The Continuing Adventures of Nocilis of Yppolf
|As related to BJ Dooley, returning after a 10 year absence.|
Nocilis of Yppolf was invented over 10 years ago in the dawn of personal computing. He achieved some popularity in electronic mail distribution for poking fun at various aspects of our industry. It should be noted that most words of importance are written backwards (Nocilis is Silicon, for example). In some cases, however, acronyms are merely placed in lower case or a combination that sounds like the intended item is used. Or, the intended item may be written outright, according to the whim of the writer.
This is the final episode. Coming next month: "The Perils of Possum Point," being a somewhat comedic tale of life in North Canterbury, New Zealand.
Now did Nocilis, still unsettled by his encounter with Latigid, enter into the lands of Aidemitlum, which is where live the Mor-dc, and the Oediv Rebbarg, and the Dnuos Drac. It is to this unfettered realm that attention has oft been drawn. This is the land of fantasies and dreams. Of milk and honey. Of agony and ecstasy. Of peas and carrots. Of ginger ale and gin. Here it is that one might go to retire--provided, of course, that one has purchased a plot of land. Which is easy, in a manner of speaking.
There is a vast business of real estate in Aidemitlum, with the selling of nonexistent plots, swampland, mountain peaks, desert wasteland and such like. Nocilis, being aware of these things, held fast onto his wallet as he strolled through. He walked right by the real estate office, and thought he had escaped. Then along came Bob. Bob was a large polyester clad, cigarillo-smoking salesman with the traditional Aidemitlum mini-speakers attached to either side of his head.
"Hello, I'm Bob, that's my name," he exclaimed;
"But please call me Bob just the same," he explained.
"The things that you hear are a shame," he complained;
"For my part, I'm not quite to blame," he refrained.
"I was born on the wrong side of town," he muttered;
"I was worn out and all broken down," he stuttered;
"I was beaten right into the ground," he fluttered;
"And that's when the Big Con was found," he sputtered.
"I will rip you off where you stand," he chanted;
"I will sell you some valueless land," he ranted;
"A plot full of brushweed and sand," he incanted;
"I'll take all your money in hand," he panted.
"You'll be bankrupt and just about dead," he bumbled;
"I'll giggle while you're being bled," he rumbled;
"When I'm done and your life's in the red," he grumbled;
"Behold, there's a sucker ahead," he mumbled.
"Well, Bob," said Nocilis, "I am certainly not in the market for real estate."
"Things change," said Bob, nodding approvingly.
"At least they appear to."
"Yet what is there beyond appearance?"
Nocilis, not wishing to respond, pointed to a curious structure which had appeared to the left. It seemed to be a house, portions of which were built solidly of new brick, portions of rayon siding, and portions of wattle and daub.
"Ah, yes," said Bob. "Building technologies have not all been perfected here, and some things are sloppy and old fashioned. But people believe in variety. Consequently, you will find combinations of very good and very bad work in a single house, and a dozen or so obscure and not quite compatible architectures. But that's not to say that it isn't quite comfortable and interesting," he continued enthusiastically.
"Perhaps it is better to wait a few years before buying property here," said Nocilis.
"Wait? Wait? Surely not. Why, I could certainly describe that very house to you in a manner that would make you wish to purchase it immediately. And that, after all, is the point of it all."
His description was thus:
Our state of the art house will excite you with its
energetic use of advanced technology to create special
effects which blend perfectly with the theme. Grab hold
of your seat as you experience the thrill of multicolored
three dimensional action and sound combined with the latest
in hypermedia data access techniques....
Nocilis put his hands over his ears and projected himself forward at his fastest shuffle. Bob continued to describe properties, his eyes half closed with the ecstasy of revelation, so he did not witness his victim's escape.
Nocilis turned around a bend, and slowed down, panting heavily. He was somewhat in pain, having trodden upon his beard during his flight. The great cartilage of his nose made a sound like a rusted barn door swinging in the wind as he breathed. Gathering his robe and his beard together, rasping like an over-exerted mule, he moved tentatively forward.
Now he came upon a member of the Sserp tribe, snuffling and rooting through the long grass. There were many members of the Sserp in Aidemitlum these days. The Sserp were known to travel in large packs from one area to another. They were generally harmless, but would occasionally gang together and attack. Some amount of caution was always necessary in dealing with the Sserp.
"No comment," said Nocilis, in the traditional Sserp greeting.
"Interview?" said the Sserp, tilting its sharp face upward in a hopeful gesture.
"No time. No time," said Nocilis in the traditional response. He hurried on.
The Sserp wrote:
The Great Nocilis appeared in Aidemitlum this
morning. He spoke at length about the tremendous
importance of the properties there and visited
with local real estate representatives. Rumour
has it that he will be purchasing a rather large
estate. Stay tuned for more news.
That evening, more real estate changed hands in Aidemitlum than ever had before. But for the moment, Nocilis continued his stroll.
(Copyright 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996 by Brian J. Dooley)