Author Archives: Frank Key

Hooting Yard: Picnic for Detectives

On Thursday, I mentioned in passing Picnic For Detectives. This annual event has become one of the key dates in the Hooting Yard calendar, which is somewhat surprising, given its inglorious beginnings.

The very first Picnic For Detectives was hardly a picnic at all, and the official historian of the event estimates that only a handful of those taking part were bona fide detectives. All we know for certain is that a small group of people, no more than four or five, pitched up in a field with a couple of hampers, and spent an afternoon there. Meteorological records show the day was one of arctic squalls, but the field was in a temperate zone inland. In fact, it was just across the road from Pang Hill Orphanage. This anomaly has fascinated weather-fixated Picnic For Detectives buffs, who are legion.

So, not only do we have just a few people with a couple of hampers, we do not even know what was in those hampers. If you are familiar with ordinary picnics, you would expect to open up a hamper to find sandwiches, savoury flans, some fruit, crackers, cheese-related foodstuffs, cake, and bottles of refreshing barley water. Hardboiled eggs would be likely, too, unless the film director Alfred Hitchcock was one of the picknickers, for as we know from the many biographies, he was terrified of eggs.

  • Shem, Ham, Japheth and Minnie Crunlop
  • Mrs Gubbins and Mr Smith
  • Picnic for Detectives
  • Me and My Homunculus
  • Blodgett’s Fiendish X-Ray Plot

This episode was first broadcast on June 29th 2005. The entire text of this show can be found on the Hooting Yard Website.

Unfortunately, due to a recording error, the last few seconds of this show have been truncated, additionally there is persistent distortion throuought the entire recording. Sadly there is nothing we can do about this. It is after all an entirely live show. We will make it up to you… somehow.

Hooting Yard: Ornamental Pond Guilt

When Blodgett worked as a brain analyst, in the period immediately after a war, he became intrigued by cases of what was dubbed Ornamental Pond Guilt. One Saturday afternoon, pursuing his own projects in an otherwise deserted lab, he discovered that by exposing samples of dead brain tissue to an all-enveloping gas filtered through a Kleigland Sieve, he could never achieve the same results twice. He made his way to the canteen, notebook in hand, and scribbled down both the data and his conclusions while drinking cup after cup of nettle tea.

By chance, the canteen employed as mop-person a patient who suffered from Ornamental Pond Guilt. Pabstus V. was one of the first recorded cases of the syndrome, and though by no means cured, his condition was such that he could perform simple tasks such as mopping the floor of a canteen. Blodgett spilled some of his tea on the floor, and Pabstus V. mopped it up. It is one of the most poignant moments in medical history.

  • Theme from “The West Wing”
  • Sieves and Basins
  • Fictional Substance of the Week: Ichor
  • Sag Mir Wo Der Blumen Sind?
  • “Bloated Janitor” from the album “Effigies in Cork” by Vril
  • Hoon Hing Boom Bang A Bang
  • Mustard? Custard!
  • Ornamental Pond Guilt
  • The Passion of the Grunty Man

A transcript of the stories in today’s episode. plus many others can be found on the Hooting Yard website. This show was first broadcast on June 22nd 2005.


Hooting Yard: Those Gubernatorial Bells

O how they clanged, those gubernatorial bells! It is eighty years now since their peals sounded, but still I hear them in my head. They clanged ceaselessly, all day and all night, deafeningly loud, for years on end. Cows stood dazed in the fields around the bell-tower, many, many cows, too many cows to count, all dazed and stunned, and in those days no cowherds came to give them succour.

In your tongue, “gubernatorial” refers to governorship, but in my land at that time the gubernatorial bells were the ever-clanging bells of the ferocious tyrant known variously as the Gub or Guber or Gubernat. Some said the Gub was a fiend in human form, but none had ever seen it, so how could they be so sure, muttering darkly in the corner of the tavern, professing a knowledge they did not have, rewarded with a refilled tankard by some credulous foreign person on an ill-advised visit to our bell-blasted village?

Dobson came here once. He crashed through the tavern doors, a clumsy adventurer – for he was young then – and jabbered at anyone who would listen that he wanted to go up the hill to the castle, to meet the Gubernat face to face.

  • Quotation from “A History Of The McGuffey Readers” by Henry H Vail
  • The Story of the Lame Dog, The Caged Bird, The Drowned Cat, The Gold Watch, The Whisky Boy and the Insane Boy
  • The Taxonomy of Ducks, Swans and Geese is in a State of Flux
  • Titans of the Silver Screen (Walt Dinsey)
  • Killer Bees: The Mystery Solved
  • A Bag on your Foot
  • Clot (Ferenc Puskas).

The Quotation alluded to in “Clot” from “What Philately Teaches” by John N Luff can be found on the Hooting Yard Web Site, along with a transcript of all the stories in this episode. This show was first broadcast on the 15th of June 2005.

Hooting Yard: How I Plunged Into the Bottomless Viper-Pit of Gaar

For too many years to count I travelled the world visiting bottomless viper-pits. I studied them, sketched them, photographed them, and wrote up lengthy and detailed descriptions of each and every one. My patience is almost inhuman, and it needed to be, because sooner or later some well-meaning numbskull would ask, in relation to this or that bottomless viper-pit, “Tell me, Professor Bindweed, if the viper-pit is bottomless, where in heaven’s name are the vipers?” And each time I would sigh, and give my interlocutor a look of saintly forebearance, and reply, “On ledges, of course, from very near the top and then at intervals of a few feet all the way down!” For in my experience this was invariably the case, from the bottomless viper-pit of O’Houlihan’s Wharf to the bottomless viper-pit of San Christoboole.

Then, one day, armed only with the shreds of a map and a flask of brackish water, I came upon the bottomless viper-pit of Gaar. One thing you must understand is that I had been at this work for so long that very little surprised me anymore. So please do not think I am exaggerating when I say that I was thunderstruck, bedazzled, giddy and incredulous, for I was all those things and more. The amazing thing about the bottomless viper-pit of Gaar was that it had been turned into a sort of tourist attraction. A fence had been placed around it, gigantic gaudy signs flashed on and off, and fairground music blared out of stacks of loudspeakers. To exploit one of the remotest bottomless viper-pits in the world for commercial gain seemed wrong to me, and, suddenly drained of my inhuman patience, I marched up to the person standing behind the counter of the ticket booth.

  • Trumpets and Banners, the complete monologue
  • How I Plunged Into The Bottomless Viper-Pit of Gaar
  • Misprints (errata from the previous testimony)
  • Quotation from “An Account Of The Customs And Manners Of The Micmakis And Maricheets Savage Nations, Now Dependent On The Government Of Cape-Breton”
  • Wafers, Vile and Otherwise
  • A Pedant’s Righteous Nostrums

This episode was first broadcast on June 8th 2005.

Hooting Yard: Dobson on Sport

“In spite of the fact that he had fed his scribblings into the fire, the mere act of writing the words sport and sports two or three times sent Dobson whirling off on a new track. It was a morning of torrential rain, as usual, but Dobson donned a mackintosh and stomped out of the house. He was gone for hours. When he returned, sopping wet, he announced that he intended to write an Encyclopaedia of Sport based on an entirely novel classification. Instead of categorising sports into team and solo games, those using balls and those eschewing them, those that require bats, racquets, sticks and pucks and those that don’t, his work would instead approach the topic from what he called, immodestly, ‘a Dobsonian angle’.

“Swallowing a mouthful of toasted blob-cake, I asked him what he meant. He fixed me with those beady yet watery eyes and announced that he had, while walking along the lane that leads to the ruinous sump, devised six ‘bags’ of sporting activity; spindly, apprehensive, dashing, clotted, baleful and monkey-like. There was no known human sport, he shouted, growing hot with excitement, his arms windmilling, which could not be levered into one of these categories, and his task would be to draw out the ur-characteristics of each pastime.

  • An Outing (to the balsa-wood factory)
  • Swan News (eating swans is unacceptable)
  • Grebe
  • Dobson on Sport
  • Quote from “The Quaker Colonies” by Sydney G Fisher.
  • Quote from “Black Pool For Hell Maidens” by Hal K Wells.
  • Glib Hatter (which also appeared in this episode)
  • Trumpets and Banners (some truncated narration)

This episode was first broadcast on the 1st of June 2005. A complete transcript of “Hooting Yard on the Air” can be found on Frank Key’s official Hooting Yard website.

Hooting Yard: The Rules of the Game

Little is known of the origins of football, a game which is today one of the most popular sports throughout the Northern Lands. According to De Smet [see The Punnet, Vol XVI No.9], football began when tribal elders in the hinterland around Hoon took to mucking about after the annual ritual ostrich-battering. Thumper, on the other hand, has argued in a number of persuasive essays that the sordid practices of a family living in a cave near Bodger’s Spinney were the true origins of the game. Either of these theories may be true, as might thousands upon thousands of others. But let us not tarry in the past.

The rules of football are stupendously complex. The rubric itself fills hundreds of huge volumes, and interpretative texts, analyses and commentaries have accumulated at such a rate that entire libraries are now devoted to the subject. That being the case, it is impractical in this essay to do more than sketch the merest outline. So let us draw breath, take stock, make a cup of tea, twang a ukulele, skip frolicsome thro’ ling and heather, rap curses at hunched louts, sprinkle talc upon our scalps, whisk an egg, brush our teeth, impale a mothball, crack a biscuit, mumble a homily, tie a ship’s knot in a necklace, stoke up the fire, spit on the coals, irk a butcher, crick our necks, stamp on a bee, shovel grit outside the police station, howl at the Wergo, mitigate a plea, fold a crocus, employ a grotesquerie and put a flea in its ear: come follow me as I expound the laws of football.

  • Sidney the Bat is Awarded the Order of Lenin
  • Some extracts from “New Familiar and Progressive English and French Dialogues (With Dialogues on Railway and Steamboat Travelling, and a Comparative Table of Monies and Measure)” by Richard and Quetin
  • The Rules of the Game (The Origins of Football)
  • A translation of the War Song of the Huitznahuac, taken from “Rig Veda Americanus, Sacred Songs of the Ancient Mexicans”, number eight in Brinton’s Library of Aboriginal American Literature, edited by D G Brinton.
  • Pansy The Adept – An introduction to the principles of Goon Fang

This episode was first broadcast on May 25th 2005.

Hooting Yard: The Book of Gnats (re-loaded)

So was a tempest loosed upon the city, and its very fabric uprooted from the mud. Whirling and howling, the city was dispersed upon the firmament, coming to rest none knew where. And the mud spawned all manner of noisome pests, squirming and wriggling to escape the gigantic puddles which were left in the wake of the storm. These were not puddles of water, no, nor of any liquid known to the human mind. And then my eyes saw, standing fiery on a wooden plinth ringed by scum-pools, the obscene figure of Winckelmann. In his left hand he brandished aloft a scrap of burning linoleum. His right hand was made into a fist. As, dribbling, I watched, the fist was slowly opened to reveal a….. I cannot say. I do not know. For just at the moment my peering, watery eyes would have seen that… that thing, I was startled by a toad, which leapt up at my face, and thwacked me on the forehead, leaving an imprint which remains there to this day, like a brand.

  • A history of “The Book of Gnats”
  • Three extracts from “The Book of Gnats”

Hooting Yard: Blodgettesque Farming Methods

Today it is of decisive importance that I tell you about Blodgettesque farming methods. The techniques pioneered by Blodgett in his heyday are breathtaking. Consider, for example, the uses to which a Blodgettian farmer will put hay. There are many, many diagrams in the manual which show bales of hay being commandeered for all sorts of inventive purposes, all over the farmyard, in all six seasons of the year. That’s right, six seasons. One of Blodgett’s most telling innovations was his calendrical recalibration, if I am using the word correctly. Out go winter, spring, summer and autumn, or fall, as they say in Pining & Pothorst Land; in come tally, spate, the time of mighty remonstrations, tack, hub and bolismus. So, come hub come the haywain, as the saying goes, with his big fat boots stuffed with straw? I mean hay.

  • Blodgettesque Farming Methods
  • Life and Loves of the Immersion Man
  • Four extracts from Dobson’s autobiography
  • Petrochemical Shiver-me-Timbers Conclave
  • At home with Tanquod Shuddery (A tale of generosity)
  • A guide to Pointy Town

This episode was first broadcast on May 11th 2005.

Hooting Yard: Cuppid

Cuppid is, as you might expect, related to Cupid, although there is a lot more than that extra P to help you distinguish between them. Cuppid is composed of both toxic and non-toxic gases, and tinkles a little golden bell whenever it alights upon the hairy back of a bison, which it often does, for Cuppid’s favourite haunts are the vast plains of North America. I say it because Cuppid is, if not exactly a hermaphrodite, neither male nor female, although sometimes when its gases cool and take on liquid form it can bear a fugitive resemblance to Sonja Henie (1912-1969), the legendary Norwegian figure skating champion. Such moments can be dangerous for Cuppid, for it is volatile, and seeks warmer air urgently to return to its gaseous state.

  • Mr Bewg’s Reference
  • Two extracts from “A Zest for Crumpled Things”
  • Soup (A Chewist Text)
  • Frustum, Tang, Sluice (An exciting adventure of Confidential Agent Blot)
  • Scenes from the Lives of the Poets Number 1: Maude Abdab
  • Cuppid
  • A Lecture by Canute Hellhound (An extract from “40 Visits to the Worm Farm”)

This episode was first broadcast on 4th May 2005.

Hooting Yard: The Vanquishment of Anaxagrotax

One of the more arresting facts about Dobson is that he spent a five-year period living in an evaporated milk factory in Winnipeg. Such was the hold on him of this location that he devoted no less than sixteen pamphlets to it. According to the statistician Aloysius Nestingbird, Dobson wrote more words about this factory than on any other topic. What was it about the place that exerted such a fascination upon Dobson? How significant is it that, during his stay there, the factory was still functioning, producing thousands of tins of evaporated milk every week, and not, as it is today, an abandoned ruin populated only by screeching birds? Was the workforce aware that the pamphleteer had taken up residence in an unused room on the mezzanine floor, and that he had attached his own design of bolts and latches to the door to prevent his being disturbed? Or that the carefully-lettered sign on the door, reading “S Q Perkins, Janitorial Padré”, was a fake of Dobson’s devising?

  • Anaxagrotax
  • Pontiff Mnemonic
  • Pale Flapper (A Love Story)
  • The Blot Family
  • Starlings
  • Dobson In Residence (An evaporated milk factory in Winnipeg)
  • The Tale of Gaspard
  • Excessive Revolver Shooting and Other Matters

This episode was first broadcast on April 27th 2005.