Dblah
      Disembowel-Meself-Honourably Dibhala
      Al-Jiblah
      May-I-Never-Achieve-Enlightenment Dhiblang
      Dib Diblossonson
      May-I-Be-Kicked-In-My-Own-Ice-Hole Dibooki
      Swallow-Me-Own-Blowdart Dlang-Dlang
      Fair Go Dibbler

      ...and this is by no means a complete list, we can be sure. Dibbler
      is an archetype - a somatype, as The Discworld Companion would have
      it - a universal, nay, multiversal presence. Wherever you wander, in
      whatever fictional, fantastical alternate reality that has evolved
      life-forms who eat and conduct commerce, Dibbler will be there. And
      we don't need to see him or even be openly reminded of his presence
      to know he's lurking in the corner with his tray of edible, well,
      *theoretically* edible local delicacies. We know deep in our hearts
      that when the Hobbit Companions stopped for a pint at Bree, there
      was a Dibbler hanging around by the Prancing Pony selling hot snacks
      (and contraband pipeweed, and perhaps a fake palantir or two...and
      can't you just see Samwise rolling his eyes at the dreadful quality
      of the Dibbler cuisine?). We know without having to think about it
      that there was a Dibbler peddling unsavoury sweetmeats at King
      Arthur's jousting tournaments, and a Dibbler flogging dreadful crab
      cakes at whatever harbour Captain Hook sailed into, and a Dibbler
      waiting by the side of the Yellow Brick Road. And Mos Eisley, that
      fabled "hive of scum and villainy"? - why, every spacemen's bar has
      a Dibbler of its own, wheedling a sales pitch for his week-old
      Huttese thousand-year eggs. We never need to see him because he's
      always there.

      And yet...it seems that so many of us *do* choose to see him, even
      when the Master sees no need to mention Dibbler in any particular
      new Discworld novel. Even the most casual of Discworld readers will
      recognise, and warmly mention, the character of Dibbler. Perhaps
      it's because we know his type so well! Like Del Boy Trotter of the
      enduring comedy series Only Fools and Horses, like Minder's Arfur
      Daley, he's one of those characters we love to watch in action, so
      long as the action isn't taking place too close to us. He's a con
      man but he's a gentle con man whose fraudulent activities never tip
      over the line into genuinely wicked crimes. We may chuckle at
      Reacher Gilt's open advertising of what he is, but we hoped all the
      way that he would reach a nasty end. Dibbler, on the other hand,
      may be doing his best to flog substandard merchandise, but he's not
      trying to take over the world or darken our lives beyond the
      occasional run for the privy after an unnamed-meat pie...and there's
      something oddly endearing about that.

      NOTE: I'm quite sure - like, in my water - that there are other
      canonical Dibblers. If any readers out there can add to the above
      list, thereby saving me the pleasurable but time-consuming duty of
      re-reading a number of later DW novels whilst desperately seeking
      Dibblers, don't forget to write!
      oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

      12) SONGS OF THE MONTH

      Hi beloved listeners,

      Sorry I couldn't get last month's song to you,
      due to a crackdown by the local Watch, but
      I have managed to square things with them
      and not only am I sending you the missing
      song, but I've included another one for the
      current month. And here they are:
      ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

      HAZE OF OCTARINE
      by Weird Alice Lancrevic
      (with apologies to the Beatles)

      On the Disc where I was born
      Lived a wizard, robed and keen
      Who was known to live his life
      In a haze of octarine

      So he sailed around the moon
      Safe in Leonard's space machine**
      'Til he crashed beneath the Rim
      In a haze of octarine

      CHORUS:
      We all live in a haze of octarine
      A haze of octarine, haze of octarine
      We all live in a haze of octarine
      A haze of octarine, haze of octarine

      Dwarfs and trolls are playing Thud
      Interspecies war: free of blood!
      And the Band With Rocks In plays:

      [dear filkers, insert two bars of cacophony here!]

      We all live in a haze of octarine
      A haze of octarine, haze of octarine
      We all live in a haze of octarine
      A haze of octarine, haze of octarine

      As we live a life enthaum'd
      From the Gods and kings to Foul Ole Ron (to Foul Ole Ron!)
      Wizards fat (wizards fat!) to witches lean (witches lean!)
      In our haze of octarine

      We all live in a haze of octarine
      A haze of octarine, haze of octarine
      We all live in a haze of octarine
      A haze of octarine, haze of octarine...

      (Repeat and keep drinking until falling over occurs)

      ** I know that Leonard doesn't call it anything that simple,
      but otherwise it wouldn't fit the rhythm of the song!
      oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

      PRIVET DANCER
      (with apologies to Tina Turner)
      by Weird Alice Lancrevic

      All the folk come to my forest
      Their requests are never grand
      They know that I'm the poorest
      Hedge wizard in the land

      Mostly, customers are human
      Now and then, a dwarf or troll
      I put my show on to please 'em
      Keeping myself off the dole

      I'm your privet dancer, a dancer for magic
      Brew any potion for you
      I'm your privet dancer, I'm rural and tragic
      And any old hedgerow will do...

      I want to live a life more thrilling
      I wanna live out by the Rim
      Eating pies with tasty fillings
      Yeah, my pointy hat could use a brim

      All the folk come to my forest
      Desperation brings them in
      Here comes another chorus
      So here's your medicine

      I'm your privet dancer, a dancer for magic
      Spell-casting only for you
      I'm your privet dancer, no shambles or gadgets
      But any old hedgerow will do...

      Don't want Ankh dollars
      A flannel full of cress will do nicely, thank you!
      Play my parts just like Vitoller
      Tell me, do you wanna see me read your future again?

      I'm your privet dancer...

      ** NOTE:
      original lyrics for Private Dancer can be found at:
      http://www.lyricsdepot.com/tina-turner/private-dancer.html
      or http://tinyurl.com/yfb16a
      ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
      End of Part 2, says my computer -- continued on Part 3 of 5
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      If you did not get all 5 parts, write: jschaum111@...
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