Sir Gerald Inhali with the fragrant Lady Valerie matrimonially dwelt at Clifton, behind a modestly pretentious pair of wrought iron gates, which hinged on a pair of pleasantly weathered redbrick columns topped each by a large stone or, as I think more likely, concrete ball, sedulously faked. This arrangement fronted a short gravelled drive, at the end whereof a large mock-Georgian house had contrived to wedge itself under the top lip of one of those cliffs overhanging the pretty pastel terraces down below in Hotwells. —
Hotwells, Sir Gerald Inhali, Clifton
The Chairmanship of the Blood & Soil Association and the Vert Rouge, as the incumbent thereof was in his franker moments the first to confess, had about it something of the honorary, not to say the sinecure. This is not in any way to gainsay the unassailable truth, that Sir Gerald had vey faithfully served the Blood & Soil Association and the Vert Rouge almost continuously since the earliest incarnation in the 1960’s of the first named nematode as the agricultural wing of the Celtic, Saxon, and Nordic League: Maoist Tendency, and had worked or wormed his way up through the ranks, as variously: tea-boy; Genteel Organiser in the nudist woodcraft camps which had been betimes that mob’s stock-in-trade; and latterly ideologue and/or theoretician, in which capacity he had been put to the necessity of digesting a great deal of the eructations of Abimael Guzman, Antonio Gramsci and Georges Sorel, as well as the 19th century agrarian-socialist traum of Victor Chernov, and of synthesising these and diverse other influences in the form of a mighty doorstop tome, leather-bound and rejoicing in the title The Blaque and the Green: a Definitive Statement of the Theory and the Practice of Cultural-Racial Ecologism in the British Isles. Sir Gerald was perfectly satisfied that all of this, together with the two prison sentences which he had served at the Association’s behest during the 1970’s, when that nematode had undertaken a short-lived and, if the truth be told, almost entirely notional armed struggle against the hegemony of the bourgeois-cosmopolitan British establishment, perfectly entitled him, now that he was embarked upon the autumn of his years, to take his easement upon his laurels. —
Aryan Maoist
Lady Valerie Inhali grunted, and levered herself upright. —
Lady Valerie Inhali
Sir Gerald Inhali wished to the companion of his days the best of the morning lately ended, and quit the chamber of her repose. Upon the landing, the exiled king looked down the hall to where the spare room door swung upon oiled hinges ajar, whence aperture there emanated a stentorian rumbling. Sir Gerald, vey reasonably supposing himself to be in the proximity of the fons et origo of dinosaur onesies, sneered, yet tarried not, but straightway betook himself back downstairs and out, marking his exit by shutting firmly behind him the front door to his demesne. —
Dinosaur onesie
“Like,” said, inevitably, St Just, “like it doesn’t have to be like the Missiz. You’ll do just as well like.” —
St Just
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