Sunday, February 04, 2007

The continuing tale of John Mindry

Whereas the author wishes to affirm that he is not making fun of John Mindry but merely reciting all that happened in a difficult but happy period in his life.

Whereas those who wish to point out to the author(who may, in fact, be called The Chronicler, since he is merely telling of events and not developing characters or plots. And 'The Chronicler' sounds really cool.) that 'all this stuff is ok, but what's the point? Why do we care about John Mindry?' may do well to learn that they need not, in fact, care about John Mindry and may cold-heartedly leave him and the thousands of other men and women with ductile genitalia to the mercy of society and how would their consciences feel about that?

Whereas The Chronicler likes to begin sentences with 'Whereas'(using a capitalized 'W' there too). Also liked by The Chronicler are 'Notwithstanding,' 'Insofar as,' 'Inasmuch as' and 'Heuristic.'

John Mindry accrued more and more ductility, in terms of his genitalia, and lost more and more of his hair. Things got to such a head, pardon the pun, that John Mindry, one fine day, resembled Winston Churchill with an alarmingly flexible richard. He went mad, slowly but surely mad.

But he did not give up on his experiment.

No, he pursued his goal of becoming a pig with more of a fanatical zeal than before. This, despite, in his eyes, the disaster with the ductile genitalia. Most other people would not consider that a disaster.

The human race is divided into people with alarmingly ductile 'members' and those without. The latter are mostly women.

John Mindry hit upon an idea now. Rather than rely on stored data to duplicate a pig's genetic data, he decided to attempt a real-time experiment. He would use a live pig and transfer the DNA simultaneously into his body. The pig would die but he would become it, instead of it. Rather pleased with himself for having thought of this elaborate and taxing procedure, he treated himself to a plate of food. The next day, he walked out into the world to procure a pig, armed with nothing but his wits and 'wee-wee.'

To the first pig he met on the way, he put this proposition:-
"Ahoy, pig. I am John Mindry, taxpayer and member of the opposition party to this...this...Supreme being person. I have taken this stance because of certain misfortunes that have come to befall me in the course of my life so far. To facilitate my process of revenge, I shall require your DNA. You will be rewarded, for this, with food and mud. Will you donate your DNA for this noble cause of mine? Speak, pig, and you shall be feted!"

To which the pig responded with a snort.


This so startled John Mindry that he died on the spot. Promptly, without a question, not a why or a wherefore. As he lay there on the street, beside a fence behind which a pig groped about in mud pitilessly(regarding Mindry), none took notice of him. They were all wary of him, since he was rumoured to be conducting odd experiments on himself and was known to be somewhat mad. So they thought, naturally, he was in deep converse with a pig and left him to it. It was not until the next day that John Mindry was carried away from the pig's lair; upon which the pig emitted another snort and said, "Hmm."

The person who carried away John Mindry

was John Mindry.


Sandeep said...

Olle twist in the tale ide...

Gotayta, twisted tail - pigs - tale? Henge?

Sari. Nan ee koodale 'bball' adakke hordtidini.

Harish said...

Oh, haage kathe!
Baritira neevunuve, parvaagilla.

Harish said...

Note the usage of 'neevunuve'.

Anonymous said...

As Sandeep-avare points out, olle twist-oo.

Very ductile, this story of John Mindry. :D

tangled said...


And you are such good entertainment, boy.

sneha_april said...

abba, yen kathe adu!!

Malaveeka said...

I'm back.



*gulps air*

chk nanna bloggu!

Arjun Sharma said...


[Harish]Eno, ella aa..yaaru gottalla?

Usage noted and duly deprecated.

[AC]Houdu, olle twist-u. Next enagatte nangu gottilla, that's the tragedy.

[tangled]Ya ya.


[Malaveeka]Checked and commented.

Bharathi said...

alvo ishtella creative writing antha chikkammange gothirlilla! yen gokulada gnapakano ninge? irli jugga nan magne