On Portland and r*bb*ts

On Portland and r*bb*ts

I usually ignore news and current events on these pages, but I’ve been receiving e-mails and phone calls all weekend about this "news" story.

“Hey Scary”, they say, “You live near Portland. Is it true about the rabbits?” Educated people want to know if the idea that people are avoiding the title of the Wallace and Gromit movie is a publicity stunt designed solely to make the inhabitants of the island look like a bunch of over-superstitious, inbred weirdos.

As you probably know by now, the first thing I see when I throw open the blinds in the morning are the twinkling lights of Portland across the harbour, as the wind blows across the ashes of the previous night’s witches. Portlanders, as I’ve said before, are a breed apart from we mainlanders, and this is a state of affairs that most of us are happy to maintain. There are still those who think that building a bridge across the causeway was the worst thing ever, and the legend remains that there are still old duffers up there who have never “set foot in England.”

Yes, it is true that the underground mutton are seen as unlucky on the island, mainly because their appearance usually means either flooding or trouble in t’quarries. I took my good friend Robson da Silva Rabbitinho (who is spending a year as a Brazilian for world cup and tax reasons) across to the island for a little look over the weekend, and apart from leaning out of the car window taunting the locals with his lucky foot, we found out the following:

*cough* awful publicity stunt *cough*

A final thing: the infernal, demonic moving picture houses ("A BLASPHEMY in the eyes of the LORD!") have yet to reach Portland. As a matter of fact, they’re still getting used to flicking a switch and finding a light come on ("Witchery! Burn! BURN!"); while hot water out of taps clearly comes “straight from Beelzebub’s bladder”. If they want to see the r*bb*t film, they will have to come across the causeway to Weymouth, and I suspect they will do so in their droves. Passports ready, please.

Edit: See? This is what happens when you meddle with The Dark Side. That's the Curse of the Warehouse, that is. I made a funny.