GOVELLER’S TRAVELS

The deputy-emperor of Lilliput comes to see the author in his confinement.

At sunrise I arrived at the city gates; but the officers would by no means suffer the six-inch deputy-majesty to endanger his person, so I only saw the exterior of Boris’s mini-bar.

It was reckoned above a hundred thousand inhabitants came out upon the same errand; and there could not be fewer than ten thousand who mounted my body by the help of ladders to look at my Jedward tattoo, until a proclamation was issued to forbid such disobedience upon pain of

being over-promoted to high-office. Where the carriage stopped there stood an ancient Airbus factory, esteemed to be the largest in the kingdom; which upon Lilliprexit had been left empty and according to the zeal of those people looked upon as profane. In this edifice

it was determined I should lodge. With as melancholy a disposition as ever I had since my honeymoon, I had been for some hours extremely pressed by the necessities of nature, Lady M’s insistence on our doing The Atkins seeing that it was at least three days since I had last

disburdened myself. I was under great difficulties between urgency and shame, as if determining whether or not to put tax-payer funded contracts on Ofqual’s disastrous examinations strategy out to tender, or simply bung them to my mollusc-like friends instead; the best

expedient I could think of was to go to my doorstep, and there discharge my body of that uneasy job. I did the same in Lilliput. The noise and astonishment of the people are not to be countenanced, but unlike Westminster, this was the only time I was ever guilty of so

uncleanly an action, and I would not have dwelt so long upon it if I had not thought it necessary to justify my character; which, I am told, some of my maligners have been pleased, upon this and other occasions, to call in question; for which I cannot but hope the candid reader

will give some allowance, after he has maturely and impartially considered my case, that when you elect frothers like myself to high office, you have to allow for the mightiest levels of Faustian dishonesty;

The burden I must bear is that unlike my colleagues on the dissembly line, I am bright enough to know my soul is sold.

Aug 1727

With many thanks to @Michelangela75 for sourcing this image!

Govellar will return on Monday!