Tuesday, February 19, 2013

The second shoe

While on Valentine's Day allegedly there was a rising of one (!) billion, for the past ten days the world (sic!)  held its breath, and thus – amongst others – almost seven (!) billion human beings.
Amazing, of course,  that so many survived not breathing for such a long time; well, apart from some civilians being so stupid to let themselves blow to pieces by a peaceful drone made in God owns peace-loving country and sent on its way by a peace-loving hero (!) sitting thousands of kilometres away; apart from some peace-loving Shiites blowing some Sunni to pieces and some peace loving Sunni blowing some Shiites to pieces (it is almost always a matter of perspective, isn't it?), and a few women that have been taught by four or six or ten masculine 'superiors' who's the pride of creation, before  being set on fire or pierced by an iron pipe etc. etc. pp., and apart from those who did not happen to learn that the owner of this blog has been eaten by a panther. Obviously.


Canadian commenter Claude (Sean would have loved this tiny alliteration) from her experience as a nurse thought the bones are not human and thus not seanish. 
Don QuiScottie, according to Sergeant Pluck, "obviously" tried to scatter several red herrings within one comment.
sync wondered what happened to the second shoe.

According to Sergeant Pluck, only Mijnheer Pieters gave helpful hints, and commenter Susan's criminalistic instinct ("The game's afoot! Keep in mind conspiracy between panther and Quiscottie can't yet be ruled out.");
But I am digressing a tiny bit. Why would there have been no news for almost a fortnight?

Well, not to jeopardise or rather to pantherise the inquiery, Sergeant Pluck had imposed a gag order.  However, today I am able to show you some results.

By following Mijnheer Pieters' hint and thus scrutinising all treetops in and around Seanhenge, Sergeant Pluck and his colleague McCruiskeen found 

Sean's trousers
Obviously our friend tried to climb this beech to escape the panthers's fangs, but ...

Three quarters of a mile from here, the Sergeants detected ...

... the second shoe.

Was it possible, Sergeant Pluck and Sergeant McCruiskeen asked themselves, that the panther, anticipating Mijnheer Pieters' hint ("Panthers always drag their booty to a tree or another high place where hyenas cannot come.") buried his booty in this bunker?

Inspecting closer ...

the sergeants' attention was caught by a white flag.
Following their instinct approaching hole 7 of the very golf course ...

.... they detected ...
Sean's worrystone.
Asked Sergeant Pluck: "Who putted Sean? The panther or Don QuiScottie??

The case will be solved. Hopefully soon.

As missing Sean would perhaps have written:

The peace of the night.


  1. This must be the first time in history that a human has tried to implicate a panther and a Noble Don in a crime that has not (yet) occurred. I suspect it will be the last time in history too. Truly these are unique events.

  2. Ah Ha!

    May I present the following evidence, digitally imprinted beneath this post:

    "Posted by Sean Jeating at 23:22"

    Not a very convincing disappearance then, obviously...

  3. Ahem! esteemed Don QuiScottie (at least by missing Sean; Sergeant Pluck is not that sure!)

    For this or that reason you seem to have either not taken notice of or forgotten that February 7th I, Tetrapilotomos, posted:

    "As he would not have liked to see such headlines in the mass media the owner of this blog, before going on his obviously last quest left a notice for me with both the password for Omnium and the request to discretely inform his friends in case something mysterious would happen to him."
    That much for your evidence, Don QuiScottie.
    May rather the peace of the night be with you than Sergeant Pluck being after you.

  4. There appears to be neither blood on trousers nor dismembered foot in shoe. Unless this was the most efficient panther on the planet, accompanied by a pack of fastidious hyenas, the evidence still points to QuiScottie. In all fairness the latter may just have sent poor Sean on holiday to Majorca where he'd have no need of heavy trousers or all weather boots.

  5. "the evidence still points to QuiScottie"

    Evidence? I pity the poor person to be judged by a jury that dear Susan ever sits on :)

    Although apparently Don QuiScottie was last seen riding off in an antigravity device piloted by a certain alien called Aileen. Could this be significant?

  6. All I hope is to find our dear Sean alive and well in some sort of interesting, peaceful hide-away. I'm sending Miss Marples to help Sergeant Pluck to unveil the mystery.

    I doubt QuickScot had anything to do with it all.

  7. Andrew, as Holmes himself said, "The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes."

    That book does sound like an entertaining one. If Sean has gone off with Aileen I'm sure all is well.

  8. Ah, yes! No blood! A good sign! Perhaps our Sean has indeed just run away! I hope he's somewhere nice.

  9. Sean just posted a page recently saying that blogging was boring.

    That ain't boring, Sean. ;)

  10. Susan said... "If Sean has gone off with Aileen I'm sure all is well"

    Hmm... I'm not so sure about that. I do hope his grizzled visage is not mistaken for that of a Homud, though to make sense of that you would have to read the (inexpensive) e-book :)

  11. Ach, Andrew. I would surely purchase a printed copy but, alas, I suffer grave misgivings about e-books. Why, I wonder, did Amazon choose to name theirs for a means to start fires?

    Meanwhile, I continue to hope our dear friend Sean is safe somewhere even if he hasn't tootled off with Aileen.

  12. I do usually not use that word so soon, but as I detect(ed) you as one of missing Sean's 'Seldom Borings' I think poor old Sean would like me to address you as DEAR Susan, which herewith is done.
    Being specialised on pre-Assyrian philately I do have to rely on Hamlet and Sergeant Pluck. The latter only recently told me that the noose around Don Qui Scottie seems to tighten.
    "With hindsight", said Sergeant Pluck, "he made himself a suspect in advance, when – obviously!! – writing with a malicious grin:
    'Eh... The Panther would not be bothered about the little bird... he'd be too busy eating you mate, and spitting out the camera as he ate... Obviously.'"
    [See comment section here].]

    Checking the Don's personality, profiler Pluck moreover found out that Don QuiScottie, for a while pretending to be on the quest to fight windmills, smilies and typos, suddenly started to announce he'd from now on whack happiness in everyone's head.
    Well, and then his so-called little friends took command of the bald, tall Scotsman.
    "There are but two possibilities", Sergeant Pluck only a couple of minutes ago murmured. "Either this man who, by the way, so far used uncounted nom de guerres, to impress a sexy female alien named Aileen, by misusing his knowledge of chemistry made a harmless panther eat Sean; or he who, despite his sometimes weird words, by missing Sean obviously was considered a gifted writer, good character and although they never met personally, kind of a friend is ... innocent."
    As for Majorca in winter: Had Don QuiScottie sent him there, Sean would not call himself 'poor'. Definitely.

    Andrew the Scot,
    you are not off the hook, yet. So mind your words!

    Madame Claude, Mrs Marple and Mr. Stringer would certainly be able to solve the mystery within 90 minutes.

    Dear Susan,
    you have succumbed to the Don's charme. Obviously.

    Syncopated Eyeball,
    no blood indicates nothing per se. According to Sergeant Pluck very probably poor Sean's blood has curdled /frozen when he saw what he saw.

    Interesting, Claude, that you don't find boring that Sean's been eaten by a panther.

    god-free morals, or rather Chris, as I detected that you are – obviously– a special friend of missing Sean:
    Sometimes philosophers are not (entirely) wrong. :)

    Don Qui Scottie,
    as I am just about finishing proof-reading the 1669 pages of my "pre-Assyrian Philately in a Nutshell": Would you say your kind of self advertisement is promising?
    If your e-book is 'inexpensive': Is it worth reading then?

    No attack!
    Readers: discuss.

  13. Well now... the "e-book" is by Andrew MacLaren-Scott, another splinter of a fractured personality some may say... and Dear Susan, it is also available from many outlets as a pdf file if that may be close enough to "printed" for you (or for PC Windows or Mac using the "Fire Starter's" free software for PC. Is it worth the mere few pounds or euros or dollars? Who am I to say, but several emails (including from Dear Claude) would seem to suggest so. In writing it, the good Andrew MacLaren-Scott was trying to assist me in my quest to whack happiness in heads, that is... it is funny (I am assured by some readers). Hah... Have I managed to sneak a spam advertisement into Sean's blog? The only one? Will the Panther eat it? Some readers have even recommended it to their friends, the fools...

  14. Aileen the Alien is a fascinating story, which I've been able to download in my computer. I am breathlessly waiting for the sequel.

    It might be sad but it's not boring to be eaten by a panther. It's definitely a not banal way to go.

  15. "it's not boring to be eaten by a panther"

    Now THAT is what I call managing to put a positive gloss on things.

    I'll try to remember, whichever way I go, to think, "Oh well, I suppose it could have been more boring than this..."

    Unless I die of boredom, of course.