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The words are all mine, most of the pictures are not. Some of the words are not mine either.

Sunday, 5 July 2015

A History of Hogarts (part one)

I have spent the past few months, weeks... okay a quick Google search, researching my family history for the slim chance that I may be due a small fortune or unclaimed inheritance.

Tracing back my family tree has uncovered a number of interesting facts that have, until now, remained untold and hidden from public view.

It appears that a good number of my ancestors have influenced history and caused more than one upset along the way.

What I often thought was a simple case of paranoia, turns out to nothing more than an ancient curse set upon my blood line.

Here, for the first time in print, is the deepest darkest secret of the FAMILY HOGART:

 PART ONE: Walter Hogart.

In the year 1876 and Walter Hogart would often be found fishing in the small river than ran through the fictional northern town of Stockdale.

A simple man with simple tastes, he would sit by the bank of the river, chewing on a lump of stale bread while the slow moving stream wandered along in the vain hope of finding the ocean.

Walter would pass the day thinking of the future. What wonders awaited, Walter whispered to himself.

Will we ever cure left handedness? What the ACTUAL odds of being hit on the head by a falling coconut? What about socks?!?! Will nobody think about socks?

Ideas and notions would pass through his mind at irregular intervals. Strange words like "internet" and "mono sodium glutamate" made shapes on his lips.

He had no comprehension what any of these things meant, but he knew they were important.

So important that one day he threw his fishing rod into the river and ran into town to tell everybody his ideas.

The people of Stockdale were well known for their eccentrics and maniacs and very few of the humble townsfolk paid much attention to Walter.

It broke his heart.

Days and weeks passed with very little attention passing his way. Walter decided to write down everything he had thought of and the very addition of "inconsiderata ineptias"

1000 copies were drawn up and small chapters were passed around town, left on pub tables or hung to the back of stray dogs.
At one point, Walter hit upon the idea of sneezing and coughing on people who looked at his work in one of the worlds first attempts to make something "go viral".
18 people dies from flu.

It was safe to say that sales were not the best and Walter was arrested for being mad and was locked away for the rest of his life.

He died three weeks later when (during a rather unusual and improbable cascade of events) Walter Hogart was struck on the head by a falling coconut.



  1. Well I have to say Walter Hogart must have been quite a man and I suspect much of what he said and did can be summed up in that little phrase . . ."inconsiderata ineptias" as for your good self Mr H all I can say to you is "Qui tunc cap callidum" . . . AH DAMN that did not entirely work as planned what about "verbisque prudentibus sis callidus uir" . . . Well I give up Mr H, I think someone it trying to make me say things I dont mean, I suspect an ancient curse set upon the translators of cyberspace.

    I look forward with much excitement at learning more of your family secrets particularly where the treasure was buried to keep it safe from those who might be tempted to run off with it . . . . . (no no no I dont mean me)

    1. If Old Walter were alive today, I'm sure he write something along the lines of "genus estis nimis".

      But he i not alive. So I will say it instead, on his behalf... genus estis nimis.


    2. I will look these up in the morning Mr H as I need some sleep . . . . . . its been busy busy busy here.

  2. It's comforting to know that being a genius AND mentally unstable, runs through your family's veins...sorry, I meant to say 'a pioneer'...ahem...

    1. Mentally unstable pioneers.... Yup, that us lot. Hahaha


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