Well, after he'd stencilled the JAZZCOM report he had time to sit down and think again, which is not good for him.    I'm rather worried about Nigel these days. He will sit and brood at the slightest excuse, and it's all the fault of the ROMILEY FAN DANCING SOCIETY. Ever since they enrolled him he's been trying to learn what he's been let in for. He keeps writing to the Chief Fan Dancer and waits in an agony of suspense for the reply, which is always etched on accordion-pleated parchment and dropped down his chimney at midnight.    If he only knew WHO the Chief Fan Dancer was it wouldn't be so bad, but HE prefers to remain ignominous. All we know is that HE is a member of the ROMILEY FAN VETERANS & SCOTTISH DANCING SOCIETY, which HE has sworn to destroy.    In the last SCHNERDLITES Nigel exposed the foul intrigue, but the next letter that came put a different complexion on the matter and he decided to hush it up. Traditionally I am bound to interfere with Nigel's fan publishing, so I am going to show you the recent correspondence. This is easy because he's gone away on business this weekend. He's calling on Messrs Harris, Harris, Snoopwhistle & Harris, Solicitors, of Rainham, Essex (they are the English solicitors to the Fort Mudge Steam Calliope Co. you know) and he hopes to close a deal which he says will mean I have something coming to me, which I think is just swell, don't you?    Anyway here it is: "Dear Mr Lindsay,    Thank you for your letter enquiring about the origins, beliefs, tenets and activities of the Romiley Fan Dancing Society, and I shall endeavour to enlighten you, without revealing all. You are as yet an honorary member... and the penalty for inquisitiveness is the Marathon Dance. Learn then...    Your first point, the origins. These are lost in antiquity, as our records cover only the last four thousand years of recorded history. What, think you, was the dance the Children of Israel danced before the Golden Calf made by the hands of Aaron? Aaron was a fully accredited member. If your memory does not go back so far, perhaps you remember the French Revolution which surged to success with the Carmagnole. Or of late, the Communist success in China, my doing, in which the Yang-ko was the dance of victory. Do you think it is pure coincidence that the Russian peasant, every morning before he dances down to the tractor station, ritually practises before a full length ballet mirror his arabesque, Jour de fete, fail dejeux and carapace? This, neophyte, is no new outfit. Reflect only on those members who ended their days dancing at the end of a rope.    Our beliefs? We can do no more than quote the words of one of our brightest lads, Nietzsche. Thus spake Nietzsche, in 'Thus Spake Zarathrustra'... "He who belongs to us must be strong of bone, light of foot, eager for fight and for feast, no sulker, no John o' Dreams, as ready for the hardest task as for a feast, sound and hale. The best things belong to me and mine, and if men give us nothing, then we take them; the best food, the purest sky, the strongest thoughts, the fairest women !" Most newcomers go for the women.    Nietzsche's comparison, with a good thinker was a good dancer, and throughout life dancing seemed to him the image of the finest culture, supple, yet strong to retain its equilibrium, an exercise demanding the highest training and energy of all the muscles of a well-knit organism. As is customary, Nietzsche went mad, and soon I shall, when you will get my job and carry on the work.    I got the job when the previous Master of Ceremonies overdid things. He was a man of superb physique, and as proof I mention that he lived and thrived in Stockport, and was Jitterbug Champion of South Manchester. A man of unusual will-power, he showed his power of mind over matter by taking a deep breath and sinking waist-deep into the surface of Merseyway. Purple in the face, he took another breath and disappeared. I waited a couple of hours for him to resurface, then went for something to eat. On my return I could not distinguish his hole from the normal holes in Merseyway. Since they have resurfaced the road, I do not expect to see him again.    Regretfully, I do not know what a tenet is, and until I get some asbestos paper, the activities must remain a secret. First you must undergo initiation...    Yours, "

Sole © RFV&SDS, 2009.