A PARTY?
~BALLS.FIL~
=======
A PARTY
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Get prepared for a nonsense article again, because I've just been to the 
toilet and I'd like to share some amusing text with you which I read in 
that small room. It's from Douglas Adams' brilliant novel 'Life, the 
Universe and Everything', which I am reading for the third time at the 
moment (because it's SO GOOD!!!). I might probably add some more details 
later, but I'm afraid I won't be able to keep my motivation up much longer 
and it would be such a shame...

Chapter 21

The longest and most destructive party ever held is now in its fourth 
generation and still no one shows any signs of leaving. Somebody did once 
look at his watch, but that was eleven years ago now, and there has been no 
follow-up.
The mess is extraordinary, and has to be seen to be believed, but if you 
don't have any particular need to believe it, then don't go and look, 
because you won't enjoy it.
There have recently been some bangs and flashes up in the clouds, and there 
is one theory that is a battle being fought between the fleets of several 
rival carpet-cleaning companies who are hovering over the thing like 
vultures, but you shouldn't believe anything you hear at parties, and 
particularly not anything you hear at this one.
One of the problems, and it's one which is obviously going to get worse, is 
that all the people at the party are either the children or the 
grandchildren or the great-grandchildren of the people who wouldn't leave 
in the first place, and because of all the business about selective 
breeding and regressive genes and so on, it means that all the people now 
at the party are either absolutely fanatical partygoers, or gibbering 
idiots, or, more and more frequently, both.
Either way, it means that, genetically speaking, each succeeding generation 
is now less likely to leave than the preceding one.
So other factors come into operation, like when the drink is going to run 
out.

Now, because of certain things which have happened which seemed like a good 
idea at the time (and one of the problems with a party which never stops is 
that all the things which only seem like a good idea at parties continue to 
seem like good ideas), that point seems still to be a long way off.
One of the things which seemed like a good idea at the time was that the 
party should fly - not in the normal sense that parties are meant to fly, 
but literally.

One night, long ago, a band of drunken astro-engineers of the first 
generation clambered round the building digging this, fixing that, banging 
very hard on the other, and when the sun rose the following morning, it was 
startled to find itself shining on a building full of happy drunken people 
which was now floating like a young and uncertain bird over the treetops.
Not only that, but the flying party had also managed to arm itself rather 
heavily. If they were going to get involved in any petty arguments with 
wine merchants, they wanted to make sure they had might on their side.
The transition from full-time cocktail party to part-time raiding party 
came with ease, and did much to add that extra bit of zest and swing to the 
whole affair which was badly needed at this point because of the enormous 
number of times that the band had already played all the numbers it knew 
over the years.

HAVOC IN 1994 (AND NOT IN FULL EFFECT)

WRITE TO:
HAVOC/GIANTS
RAVENSTRAAT 4
6909 DV BABBERICH
THE NETHERLANDS
 