more often but slightly less clever 

September 1st, 2011

There was a young fellow called Rex
With diminutive organs of sex
When charged with exposure
He said with composure
"De minimis non curat lex."

Legal Limerick


For sale: the entire contents of my parka pockets. Some extremely valuable (I think) Halls' wrappers and wadded up Kleenex, bus transfers etc. 3$ OBO. Box 99.
For rent: for rent sign. 25$/day. Box 13.
Wanted: one really really small behemoth. All the behemoths I have are outrageously large. Willing to pay top dollar. Box 34.

Tips for Fall Living

The weather is very changeable now. Stash sweaters in various places around town. The undersides of mailboxes are good.



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Shortened Attention Spans and the Return of the Weekly Persiflage

The Decline of Western Civilisation or Just a Thing?

A number of you (7) will be gratified to learn that PERSIFLAGE's experiment with a monthly issue has come to an end. A smaller number (6) will be saddened by this same fact. A somewhat larger number of you (832) will not care one or the other.

For those of you (2) who care to know the reasons why we have returned to the old weekly format, here is an explanation of sorts.

Since the invention of television in the early part of the very last century or, depending on who you talk to, the late part of the century before that, people's attention spans have been getting shorter. They have now reached a point where they are so short that you have probably already forgotten what this paragraph was about. (That's okay, so have I. Let's start a new one!).

PERSIFLAGE made its first appearance on the World Wide Web or "Internet" in 2005. In those days people still read things that were over one hundred words in length and some of them even read these things twice! Milk was under a dollar and I believe there was a middle aged white guy in the Prime Minister's Office (can't remember what he was doing in there). It was, as they say, a different time.

Now, of course, the World is a much bigger place. It is filled with busy people doing stuff and a lot of them just don't have the time, energy or inclination to flip back and forth through a bunch of "pages" reading long stories or articles or listening to interviews.

So we are back to the age of short but sweet. PERSIFLAGE will now be re-issued every Thursday (again) and will contain only very short essays (like this one) and stories that will not prove to large a strain on anyone's time.

So there.

Hugh Briss


          Ah September.

          The Romans named you
          the seventh month but
          you are the first
          to me.

          So (too?) many years
          of school made you
          like the

          But a beginning of what?
          Autumn is the season
          of death after all.
          The leaves drop and die.
          Will I? Will you?

          (I mean you, Reader.
          Not September.
          That's kind of scary.
          Isn't it?

M. Issing                        

The Clown Who Wasn't Crying On the Inside

Once upon a time there was a clown who wasn't crying on the inside.

Mr. Tinkles was actually a pretty happy clown. He was satisfied with his life and harboured no deep resentments. But as a result his balloon folding, his tiny tricycle riding and his general tomfoolery were all without nuance.

Mr. Tinkles was just kind of there. His performances were lacking in both depth and in subtle colouring. He was not without skill but his talents were merely surface ones.

Luckily for him though because he was a fairly happy guy it didn't bother him that much.

Sally Kind