2324. There is skulduggery afoot

Max had just finished posting something on his blog when the phone rang. It was his landline. No one ever uses a landline these days, but Max had it just in case (as will one day inevitably happen) the Chinese blow the cell phone satellite and the earthbound transmitters to buggery. At least he’ll still be able to order pizza.

Who was on the phone? “Hello,” said Max. “Hello? Hello?”

There was no one on the other end. Sweet Fanny Adams.

Max reached for his wife’s handbag and took out her vintage M2 heavy machine gun. Aiming it at the landline telephonic communication instrument, Max pulled the trigger (with his bad finger) and blasted the phone to smithereens.

“I knew there was skulduggery afoot,” said Max. “No sooner had I realized that there was no one on the other end of the phone call than I realized there was indeed someone on the other end; listening. Listening to everything that was going on. It was the Chinese. And that’s why I shot it into oblivion with my wife’s vintage M2 heavy machine gun. I have rid myself of the Chinese spying on my IT work permanently.”

President Chi rubbed his hands in glee. Blowing up landlines was exactly what he wanted. They were harder to contol.

這正是醫生吩咐的, he said.

2299. Hidden treasure

Lynette thought fortune cookies we sort of fun but she didn’t believe a word of what they said of course. She was eating Asian with her boyfriend one afternoon, and when she broke open the fortune cookie there was a tiny map inside. Clearly it was a section of the town she lived in; at least the three named streets on the map were the same. There was a little cross marked on the map.

What is it? asked Warren.

It’s a map!

There could be treasure there, suggested Warren.

There’s only one way to find out, said Lynette.

They set off towards the named streets. Naturally many false turns and wrong leads were taken in the next several hours. Warren seemed to be a master at going in the wrong direction. Eventually they had narrowed down the cross on the little map to within a few metres. They stopped right outside where Lynette lived.

Surely the map doesn’t lead to my own house, said Lynette.

It could be in your mailbox, suggested Warren.

Lynette opened the mailbox for a look. There was a piece of paper inside.

She read the note. It said: Lynette, will you marry me? Warren went down on one knee.

1859. A page in history

(The following is a translation of Page 276 from a history book, published in the year of what we would have at some stage numbered 2084AD. Incidentally, the translation was made and pre-posted on Word Press over two months ago!)

When President Yáng Xiùlán Qiáng discovered North America (now called New China) the voyage was based on calculations presuming the world was round. The sphericalness of the planet was initially devised by the calculations of that early Chinese mathematician, Yáng Fāng Lì, over five thousand years ago.

All hail to Yáng Xiùlán Qiáng
Who expanded the borders of the world
And brought enlightenment to the people of New China.

The statue of President Khổng Xiùlán Qiáng, which graces what was once known as the Lincoln Memorial, is a replica of his image on Mt Rushmore – once the old images on Mt Rushmore had been dynamited off. The statue in the capital, New Beijing, was erected to commemorate our great leader’s initiative in curing cancer and also being the first person to walk on Mars.

Together we will work for the common good, striving to put into practice the dictates of the United Nations: All are created equal once the world has been purged of tyranny and once those who espoused non-compliant views have been silenced.

All hail to Yáng Xiùlán Qiáng
Who expanded the borders of the world
And brought enlightenment to the people of New China.

Footnote: President Yáng Xiùlán Qiáng recently approved the erection of a giant statue of herself to replace the Washington Monument. It is to celebrate her change of name to Yáng Xiùlán Qiáng from

(continued on next page – page 277)

1643. Foreign neighbours

My name is Margot. I don’t think much of the new neighbours. For starters, they are foreigners and don’t fit well into the area. In fact they lower the tone of the suburb considerably. Not that I’ve anything against foreigners, but when people come to a country that is not theirs they should make some effort to fit in; meld into the surroundings. You’d think they would; that’s what rats do. Peacocks strut around, and when a peacock shows off and spreads its tail you can see its arsehole. These people strut around like they own the place.

The new neighbours, so I heard, are Antoinette and Leon from Beijing or somewhere. China anyway. You can tell these things even though they’ve taken Western names. I thought communists were meant to be not so well off, but you should see their three cars! And the house they live in (I presume they rent and don’t own, though why the landlord thinks it’s okay to rent to communists I have no idea) is one of the most lavish houses in our neighbourhood. And that’s saying something. They’ve got three young children. No wonder the world is overrun.

Here comes the one called Antoinette up my path now. Presumably she’s going to ask for a cup of noodles or something! Chop! Chop!

Ching Chong Chinaman
Coming up my path
I shall pretend to be foreign
Just for a laugh.

“Hello. My name’s Antoinette. I’m the new neighbour. I thought I’d come over and introduce myself.”

“When you come from China?”

“Pardon?”

“When you come from China to dis place?”

“From China? I didn’t. My family have been here since 1824.”

1409. Going! Going! Wait!

You wouldn’t believe the excitement! It had not been long since Abram had finished his first novel. It was called “Going! Going! Wait!” He had boasted about it online and then… WHAM! … a message came from a publisher:

WE WOULD BE INTERESTED IN HAVING A LOOK AT IT.

“I guess I just struck it lucky,” said Abram.

He sent a copy off to the publisher immediately, and waited…

…and waited …and waited. They never replied. He never heard back.

“I guess it’s not going to get published,” said Abram.

But what Abram didn’t know was that it had been published. It had been translated into Chinese under a different author and name – along with thousands of other Western novels. The “publisher” made a pretty penny, and still does to this day.

847. Family from China

When the church parish sponsored a new immigrant family about once a year, Nancy Delaney often came to the rescue. She would have the family stay a few weeks while they adjusted to their new country and culture.

This year, it was a family from China. Actually, it was a mother and son from China. The son was twelve years old. The mother was a qualified doctor.

Nancy welcomed them into her home. They spoke halting English. And what could be more welcoming, more culturally sensitive, than to get “Chinese” for the first evening meal? Nancy purchased several different dishes, with lots of rice.

The visiting mother and son did their best to eat it. They could merely nibble and try not to look disgusted.

Over the next few weeks, the doctor taught Nancy how to cook proper Chinese, and Nancy taught her how to cook European. What a revelation for both! What a great friendship forged! The learning process is never one way.

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