What is Adderphue?

No-one has asked me what I mean by "Adderphue" (the name of this blog). So I've decided to tell them anyway.

I occasionally write stories. None published (at least, not for a very long time). One novel, a fantasy titled "Exspelling the Dragon" [sic], was set in the world of Adderphue, a rag-bag of a place into which I threw about every idea and bad fantasy joke I could think of.

It seems a good title for an arbitrary collection of random musings.

From that ill-fated narrative, I herewith offer an etymological extract for the edification of those of a loose and indolent disposition.

"On the Creation of the World"

Naturally there are many explanations for where this glorious world of ours came from. Some look to its name for clues: Adderphue.

In Tekmarada, seat of the most noble and idle of religious archivists, the Reverend Floppy Eared Bun-i argues that, in the Time before time, in a Space without space, in an Impossibility without impossibilities, they used to serve snake curry. The effects of such meals on daemons and the Frogs (praise be to the sticky-tongued!) was bound to leave a distinctive stench in the lower parts of Paradise. The Reverend Bun-i suggests that the Frogs, being tidy beings, decided to fumigate the place, so gathered all the errant whiffs of after-snake into one neat bundle and hung it somewhere obscure in the heavens where no-one was likely to look. Hence this world. Hence the name: adder-phew.

Others disagree with the Reverend Floppy Eared Bun-i, notably the Right Mrs Reverend Floppy Eared Bun-i (divorced). She lays out an interesting hypothesis. Summarised, (and we apologise for any oversimplification which might result from this summary), she states that a concept as complex as snake curry could not have existed before there was a world in which such a thing was possible, so arguing that the smells of snake curry gave us Adderphue is therefore an argument a posteriori, without fundament, a logical absurdity and just plain silly (but, wouldn't you know it, absolutely typical of the Reverend Floppy Eared Bun-i, who couldn't even starch his thurible without an illustrated manual).

Much more likely is the argument a fortiori, namely that the Frogs downed forty or more double scotches and, inspired to see things they'd never seen before, decided to tinker with reality just for the hell of it and bring their rather wobbly visions to life. It follows from this perfectly tenable assumption that the world was created when they'd adderphue, but obviously well before they got to the curry stage.

Others in Tekmarada prefer not to be involved in family squabbles, especially when one of the family concerned has been champion hippo flounderer three times on the trot.

It must be said, however, that whilst the theory of the Reverend Floppy Eared Bun-i (that the world is the redolence of spiced reptile) accounts for quite a lot (such as the smell of the River Zitsphil), that of the Right Mrs Reverend Floppy Eared Bun-i, (that the world is the incomplete ravings of a few drunken adolescent Frogs), accounts for everything. And a whole lot more besides.

From The Book Of Contradictions to The Book Of Commotions, Hexaglint vs 93 - 93. © His Leaklessness, Philosophus of Arlene.