I dide preapare mieselfe fore a fancie dresse partie, inne the mannere of a Bannannae, an afrik fruitte of some renowne. Itte was a pore partie, ande one manne was verie rude to mee. I rite this in a foulle moode.
The Brotherhood of the Horned Post-Newt genuinely believe themselves to be the last rational inhabitants of this planet, fending off the tidal encroachments of blind faith, deaf politics, mute literature and tasteless art.
The Newt is the journalistic embodiment of Spring-heeled Jack, and has been known to leap over the hedges, startling respectable women and burly policemen. Its methods are impractical, its purposes obscure.
Central to its identity is a lack of definition - no less, a publication of blurred edges. It is interested in anarchy, subversive action, samizdat, smashing through picket-lines and beating up communists. Equally, it is devoted to ruthless authoritarianism, oppressive fascism, intellectual tyranny and the world viewed from a bourgeois perspective.
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