Miniscule Approximations of Skewed Parallelograms in Music

Cathy, Doug, Leisa, Warren

5th November, 1989

Once upon a time there was a poor skewed parallelogram whose only desire in life was to un-skew self. The major hindrance to this aim was the chronic arthritis in his/her/its back which prevented him/her/it from using all their tentacles efficiently in the composition he/she/it was writing.

Unfortunately, the pseudopods had fallen off, leaving our hero Norman in a tough predicament. Would he sing the Marsellaise in the hope of restoring equilibrium, or drink mayonnaise in the hope of gaining vision?

A musical score was forming behind her/his/its eyes - perfection in colour and taste. The smell of it was overpowering, and yet in a certain sense, the most wonderful sound. He picked up the miraculously healed pseudopods, straightened his back, and marched to the door triumphantly. Bursting out, he addressed the assembled crowd, ``Yo! Listen to me one and all! I have created beauty on this world!''.

The world came to a grinding halt, the teeth decaying, and all manifestations of the word `Nurgle' becoming lost in the dying strains of ethereal vibrations coursing through his nose, with the wafts of ethanoic acid.

`Oh wow, what's happening?' he thought as he tripped out. How can this be so? It means nothing, but everything. It is greatness, and yet it's not musical! It is skewed in a relatively unknown dimension of the universe, where a remarkably young Bach rediscovered abstract geometrical structuring of fugues; it was all in the liverwurst his mother used to buy.