Jordan and I find ourselves in what was once a forest, framed by the charred corpses of organia. Before us looms our Oak erection which, yielding to precedent, is in acute decline. The Moirai schlep our porcine persons t'ward the wilted trunk, Atropos routinely glancing back over her shoulder with a wicked grin and making the "snip-snip" motion with her fingers. Her nails (predictably, on reflection) are a manicured, sultry red.
We don't know how we ended up here. There is the sense of an absence of a memory of a "why", but its inaudible squawks are stifled beneath a landslide of inattention and unpardonably byzantine prose. Camouflaged as we have been, concealed from the sweet, tempering sunshine of others' gaze, with naught but the Spooky Puppeteers and, inescapably, each other for company, we have succumbed to a climate of grotesque permissiveness.
A calendar governed not by heavenly bodies but by earthly vagaries. An oral system unmitigated by normal human limits. Writings suggestive of an omni-cibarious yogurt parfait, where digging through each layer brings not nourishment but simply more. Somewhere along our sylvan traipse, yes, we grew unable to see the wood for the trees.
We are IN the wood, though. To be fair, like.
But perhaps escape is possible...
On this quasi-penultimate episode, Jordan reviews the first season of MR. BIRCHUM (with none of the presumptuousness that "first" implies), the second season of SMILING FRIENDS (but the whole thing, really), GAME CHANGER (the whole thing, really) and the first season of DELICIOUS IN DUNGEON (an uncontroversial "first".) Otherwise, he kindly invites me to participate in the podcast with evaluations of the ninth and final series of INSIDE NO. 9 (with allusions to the whole thing), FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA, HUNDREDS OF BEAVERS and IN A VIOLENT NATURE (hol fings), the first season or fourteenth series of DOCTOR WHO (depending on your orientation to the universe) and WINNIE-THE-POOH: BLOOD AND HONEY 2 (yes, the whole. Damn. Thing.)
...Winnie the-
-Oh God, is this the Hundred Acre Wood..? Not gonna be Milne's, though, is it? It gonna be Frake-fucking-Waterfield's.
Oh, smother.
