 The House of EdgarYes, it is I... Edgar A Poe *courtly bow*, and I am sorely troubled, my friends. My lady and I are faced with the necessity of procuring a new abode. *SIGH*... 'Tis a long and tedious tale, indeed. Dare I intrude upon your generous natures and share our sorrows, I ask myself?... *SIGH*....... "Cripes sake, Edgar! Just spill it, will ya'?? Sick of yer morbid mumblin'-- Torment somebody else, for a change." *grumble*... *wince*...uh, Sparrow has, with winsome and gentle persuasion, confirmed my trust in the caring compassion exhibited by the typical reader of this humble zine. Yes-- I will confide! Hmmm... oh Sparrow, my dearest, by the way... it appears the fire in my pipe has gone out. Would you-- *GLARE...* Ah...*cough* Nevermind. Please don't trouble yourself. I can manage quite well. I-- "Edgar, stick that damn pipe--" *stumble creak creak...SLAM* Uh, yes, kind reader. I felt it best to close the door... I must collect my thoughts, yes. *puff puff*... And as I was saying-- Well... it all started when that infernal cable installer fell into the tarn! Of course, I felt great sympathy for the unfortunate fellow. (Though the accident was no fault of mine.) I immediately waded into the shallow end of the sticky mire (without the protection of my hip boots, mind you!), held out a newly fallen tree branch, and plucked the poor devil to safety. Happy ending, you say? NAY! How was I rewarded for the rescue, this fearless act of bravery?? The first insult was a nasty blow to the cranium with a cable box wielded by the crazed lunatic. The device raised a protuberance with the dimensions of a crab-apple! In addition, it raised my temper. *Harrruummpph* I chased the ingrate to his odd vehicle with oaths no mortal should be forced to utter. But I consider him fortunate in that I have mellowed in recent years, thus sparing him the thrashing of his life! I instead retreated and allowed Sparrow to nurse my wound, deciding to dispense with the matter entirely-- But, what then? The next week's mail brought a bundle of letters entitled "code citations", containing lists of "violations" allegedly harbored throughout our home and property. We were then besieged by building inspectors, those carbuncles of the civilized world. *snort* I attempted to humor their ludicrous regulations, applying for a "home improvement" loan, only to be humiliated in the process. Gadzooks! I had to revive poor Sparrow, whose tender ears first received the callous rebuff by phone, whereupon she fluttered to the floor. Snatching up the earpiece, I demanded repetition of the offending statement from the rascal at the other end of the line. Calling to mind his response refreshes my rage-- I was livid! He replied that he knew not what prankster I be, but that the loan had been denied, due to the "fact" that the applicant had expired over one hundred years prior! Yes, faithful readers... he coldly informed me that I am (to present it in the simplest of terms) deceased!! *sigh*... The audacity. Alter the exquisitely formed railings of my spiral staircase to conform to their "codes"? Evict the bats from my belfry?! *SOB* "Yeah... I'm really fond of yer bats, Edgar... I'd miss em'." ...Wha- why, Sparrow-- my beloved! I was unaware you had crept back into my chambers. *smooch* Yes, dear.. we are untroubled by mosquitoes, and we owe that debt of gratitude to the bats' voracious appetites. We are blessed, indeed... BAH! I have changed my mind. I refuse to buckle beneath the tyrany of City Hall. Code violations-- Balderdash!! A man's home is his castle, and mine, in the literal sense, I might add... *twitch* And I will allow no one to plunder the sanctity of our dungeon, my darling... *sappy grin* The traces of our most romantic interludes linger therein, do they not? ...*blush*... "Well, yeah... hehe." Then it is settled! I will guard my home and hearth in earnest. Bring on the big guns, boys-- *wildly waving his quill* The pen is mightier than the sword!! Some links to challenge the mind, my friends.. but proceed with CAUTION-- These people actually believe I'm dead! The Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore "castle" graphic used in the construction of The House of Edgar derived from this handsome site: The Fall of the House of Usher
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