Sunday, April 15, 2007

Back from the wilderness

To all rabid devotees of the "Arm" - yes I know it's been quite some time since my last confession (I mean post), but change has been in the air. I've just started a new job after 6 years in my old job, so the inevitable upheaval has taken its toll on my blogging activities. So to herald the coming of April and the good weather the Arm is back with a vengeance. And what better way to do this than to introduce our second ever guest contributor, Rufus Dread (no relation to Judge as far as I know).

Rufus has written a fascinating and enlightening piece on that much maligned and mocked profession librarianship. Please note however the opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the Dreaming Arm. Furthermore the Arm accepts no liability for the deaths or cardigan thefts of any librarians by act of God, alien mutilation or catalogue indexing. It's good stuff - think of the literary consequences of Twenty Major and Franz Khafka getting pissed and stoned together and there you have it.

Take it away Rufus:

"Info-Mutants" by Rufus Dread

Librarians are traditionally known for their love of cardigans, spectacles and woolly underpants. To say they wouldn’t say boo to a goose is to put it mildy, but this breed of unassuming know-it-alls play a pivotal and sinister role in serving their masters whose aim is to create the new world order.

The horror began for me many years ago. My father was the village librarian in a remote Yorkshire village. I was an only child, my mother died when I was two in an obscure corn beef tinning accident.

Picture, if you will, a lonely and futile childhood spent roaming the moors and scratching out a living under the rule of a merciless coward - a spineless jellyfish of a man with a taste for Brains faggots - a man whose only joy was the Dewey Decimal Classification System. Evenings were spent in the meticulous repairing of broken book spines and perusing dusty volumes in search of defacement, graffiti or
(Christ have mercy), bodily fluids.

Bearded, spectacled and spluttering my father ruled with a rod of iron (which he also used to insert security tags into books) forbidding any comradeship and instilling in me only the love for the maintenance, classification and adoration of the book.

I was insular, snivelling and driven by my passion for books. Puberty passed me by, and I shunned the world of my school mates favouring solitude, dust and candlelight. My first sexual experience was with a first edition Dickens, but my eagle eyed father detected a pubic hair amidst the pages of Nicholas Nickleby and thrashed me to within an inch of my life for my troubles.

The day was 14th July 1979 a few days after my sixteenth birthday. I had spent Saturday cataloguing my fathers’ socks when I knocked at his door after hearing some peculiar grunting sounds coming from within. I got no response so I entered the room, and the sight of what met me almost had me wretching with fear. The bottom half of what presented itself to me was my father - the sandals and chords (yellow) were unmistakeable. But the top half of my father was transformed into green scaly flesh, stick like arms with webbed fingers and a bug like head (think de-horned grasshopper) . Moments passed like hours as my eyes met the eyes of the beast, its yellowing tongue protruding and withdrawing from the flabby mouth.

Terror seized me and I screamed “Where is my father you slimy cunt?”
“My name is Kronos … I’m going to make you unconscious now” was the last thing I heard before crumpling into a heap.

I awoke underground in a labyrinth of tunnels and caves. Everywhere were the half- human-half-reptile beasts holding burning torches. The women were only identifiable by their long skirts and brown tights. I was dragged kicking and screaming into a large dimly lit cave where a differently shaped insecticoid met me. The bottom half was the same, a human librarian, black chords and brown brogues. But this monstrosity had the upper body of an Iguana.
“Hello, I’m Iggy, I’m going to tell you about us and our mission here on your earth. Biscuit?”
Over the next few hours I learned about this amphibious race who had come to earth around 2000 BC and bred with humans by force. The offspring became a race of humanoids who had the ability to shift between normal human form and reptillia humanoid, their true state.
“What in the name of God was their mission?” I kept thinking to myself.
“I know what your thinking” said Iggy, “I have teleconetic powers”

Since the time of the Royal library of Alexandria in Egypt at the beginning of the 3rd Century BC the info-mutants (as they like to be known) have infiltrated the world of librarians, slowly gaining dominance until by about 100AD they had complete control of libraries and librarians worldwide. Every librarian since then has been an info-mutant, unassuming by day and catching flies with their tongues by night.

Their mission is simple. To create a new world order where they, the info-bugs, rule the planet and make the entire human race a breed of slaves providing their resources. When the time is right the info-mutants will reveal themselves and take control. They are waiting till they have sufficient numbers to overthrow us. The more libraries spread over the globe, the greater their number becomes.

I was dazed, crying, screaming, unable to comprehend.
“Now, would you mind taking all your clothes off and bending over so I can insert this breeding rod up your arse” said Iggy.

I became frantic, “got to escape”, but it was useless, I was surrounded and battered into unconsciousness.

I awoke back at the cottage dazed and head badly bruised. My father had apparently vanished. I had an awful pain in my arse. I guessed (rightly) that I’d been impregnated by the info-mutants.

Over the next few years I tried to fight against what was within me, a giant bug. I was able to shape-shift at will but I couldn’t join their filthy conspiracy and surrender my humanity. Maybe my father had felt the same, I never saw him again. I wondered whether my mother had known, or whether she had known too much. Maybe the corn beef tinning accident was just a ruse.

I became an activist, burning down libraries, going to prison, living like a wild animal on the moors, and transforming into a reptile at night. But never did I yield to the will of the info-mutant.

I implore you citizens of the world to take action against the enemy. Burn their books, break their spectacles and spit in their bemused pudgy faces. Take action before it is too late. Join me friends and save yourself from a life of slavery under the fascist boot of the reptile-librarian.

6 comments:

Lorainne said...

'Rufus' is wasted as a librarian - he should be writing gothic horror novels! I expect he is quiet and shy in reality - it is always the silent ones who you have to worry about (says the woman who could talk for England, Ireland and the universe).

CW said...

I think the Arm could with some mre of Rufus Dread's musings.

Lorainne said...

PS I didn't know the Arm had any 'rabid devotees' Where are they? I would like to meet them. Perhaps I should look in Battersea dogs home.

Lorainne said...

PPS I think Rufus is a serial killer.

The Daily Magnet said...

Ahh, that explains the school librarian...

CW said...

It explains a lot of things, DM!