Dear ______,
About this trip to Spain. I would love to come, if only to test out the theory of Nazi gold that is lying 75m south-east of a particular shaped cave. This is 1.5 km from a small village which is 3 km from the main road going south into Catalonia. Obviously the gold cannot be seen. It has sunk through 60 cm of soil and onto the bedrock. It is surrounded by bushes. A metal prod will reveal it in five minutes. The difficulty is not in finding it. The hard work is in removing it.
Of course, when I go is now a matter of slight debate. It takes some explaining.
I don't know whether I mentioned it, but for some time I have been receiving counselling from Miss Ivy Brown, a direction therapist. I had been referred to her by an American specialist, Dr Jones. He is an orthodontic psychiatrist. (He affirms that "Dental Health is Mental Health".)
Now, with hindsight, I see that Brown and Jones are really agents for the Church of Self Revelation. I expect you've heard about the Revelationists, haven't you? They go under different names, like the Full Disclosure Club and the Self Exposure Society. Each employs its own procedures but the objective is the same. If you query these processes you are likely to get fobbed off with vague references to "liturgical evolution".
Anyway, near the end of October Dr Jones asked to see me. After the usual examination of my teeth he got down to business. "I have discussed your case, in confidence, with a professional colleague," he said, with a slight smile. "I believe your basic problem is Life Alignment. Like the upper and lower jaws, your life components need to work in harmony. At present, they operate discordantly. The result is that you fail to masticate life's nourishment effectively. I am going to ask you to meet a very professional direction therapist."
He consulted his files. "Yes, it's Miss Ivy Brown." After arranging my appointment with the therapist, Dr Jones examined my teeth once more, before dismissing me.
I was surprised to find that Miss Brown's professional location was above a massage parlour in Shepherd's Bush. "It's so I'm near for when they need me," she whispered hoarsely, as she lit another cigarette. I leaned forward to maintain the air of secrecy. "I can see that the closeness can be beneficial," I whispered in reply. "Back off, buster!" ordered Miss Brown, but in the same aspirated whisper. I then realised that she suffered from a speech deficiency. I wanted to put our relationship on a professional footing immediately. "I suggest we get down to business," I murmured.
Miss Brown moved swiftly to the other side of her disk and lit another cigarette. She described my condition and the proposed treatment. She said that long periods spent alone resulted in my introspection and inability to relate to others. "We've just had an example of that," she wheezed. Apparently, my lonely state led me to hide my sins and crimes so that they poisoned my psyche. What I needed was a course of mental prosthodontic evacuation – a thorough mouthwash. I needed to be with lots of other people, there to be encouraged to talk about myself, my crimes, yearnings, sins and desires. Only in this way would I become sweet of breath again.
Eagerly, I signed up to join the Church of Self Revelation. Miss Brown generously fixed up everything there and then. She took my fee, rang both the Chief Promulgator and the Chief Auditor to announce my attendance and, after giving me the address of the Church, she showed me out.
I don't know if you are familiar with Old Court Place, of Kensington Church Street? Well, that's where the meetings are held. That's where I met Dorothy and fought for her with the evil Sydney. Finally, that's where I was arrested. My case comes up at Knightsbridge Crown Court in February. If there are any developments, I'll let you know.
Yours,
Conrad
