The End of the World

I have long suffered from a long list of maladies with mostly German and French names and which you often find tripping off the tongues of philosophy students who snap their fingers and drink too much coffee. A great deal of this is due to my upbringing as it is with so many of us, particularly those raised in religious, conservative households.

To add to this, I have now lived a life much longer than a regular person from Happy Valley should live: several hundred years, in fact. You don’t live a life that long without breaking a few eggs along the way, and (saddled as I am with a conscience) this begets the inevitable pangs of guilt and despair.

Yes, I have not only killed people who deserved it, but murdered those who may not have, and I have sent more than one saint to their martyrdom. For me, even the manifold wickedness of the most evil people I have killed cannot wash the stain of their deaths from my soul.

It is with that in mind that I write to you, sitting from the cubicle of my current occupation:  Customer Service Representative.

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Regarding My Insouciant Machinations

Greetings, dearest readers. As has become the custom for this blog, it is I, Parciloquy the Peculiar, Pleonast of Bleak-on-Vomir, Thaumaturge of the Aurantian Concordat, CEO of Interdimensional Business Machines, Inc., along with far too many other titles from a variety of different worlds to list here.

I am writing this warm Oregon day in response to a query I received through electronic mail querulously expressing disbelief in my claims that, though I wear the mild-mannered body of Happy Valley, Oregon resident Lancelot Squib,1 I am in fact Parciloquy the Peculiar of the aforementioned titles (along with many others left unmentioned), a wizard of the 69th Aeon of the Inevitable Realm of Atlass.

I have written this disquisition in response to the most salient arguments found within the electronic mail. Whilst I am an adventuring wizard and have often to resort to roguery to further my aims, I am at heart of a genteel nature, so I shall not disclose the identity of my captious detractor. However, I will mention that those around her typically refer her as “your majesty.”

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The Sunnyside Road Memo

To: Employees, contractors, et al, of Wizard's Tower LLC
From: Parciliquy the Pernicious and the Peculiar, Pleonast of Bleak-on-Vomir 
c/o Lancelot Squib, Chairman, Board of Trustees and Gamebook Author

I must humbly request the immediate cessation in all auxiliary tasks in order to consciously focus your attention on the following words:

The little Hare obeyed, and when it had begun to grow dark he went out into the world, in search of fresh work. This time she cracked the nut as soon as she reached it; she sat down upon a stone and went to sleep. The journey to Buda was long, and it was all so cool and familiar and friendly.

So with that out of the way, I am pleased to let you know that I have some most excellent news that will surely give you another reason for your seemingly limitless need for employee events and morale initiatives. 

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Earth, Atlass, and the Magic Portals of the Wizard’s Tower

To: The Peoples of Earth
From: Parciloquy the Peculiar, Pleonast of Bleak-on-Vomir, Thaumaturge of the Aurantian Concordat, and author of "Parciloquy's Suffering Silence: an Arcanist's Guide to Siopic Excruciation"

Welcome, dear reader. Once again it is I, Parciloquy the Peculiar joined this day, literally in body if not mind, by my faithful manservant Lancelot Squib, whose fingers even now tap away upon this laptop. Such a delightful device, much better than the tuning rods and crystals of which I am more accustomed to in my own devices.

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