The Short Attention Span Book

By Gunnar Alutalu

A significant segment of the world’s literate population prefers their reading material in short, zippy, punchy sections.
This collection of literary tidbits is deliberately disorganized in an effort to hold the reader’s attention. Should the reader find a particular story devoid of interest, he will soon come to the end of it and stumble on something that might appeal to him or her.
No serious effort has been made to be scientifically, historically or grammatically correct.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365390678

Book preview

The Short Attention Span Book

THE SHORT ATTENTION SPAN BOOK

By

Gunnar Alutalu

ABOUT THE BOOK

A significant segment of the world’s literate population prefers their reading material in short, zippy, punchy sections.

This collection of literary tidbits is deliberately disorganized in an effort to hold the reader’s attention. Should the reader find a particular story devoid of interest, he will soon come to the end of it and stumble on something that might appeal to him or her.

No serious effort has been made to be scientifically, historically or grammatically correct.

So, here goes…

About the Author

Gunnar Alutalu was born in 1933 in the small Baltic country of Estonia. Having become a refugee during the Second World War, he experienced first-hand the insecurities and deprivations that wartime conditions bring.

Nevertheless, he also had many agreeable and happy experiences and had the opportunity to travel, learn new languages and come to a greater appreciation of other cultures.

He landed as an immigrant to Canada in 1949.

He studied welding engineering and worked in this field.

He lives in Quebec City. 

Limerick Lane

A man once deplaned in Chicago,

Who looked like the Doctor Zhivago.

It was Omar Shariff.

And frozen half stiff,

His suitcases lost with the cargo.

His overcoat landed in Ghana,

The rest of his stuff in Botswana.

Through snowstorm and sleet

He wandered the street,

Dressed like an African B’wana.

The story does have a sad closure.

The papers have made this disclosure:

He’s sitting in jail,

Arranging for bail,

Accused of indecent exposure.

*

There once was a man from Bordeaux

Whose story I’ll sheoux you beleaux.

His vineyard did groaux

Which gave him some doaux,

Which doaux he proceeded to bloaux.

He’s had some hard knox,

He’s got holes in his sox.

His life is a hard roeaux to hoeaux.

He’s out in the snoeaux

With nowhere to goeaux.

How much does he oweaux, I don’t knoeaux.

*

Do you really speak English?

Many people speak English, but not always very well. In order to improve our language, my wife and I are using our dictionaries more. The results speak for themselves.

As proof of the amazing improvement, let me describe what occurred recently.

My wife asked me to see if we had any cabbage in the refrigerator.

I looked and answered: At the present moment in the stream of time, no discernible evidence of the plain-leaved, hearted variety of Brassica oleracea could be detected.

She answered: I visualize. Under the circumstances, would you please introduce your material frame into your wheeled vehicle, proceed to the nearest repository and procure by means of money the required plant for culinary purposes. While there, obtain and return with a bottle of the whitish fluid secreted by female mammals for the nourishment of their young.

I responded along the following lines: Unable to comply, since our wheeled conveyance was repossessed by the vending agency the day immediately preceding today.

She then advised me: Such being the case under consideration, you find yourself under obligation to revert to the traditional ambulatory method of advancement.

I responded in the affirmative, and, possessing parts of the leg which tread the ground, two of them, I set these into alternative motion, ---left and its similar yet opposite partner, right.

Subsequently, when back in the room where food is cooked, I rendered assistance to the human female to whom I am related in marriage, by stripping the skin off some edible farinaceous tubers.

Consequent to the repast, I oversaw the lavement of the broad, shallow, open vessels used in serving up food on tables.

Pursuant to the mastication of aliments, we drew near to the long, stuffed couch with raised back and ends and set ourselves in a resting posture with the body nearly vertical, supported on the buttocks.

Thereafter we perceived by our eyes the transmission of visual images by radio in such rapid succession that on a screen at our end was presented a picture of the event as it actually occurred.

She thereafter grilled me by means of questions: Would you like your fermented aqueous infusion of malt and hops in a vessel of hard, transparent substance, formed by fusing together mixtures of the silicates of soda, lime, magnesia alumina and lead?

I responded: No, thank you, my sweet viscid product collected from plants by bees! A vessel with narrow neck for holding liquids will do.

After bringing me the beer in a bottle, rather than in a glass, she carried on without undue interruption: Would you like some curd of milk pressed into a solid mass and ripened by ageing, accompanied by thin, brittle, hard-baked biscuits?

Yes, I would love some cheese and crackers, I said, temporarily relapsing into uneducated English.

In this manner the period from sunset to bed-time proceeded. Eventually, my mouth opened wide involuntarily through drowsiness, boredom, bewilderment, etc. It had been a toilsome solar day and I had exhausted my strength by labour.

Ultimately, we were stretched out on an article of domestic furniture to sleep upon and breathed through the mouth and nostrils with a hoarse noise.

The next morning, I heard my wife’s voice from the kitchen announcing: I am having an ovum of birds, enclosed in a spherical cell, along with the back of a pig, cured by salting and drying, with or without wood-smoke. Would you like the same?

Yes, my sweet crystalline substance obtained from the expressed juice of various plants, such as sugar-cane or the beet, I vocalized. "But, instead of bacon, I would prefer the popular article of food consisting of pork, minced, seasoned and stuffed into a length of an animal’s gut or