On The Trail Of The Forgers

[Ally]

Oh look, this hoax comes complete with color illustrations. At least Powell's hoax has one up on the Diary hoax.

Do you think he's trying to outdo his imaginary friend in their imaginary "create a hoax" competition?

[Steve Powell]

Granada in Cronulla.

Howdy Troopers,
Now that there is a bit of peace here again,
here is a photo of where our illustrious Hoaxer
was living for a while.
Here, he and Anne Graham spent time composing the diary.
Their flat is the lower one.
The building is called of all things: Granada.
The photo is courtesy of Victoria.

[Ben]

The Dumpadee Poo line had me in stitches.

That's because she stole it from me, Mike.

Oompa Loompa Doompadee dah
Feed the cops nonsense, and you'll go far.
You will live at liberty too
And escape a world of doompadee-poo

Written by me on 18th March 2009:

http://forum.casebook.org/showpost.php?p=75352&postcount=8

I expect credit in future if people want to use my comedy.

[The Good Michael]

Caz,

The Dumpadee Poo line had me in stitches. I think I've read that 'diary' before. Oh yeah, the Hutch thread.

Mike

[Steve Powell]

She who must be boring...

For God's sake Morris, go away!
You're the ultimate boring, gummed mouth mashing person
that's ever come to this thread.
Begone you old fishwife!

[Ben]

So everyone packed their bags and deserted you shortly after my own last visit

Looks like it.

What a bummer, eh?

Still, it's not all doom and gloom, as this thread can attest to.

The moment one opportunity for numpty-smacking disappears, another one presents itself, so here I am. I'm still laughing at your futile attempts to bring Big Bad Ben down a peg or two, and I'm still guffawing at you for your eternally unsuccessful "proofreading" antics, although I'm certainly not alone there.

And I'm sorry to shatter another illusion, but I fondly recall your hero Martin Fido taking the piss out of someone years ago for misusing the word 'fulsome' in the way you did

I have no idea what Fido said, but I know for a fact that your criticism was wrong, and by referring to your clumsiness over and over, you sink deeper and deeper into the mire of your own making, despite assuring me that you were the spider who was about to "undo" me.

[caz]

By my reckoning I'm only up to page 237 on the 1911 thread...

Blimey Ben! That thread is still on 237 pages. So everyone packed their bags and deserted you shortly after my own last visit. Ah, poor you. And you still got the whole 'resisting the temptation to post' thing completely arse about face.

Are you still willing to pay me a million pounds to resist the temptation to ignore you? Think about this v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y and you might eventually appreciate your own howler.

Look, I'll make it even easier for you. I'm pretty sure you meant to say that people would find it hard to resist responding to you, even for a million pounds. But what you actually said was the opposite.

Of course, that's exactly what seems to have happened on the 1911 thread. Everyone decided they just couldn't resist the thought of ignoring you completely and leaving you to talk to yourself.

And I'm sorry to shatter another illusion, but I fondly recall your hero Martin Fido taking the piss out of someone years ago for misusing the word 'fulsome' in the way you did. That's what made it even funnier.

Love,

Caz
X

[Ben]

I think you'll find you are the one slavishly following me on this thread, presumably because you're missing me so much elsewhere. It was Good Michael who mentioned the H word here in post

And I responded - to the Good Michael. Not you.

Then you made a beeline for me by announcing that you were the mean ol' spider, and I was the fly, ready to be "outdone" - a prediction than cannot help but amuse, given its failure.

Don't keep picking these unwinnable fights with me in the middle of nowhere, and who knows, we could have something beautiful.

I'm really not trying to condemn Hutchinson.

I entertain reasonable and realistic suspicions against him that I hope to be disabused of in the fullness of time when more evidence comes to light, and if a spurious objection to his candidacy is raised in the meantime, I consider it only fair to respond to it.

All the best,
Ben

[caz]

Methinks I touched a nerve there.

I think you'll find you are the one slavishly following me on this thread, presumably because you're missing me so much elsewhere. It was Good Michael who mentioned the H word here in post #674, and one click of my bony old fingers brought you running like the clappers to try your hand at granny-grabbing.

By my reckoning I'm only up to page 237 on the 1911 thread and page 8 on the Hutch statement thread. I have no idea how many more pages have appeared since then. But who am I to spoil your pathetic little delusions of grandeur?

Anyway, while I am grabbing your attention here in the basement, where your audience is made up of a few cobwebs and a bored earwig, the male half of the Chuckle Twins, trying to flog his royal ripper theory, is losing attention and he ain't a happy bunny - so it's not all bad.

Love,

Caz
X

PS And you still don't get it, do you? While I'm busy trying to clear James Maybrick's name (do you even know what burlesque means in this context?) you are presumably still hell-bent on condemning a man who, for all you know, never hurt a sodding fly. So get real, clear the muck out of your own stable and stop telling lies about me that even Hutch would find a bit much.

[Ben]

Look sweetness, there could be a million like you

Hmmm....yes, less of the "sweetness" please.

I realise you delight to follow me around all over the place, mentioning me whenever you get an opportunity (it was particularly hilarious to discover you fixating about me on a daily basis on a forum I don't even contribute to!). Things got a little out of hand when you starting admitting to having daydreams about me wearing a codpiece, but I even let that go.

It's all getting a bit tragic now, though.

And I still can't reciprocate that crush.

I realise you are deeply insecure about your own writing abilities, as that issue too crops up in just about every contribution you ever make. It usually results in you making some outrageous gaffe which exposes your ignorance and leaves the rest of us wondering if some teacher made you miserable about it when you were at school.

But funny you should mention diaries. I've just found one myself!

I popped in for a spot of sustenance at Abrakebabra in Shirley, Croydon, the other day, and what should Betty Bingo Wings and Sally Saddle Bags produce from behind the counter but the diary of their old chum.

Here's an extract:

Sod it. Sod it. Sod it. He shall not outdo me. I do yearn for him so, but since he will not reciprocate, I will play teacher and point out perceived errors and typos. They all ridicule me for this, I know, but so what? I'll do it to ALL of them. Ahah! "Uppermost" - that's not a word, the foolish fool. Oh curse and bugger it - it is! Aha "fulsome" he says! Errm...dammit where was I going with that one?

I took refreshment in the Slug and Lettuce and decided: Maybrick it must be. And why not? Is he not the ideal candidate? A titillating toff who commuted into that abyss like a cunning fox? The thought of it thrills me so. But I will not make it obvious. I will be clever - very clever. Well, transparently evasive more like, but we'll stick with clever! Hutchinson? Local nondescripts as rippers? My answer is no, and that foolish fool will rue the day he made the suggestion. I will even use my offspring as weapons against him. Ha ha

Whinge whinge whinge - Mark Papazian! - whinge whinge, double winge - futile pretense at knowing about serial killers - whinge whinge whinge.

A typo here. A type there.

His prose annoyed me, so I cut it off....

But wait - a funny little rhyme will come forth!

Could it be that the bastard who loves to annoy
By insisting that Hutch is our man
Is aware that Sir Jim is the Real McCoy?
Though I speak as a Rippertoff fan.

Could it be that the bastard unleashes his wrath,
When I goad him on Hutchinson threads?
He will tear me to bits. He will foam, he will froth.
How I love being at loggerheads!

Could it be that the bastard is banned evermore
Leaving me to talk crap unassailed?
I will dominate threads with fresh nonsense; be sure.
He will learn that his mission has failed.

Could it be that the bastard makes haste to discuss
Other cases, enhancing his cause?
I will feign greater knowledge and kick up a fuss.
What a way to enjoy menopause!

There are other extracts if you want them.

All the best,
Ben

[Sam Flynn]

You know, what I like about you is that we can fuss and fight and argue about all sorts but it's never ever taken personally. Ditto my friend. I'm looking forward to hearing your magnificent Tit Willow again in October.

Thank you, Caz, m'dear! Reciprocated.

PS: I'll be more than happy to get me - erm - Willows out again

[caz]

Look sweetness, there could be a million like you, for all I know or care, who don't understand the meaning of 'I don't condone what the diary author did' and find it 'confusing nonsense'. But for what it's worth I didn't think I needed to dumb down any further than I do already when addressing you.

Now I'm going to address everyone, with a very strange riddle that has been liberally sprinkled with more clarity than you may have been asking for.

The year is 2109 and an unemployed film extra called Ike Carrot claims that a dead pal left him the diary of an armchair detective from a hundred years ago. It soon gets published as The Diary of a Hutch Raider and merry hell breaks loose.

See what you make of the text that was handed to me just now by an impatient Dr Who, who can’t be doing with all that ‘time reveals all’ stuff and nonsense:

I’m down on all who dare question me blah blah or my command of English but I no they can’t keep quite and love giving me the chance to copy and paste again and indeed the very thought of them doing battle with me gives me the upmost thrill blah blah blah.

They can bear there fulsome fangs but on balence anyone with half a mind can see threw Hutchinson’s surly Jew. It’s stinkingly obvious blah blah spiking there guns in advance blah blah blah then forced to talk too the papers in order to sure up his pile of bogus witness nonsense with even more bogus witness nonsense.

The parsimonious conclusion is that the Ripper was not being wreckless and had no option but to do his dirties on Mother Kelly’s doorstep. No lodging house inmate could afford choice cuts blah blah so he could of cooked and ate his human offal in the kitchen and blended in with no problem at all blah blah blah. So I, Lord Dover, will cut and paste that damned Fishyman until his ears squeak if he gives me any more Toppy trouble blah blah.

I’ll have Fishy
On a little dishy
Posts a steaming pile of poo
Which I just love the chance to chew

I'll confuse
With a ruse
Using Hutch’s surly Jew -s

Oompa Loompa Dumpadee doo
Lord Dover has more work to do
Oompa Loompa Dumpadee dee
If the world is wise it will listen to me
Oompa Loompa Dumpadee dah
I’ll feed the boards daily without going far
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
Take a few liberties, don’t mind if I do
It’s my wonderful world of Dumpadee poo

-------------------------------

It’s Toppy that will finish me
It’s Toppy that I will regret
Yours truly
Bill the Hutch Raider 2009

-------------------------------

Now I don’t care what anyone says, but this is most assuredly not the work of any reasonably literate early 21st century armchair detective of sound mind or sober habits - apart from perhaps a slightly hopeless Hutch-fingering habit.

But could it just be another OTT grotesque burlesque, like wot the Maybrick Diary appears to have been?

I leave others to ponder this vexing question.

See ya. Wouldn't wanna be ya.

Love,

Caz
X

[Ben]

Since you are the only one who thinks I was 'speaking in strange riddles' when I said that I didn't condone what the diary author did

How would you know that I was the only one who thought so? For all you know, there could have been several people wondering what on earth you were wittering on about, but couldn't be arsed to pursue the matter any further. You must learn self-scrutiny. Rather than convincing yourself time and time again than anyone who misinterprets your confusing nonsense must be "simple" (which I know full well is less reflective of your true stance than it is of a desire to be as irritating as possible), try a liberal sprinkling of clarity next time around in order that these "misinterpretations" can be avoided again in future.

[caz]

King of Fools

A rather ribald a cappella ditty written by Mozart for him and his beery friends to sing, Leck mich im Arsch:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHIw-ZfbDSQ

Translated roughly, it goes, "There's no point in grumbling, so lick my arse and be happy". The piece is, as musical Ripperologists will spot straightaway, in the form of a Canon

How deliciously tasteful, Sam. We don't even need Suzi's spoons. Let the licking commence!

You know, what I like about you is that we can fuss and fight and argue about all sorts but it's never ever taken personally. Ditto my friend. I'm looking forward to hearing your magnificent Tit Willow again in October.

Morning Caz,

It's not a question of "dumbing down". It's a question of you making yourself a little clearer first time around. Clarity is an essential trait for anyone interested in good written communication, whereas speaking in strange riddles that leave you vulnerable to misinterpretation is not.

Afternoon Ben,

Since you are the only one who thinks I was 'speaking in strange riddles' when I said that I didn't condone what the diary author did, and you managed to do the worst interpretation job in the world by accusing me of saying that James Maybrick deserved what the diary author did, it absolutely must be a question of my having to dumb down just for your benefit.

Either that or you get the wrong end of the stick on purpose so you can bash me with it, unaware that it just makes you look a trifle simple. If I'm vulnerable to misinterpretation by the simple, it's a cross that many would pay good money to bear.

If there are any profits from the book quaser, I think I might buy a bag of locoweed and try and forget about this casebook completely.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

So Stevie Baby, you think it's even remotely possible that you might see profits from your book? Welcome to the club where we all stand accused of trying to rip off the public over the sodding diary. Not enough in the coffers for a couple of porn films or a bath plug.

And I'm sorry, but your 'cry wolf' track record is so well documented that you can hardly blame anyone for believing you have been backing a royal conspiracy theory all along.

On your own right royal head be it.

Love,

Caz
X

[Sam Flynn]

Do you think you could have put "lick me" by mistake?

A rather ribald a cappella ditty written by Mozart for him and his beery friends to sing, Leck mich im Arsch:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHIw-ZfbDSQ

Translated roughly, it goes, "There's no point in grumbling, so lick my arse and be happy". The piece is, as musical Ripperologists will spot straightaway, in the form of a Canon