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 ggg                "DAY TRIPPING WITH THE LORD DUNSANY"               ggg
 $$                             by -> AIDS                            $$
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 $$        [ HOE E-Zine #952 -- 12/14/99 -- http://www.hoe.nu ]     .,$$
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                                 heave! ho!
                                 to and fro

	OK, so you gotta picture it, we needed (we being me, Jarett, and
 my pal Andrew) to get out of Dublin, and FAST. Andrew'd been babbling
 about going to Castle Dunsany for a long time, years really, and it was
 part of his itinerary. I figured I'd tag along for the ride. Ok, cool.
	The first thing you need to do is find where the local commuter
 buses in Dublin leave from. I no longer remember where this was, but we
 found the bus station fairly easy. Next we needed to locate our bus. Fair
 enough. Easy enough. OK, we get our tickets and our backpacks and all our
 shit and we get on the bus.
	Now, somehow or other, Andrew knew the bus wouldn't stop at
 Dunsany, maybe he read it in a tour book or something, but anyway, we had
 to ask the bus driver to specifically stop at the town of Dunsany. Well,
 he told us that he didn't know where it was. OK, we figure, fine, he'll
 just see it on the way and stop there.
	As the bus rides along, suddenly an entire chorus of Dubliners
 grows angry and starts screaming, "ISN'T IT DUNSANY YOU BE WANTING?" "YOU
 JUST MISSED DUNSANY!" So the bus driver screeches the bus to a lumbering
 halt. We got to the front of the bus and he informs us, "This is as far
 as you'll be going to Dunsany on this bus. That signs points the way and
 you'll have to walk the rest." Fair enough, we say, and I tell the bus
 driver to wait before he pulls out, because we've stashed our backpacks
 in the back of the bus. So we pull our backpacks (translation: our entire
 lives) out of the back and I wave to the driver and he pulls off, and
 we're left there in the middle of nowhere.
	The first thing we need to do is piss. We find some overgrown
 fence area, and take turns pissing behind it. Me first, then Andrew. OK,
 woo hoo! Our bladders are drained. So we looked up at the sign and the
 sign is pointing down a lonely and empty road, and that road leads to
 DUNSANY.
	We start walking down it, heave and ho! We're excited! We're gonna
 go to Castle Dunsany, home of the BARON LORD DUNSANY, that amazing
 fantasy writer who inspired Lovecraft so deeply. How could we want
 anything else?  Yes, god, yes, We love the LORD DUNSANY and we love his
 castle!
	Walking down that wacky road, we suddenly hear a car pull up aside
 us. I look over into the car and there's some crazy old Irish man, and he
 says, "You need a ride?" I hop in the back seat and Andrew grabs the
 front.
	He asks Andrew where we're going and Andrew says, "Castle
 Dunsany!"
	"Do you know anyone at the castle?"
	"No," says Andrew.
	"Why are you going to the Castle?"
	"Well," sez Andrew, "I'm really interested in the Lord Baron
Dunsany, the writer."
	The Irish freak! A burst of laughter erupts from him! "Hahahah!
 You're just going to go knock on the door of the Castle and say 'I'm very
 interested in the Lord Baron Dunsany, the writer!'? Hahahahah! They'll be
 like 'FUG OFF!' hahahahahah! FUG OFF! hahahahaha! FUG OFF! hahahah!"
	This literally continues for ten minutes until he gets us to the
 gates of the castle. I have to say, that man was one of the best people
 I've ever met in my entire life. No question. No question at all. So we
 get to the Castle Dunsany, we're at the castle gates, and we just walk
 in.  Andrew's really excited.
	The estate is pretty large and palatial. We see the castle in the
 far distance, and it's /hideously/ modern. Castles like this are
 scattered all over the UK & Ireland. They apparently were very vogue at
 some point after the common conception of THE CASTLE was formed, (i.e.,
 sometime after feudalism.) I'm not sure, but I think I was expecting
 more.
	Through a bunch of overgrown trees and we bushes we catch the
 glimpse of some old ruin, and we decide (without any evidence) that THIS
 must be the old Castle Dunsany. Which is entirely possible, to be honest.
 But it's also possible it isn't! Whatever! Who cares!? We decide to storm
 the castle and go running around in the ruins! That's the way men are
 made GODS!
	Pushed through all the overgrown hedges! Pushed through trees and
 bramble! Almost get assaulted (not the first nor the last time) by a cow!
 We get into the ruins! It's totally stark barren! There's nothing here
 except a bunch of tombs! One of which, btw, was an amazingly interesting
 stone from /quite/ a while ago, which held both a Lord and his Lady.
 Bas-reliefs of the two were carved on their sarcophogus. How weird! We
 find the grave of one of The LOrd Baron Dunsany Edward Draxton Plunkett
 Something something ARgyll Fantasy writer's son! We feel bad for a minute
 or two and then we're done witht his place! We've climbed every possible
 staircase and examined all the graves! Now we must go conquer those
 miserable wretches in the REAL CASTLE DUNSANY! WE climb out of the ruins,
 we climb out of the overgrown foliage and past that awful cow.
	Now we trek towards the REAL CASTLE DUNSANY! It's an amazingly
 huge building! Jesus fucking Christ, it's big! The Lord Baron Dunsany
 must have had some good times here. We get to the door, and Andrew takes
 over, smooth talker that he is. HE rings the doorbell. An old Irish
 harridan answers the door and says, "YES?"
	Andrew says, "Well, we're here for a tour of the castle!"
	Her little wiener dog runs up to the door and starts barking.
	"Tours? Tours are at 11am to 3pm. It's 5pm now."
	"Oh, tomorrow then?"
	"Yes, tomorrow. May I ask why you're interested in the castle?"
	"We're interested in the Lord Baron Dunsany! The writer! Do you
 have much of him here?"
	"We have a portrait. That's it."
	"Nothing else?"
	"No."
	The dog's going crazy, he's smashing himself against the door. He
 wants out.
	"Oh well then," says Andrew, "see you tomorrow."
	The woman lets the dog out! It's a little wiener dog! It's coming
 at me! It's trying to bite my heels! I take a picture! Then I pick it up
 in my arms and pet its stomach and let it down. It runs with us for a
 while and then runs back to the Castle Dunsany.
	"Well," I say to Andrew, "that sucks. What do you want to do now?"
	"I dunno," he replies.
	"Well, according to the map, the Hill of Tara is real close by. We
 could just go there and sleep on it."
	So we did. We went to the Hill of Tara and slept on that
 neo-lithic pagan burial mound.
	and that's how I went to the castle dunsany.  

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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS!               HOE #952, BY AIDS - 12/14/99 ]
[ Dedicated to Nyarlathotep!   Because I love that crazy HPL motherfucker! ]