Favorite passages from non-existent books

[Disgustipated]

I don't own a real book and you expect me to own a non - existent one?

 

[KingOrfeo]

NOTES OF CHARACTER SKECCHES FROM THE GENERALE PROLOGE OF
THE PILGRIMES IN THE STERRES

Ther was a SMUGGELERE, and he the beste,
Wyth gowne of whit and snazzye litel veste.
He hadde a shippe that was a noble vessel
For in twelf parsekkes it had yronne the Qessel;
At customes houses nevir did he pause –
For resoned he ther was but litel cause:
To paye a tax or impost made hym wood,
And I seyde his opinioun was good:
Why sholde hys labour fatten up the paunches
Of bureaucrates that sitte upon their haunches
And tak their paye from honest merchauntes werke?
This good man kepte the officiales in the derke
And oft he wolde in his shippes floore hyde.
From oon ende of the sterres to the other syde,
He hadde yflowne, and seene many a wondere,
And yet he hadde no feare of Goddes thondere.
He seyde hys destinee was hys to make
Wyth blastere or wyth sleight or wyth wisecrake.
Of goold and eek of love he had a thirste,
In altercaciouns he ay shot firste.

A WODWOS hadde he, and servantz namo,
A goodly furrye man, from hedde to sho.
Hys lokkes were longe and brown as aren a bearys,
Wher he hath sat, a man may knowe – there hair ys!
A bandolier he wore about hys sholdere
And of bowcastre boltes yt was the holdere.
He was a worthy frende yn tymes of stresse,
Thogh yif a man sholde beate him atte chesse
This gentil beest wolde th’arme rippe from the winner;
Therefor he wonne as oft as Bobbye Fischer.

And ther were wyth thes two good men, on shippe,
By plotte-twist yfalle yn felawshippe,
Fower otheres, of which I shalle anon yow telle,
(And all but oon shal lyve until the sequelle).

A TRANSLATEUR was with hem, maad of goold,
He knewe ech langage newe and ech tonge oold.
A conversacioun right wel this man koud carrye
Wyth vaporators d’eaux in tonge binarye.
And yet he timorous was, and oft wolde hyde
If daunger or if batel did betyde.
Whan men did fighte, for feere he almost breste.
An oyle bath he loved al the beste.

And wyth hym cam a smal ARTIFICER
Whos armour was as azure bright and cler
And eek as whit as ys the whales boon.
Althogh men have two eyen, he had but oon,
In maner of the creatur hight cyclopes.
He was so gret a clerk that ther no pope ys
That koude so muchel of calculaciouns
And ars-metrik, and werkes of alchemie,
And al the divers calculaciouns
By which to maken navigaciouns.
He was a verray parfit killer app,
And ofte in joye he cryed out “bweep, er-dap!”

A WHINY YOUTHE cam nexte, barleye a man,
With yelwe haire, tunique, and farmeres tan.
But aquaculture litel did he love,
He wolde been a pilot al above
And bullseye oump-rattes yn a nimble craft.
Saye, have ye evir been upon a rafte
And herde the wynde blowe fast over the wave
So that the winde did seme to sighe and rave?
Wyth just swich fierceness sigheth thys yonge man,
And whineth eek, and whingeth whan he kan,
For he ne lovede nat his occupacioun
And he wolde rathir go to Tashi stacioun.

And wyth hym rood an oolde EREMITE,
Who knew the crafte of armes more than a lite;
He loved the forse syn he a youngling was,
And eek trouthe and honour, and kickinge arse.
Ful worthy was he in the auncient werres,
For in thos tymes he foughte on manye sterres:
At Theed citee he was, whanne it was won,
And many a metal foe he had outdon;
And eek he made the stande at Jeonosis
(the which, I trowe, was nat a bunch of roses!);
At Rhin-Vare had he foughte, and Terre Sool.
From Corpusant and Utapaux al hool
He cam aweye, unnethe wyth a scracche
Thogh on Mustphar he nerely met his macche.
A saber loved he beste, and thoghte it faster
And moore gentil than eny randome blaster.
Ful wys he was, no action-hero merely,
Thogh of paternitee he spak unclearlye.

-- Geoffrey Chaucer

 

[KingOrfeo]

I don't own a real book and you expect me to own a non - existent one?

Not own, just quote. You can check out lots of nonexistent books from the Library of Babel.

 

[KyleW]

Bob I Think

by Jordan Reynold Smythe

From his acclaimed Bob trilogy. Later the trilogy was made into 27 movies by Peter Jackson's prodigy, Michael deTroix.

"From behind me I heard a voice ring out over the thrum of generators. Who is that man? I squinted and looked toward the tower, Bob I think!"

 

[John Doe]

Weirdos.

 

[blobfish]

Is this only for books that don't exist now, or does it also cover books that will continue not existing in the future? I'm not a psychic.

 

[Colonel Hogan]

The Right Stiff by Cyril H. Recht

Forensic pathologist to the stars and long-time Kennedy assassination critic Cyril Recht turns his scientific expertise on the now upwards of 21,000 eye-witnesses and principal actors who have died mysterious deaths in the almost 50-year wake of the drive-by homicide of the nation's most sexually promiscuous President prior to William Jefferson Clinton.

From the Introduction: "Weeks upon weeks of meticulous research lead us to the shocking discovery that at least three of the last 27 surviving Dealey Plaza witnesses died as a result of having been intentionally injected with the virus that causes Parkinson's disease.

"Apart from the individual pain inflicted on these victims and their families, we must all face the social trauma derived from the indisputable fact that the government cover-up has now entered its third generation of conspirators engaged in our country's longest continuous criminal enterprise.

"The torch has indeed been passed, and none of us who have struggled to reveal the truth has escaped being burned."

Not coming March 1st from Random Horse.

 

[girlsmiley]

"The nethermost caverns," wrote the mad Arab [Abdul Alhazred, in the Necronomicon,] "are not for the fathoming of eyes that see; for their marvels are strange and terrific. Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live new and oddly bodied, and evil the mind that is held by no head. Wisely did Ibn Schacabao say, that happy is the tomb where no wizard hath lain, and happy the town at night whose wizards are all ashes. For it is of old rumour that the soul of the devil-bought hastes not from his charnel clay, but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws; till out of corruption horrid life springs, and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and swell monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earth's pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl."

-- H.P. Lovecraft, "The Festival"

Horse shit

 

[KyleW]

Horse shit

on behalf of CHNOPS I thank you for your contribution

 

[girlsmiley]

'Get aloft, Maetsukker,' he said in Dutch, the lingua franca of the Low Countries, which he spoke perfectly, along with Portuguese and Spanish and Latin.
'I'm near death,' the small, sharp featured man said, cring-ing deeper into the bunk. 'I'm sick. Look, the scurvy's taken all my teeth. Lord Jesus help us, we'll all perish! If it wasn't for you we'd all be home by now, safe! I'm a merchant. I'm not a seaman. I'm not part of the crew. . . . Take someone else. Johann there's-' He screamed as Blackthorne jerked him out of the bunk and hurled him against the door. Blood flecked his mouth and he was stunned. A brutal kick in his side brought him out of his stupor.
'You get your face aloft and stay there till you're dead or we make landfall.'

 

[Laurel]

I particularly enjoy Chrononhotonthologos, a play by Henry Carey.

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-76BPy_yPZAY/T7rSdqyWkgI/AAAAAAAAGTg/9vL5h8PLqWw/s1600/icon_bowing21.gif

 

[Laurel]

'Get aloft, Maetsukker,' he said in Dutch, the lingua franca of the Low Countries, which he spoke perfectly, along with Portuguese and Spanish and Latin.
'I'm near death,' the small, sharp featured man said, cring-ing deeper into the bunk. 'I'm sick. Look, the scurvy's taken all my teeth. Lord Jesus help us, we'll all perish! If it wasn't for you we'd all be home by now, safe! I'm a merchant. I'm not a seaman. I'm not part of the crew. . . . Take someone else. Johann there's-' He screamed as Blackthorne jerked him out of the bunk and hurled him against the door. Blood flecked his mouth and he was stunned. A brutal kick in his side brought him out of his stupor.
'You get your face aloft and stay there till you're dead or we make landfall.'

Lovely! From what nonexistent book & author did this come?

 

[oggbashan]

There have been several non-existent books in the UK.

One famous one that is now off the list was a long-running Yellow Pages TV advert that showed an elderly man ringing bookdealers to try to find a long out-of-print copy of "Fly-Fishing by J R Hartley". The last scene, when he had found a copy, admitted that the man was J R Hartley.

Then a publisher decided to commission the book. Fly-Fishing by J R Hartley now exists.

One bookbinder had a window-display of samples of his work on ancient tomes. The contents were worthless books such as Whitaker's Almanac for 1956, but he was very inventive with the titles on the spines:

Ropes, Whips and Rubber by Eve Dunlop

Knots and Whipping for Scouts by I F Only

Does Servant Sex Matter? by I Master

 

[Laurel]

There have been several non-existent books in the UK.

One famous one that is now off the list was a long-running Yellow Pages TV advert that showed an elderly man ringing bookdealers to try to find a long out-of-print copy of "Fly-Fishing by J R Hartley". The last scene, when he had found a copy, admitted that the man was J R Hartley.

Then a publisher decided to commission the book. Fly-Fishing by J R Hartley now exists.

One bookbinder had a window-display of samples of his work on ancient tomes. The contents were worthless books such as Whitaker's Almanac for 1956, but he was very inventive with the titles on the spines:

Ropes, Whips and Rubber by Eve Dunlop

Knots and Whipping for Scouts by I F Only

Does Servant Sex Matter? by I Master

Come On In! by Doris Open

Yellow River by I. P. Freely

Parachuting by Yugo First

Why Cars Stop by M.T. Tank

Without Warning by Oliver Sudden

 

[Laurel]

" 'Dive... DIVE' yelled the captain through the thing. So the captain pressed a button, or something, and it dove. And the enemy was foiled again!" - Mrs. Hazeltine

-

 

[oggbashan]

Real Books

The following were winners from The Bookseller magazine for a book title that 'most outrageously exceeds all bounds of credibility':

1978: Proceedings of the Second International Workshop on Nude Mice

1979: The Madam as Entrepreneur: Career Management in House Prostitution

1980: The Joy of Chickens

1981 Last Chance at Love: Terminal Romances

1982 The judges were split between:

Population and Other Problems

and

Braces Owners Manual

1983 The Theory of Lengthwise Rolling

1984 The Book of Marmalade: Its Antecedents, Its History and Its Role in the World Today

 

[oggbashan]

Real Books - Sexy or not?

Seven Wives and Seven Prisons; or, Experiences in the Life of a Matrimonial Monomaniac. A True Story Written By Himself. L A Abbott, (self-published) New York 1870

Literature of Kissing Charles C Bombaugh, Philadelphia PA and London J B Lippingcott 1876

Orgasmus and Super-Orgasmus Ruediger Bosschmann, Flensburg Stephenson Verlag 1972,

and same publisher 1970:

Sex + Sex = Gruppensex

Is the Pleasure Worth the Penalty? A Common-sense View of the Leading Vice of the Age Henry Butter, Job Caudwell 1866

The Girdle of Chastity Eric John Dingwall, Routledge 1931 - The definitive book on chastity belts

Wed To a Lunatic. A Wild, Weird Yarn of Love and Some Other Things Delivered in the Form of Hash for the Benefit of Tired Readers Frank Warren Hastings, St. Johnsbury, Vt, L W Rowell 1896,

and second edition 1901

Wed To a Lunatic. A Lie (enlarged and revised to meet the requirements of modern science)

All the above from Bizarre Books, Russell Ash, Brian Lake, Sphere Books Ltd 1987 (first edition was Macmillan 1985) ISBN 0-7221-1292-0

 

[phrodeau]

Come On In! by Doris Open

Yellow River by I. P. Freely

Parachuting by Yugo First

Why Cars Stop by M.T. Tank

Without Warning by Oliver Sudden

Hole In the Mattress by Mr. Completely.

 

[blobfish]

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-76BPy_yPZAY/T7rSdqyWkgI/AAAAAAAAGTg/9vL5h8PLqWw/s1600/icon_bowing21.gif

A nonexistent emoticon! You are so meta.

 

[Laurel]

Nonexistent? It's right there!

 

[Laurel]

Hole In the Mattress by Mr. Completely.

That's it. You win the Internet.

 

[Laurel]

Can't believe there's no love for my Throw Mama from the Train reference.

Kids today...

 

[blobfish]

Nonexistent? It's right there!

So is The Book by Emmanuel Goldstein.

 

[phrodeau]

That's it. You win the Internet.

 

[CHNOPS]

Wilfred handled Melina's buttocks manfully, answering her questioning cheeks with a short, fat flesh-message of support. "I read you!" she metaphored. "I read you loud and clear!!"

"Squeeze me with emotional availability" he counseled. "Let me feel you give yourself to me through the complicated musculature of your waste systems/love holes." He messaged harder into either her puckered button or slippery canal, he did not know which, for there are times when a man cannot tell, and when it does not matter anyway, because the pool of passion is so deep that it is not important whether one enters on the stairs or off the diving board.

"Yes!!" she agreed. "Jump on my diving board! Jump on it good!"

"Ah," thought Wilfred. "So it's the diving board, is it." He pinched his nipples proudly and said the five words he knew he would always say in such a moment:

"Aristocrat. Beneficence. Narcolepsy. Ululate. Garrulous."

--50 Grades of Shea, E J Lames