Note to Readers
This entry has been approved by the Committee for Epistemological Hygiene at the Bureau of Forgotten Knowledge, and a reading of it should not promote the outbreak of contagion. In accordance with CEH/BOFK accepted practices, this article will only summarize publicly available sources of information, and systematically avoid synthetic research. Readers are strongly encouraged not to pursue lines of enquiry suggested by this article without first consulting with the CEH, for their own safety and the safety of the community.
Egron: Sources of Information
The town of Egron is located northeast of Folktown, east of the town of Sejfeld. It is a designated "Red Zone" of epistemological contagion, subject to indefinite physical and consciousness quarantine. The CEH/BOFK report that Egron was, and is, a site of a Systematic Epistemological Action action due to doggerel plague.
The "Egron Eagles" appear in Bindlet Ball season summaries and scoring records until -9 EC. Due to the inevitable bureaucratic errors associated with epistemological hygiene actions and the accompanying lack of records, in -3 EC the Egron Eagles were re-registered and fielded a team which did rather well during the season. The resulting breach of quarantine had few public health effects due to the high noise volume and focused attention of game players and attendees.
Wine jars for some vineyards with vintages before -9 EC bear the imprint "Egron Glassworks". It is currently a violation of quarantine protocol to own or display these jars, unless they contain vintages of "Exceptional Quality" as registered with the BOFK "Wine and Sporting Exception to Quarantine Protocol", -7 EC. Empty jars must be destroyed within four days of opening.
The creation, ownership, or exchange of scholarly or other documents pertaining to the village of Egron which are not approved by the relevant authorities is considered a direct threat to public health, and persons taking part in such activities are subject to the appropriate legal and private prosecution. There are currently 47 cases of "private enforcement action" relevant to Egronalia on file at CEH/BOFK.
The following fragment, originally published in Aliens Everywhere magazine, was the basis for the popular musical pantomime "Love and Madness"; for this reason, it can be considered "Prior Release" with respect to CEH recommendations.
How's this for a pull at your heart strings, readers. If you think you've had it rough at the hands of the conspiracy with them stealing your mail and convincing those kids to egg your house, etc., get a load of this -- you ain't seen nothing. This reporter was present last week at the Folktown Council Hall and watched the following story unravel.
The backdrop: He's from someplace called Egron, and he's gone-daddy-gone; something is wrong with him but nobody can remember what and the man isn't gonna remind us. Probably he's in on the Aliens or something. All we tools need to know is that we should go ahead and forget him, and they sure make it easy, don't they? During the trial they don't mention his name, and the professional Daydream Believer on the scene has to keep reminding all of us (gently) that he's what we're here to talk about (your crusading reporter kept notes, which he had to agree to turn back over to the man after the issue went out, and which will doubtless get his name on whatever list the man keeps in his basement; I'm taking the bullet for you, reader).
She's on the stand, looking like death warmed over, while this legal tool for the Alien conspiracy talks about how she refuses to forget him. At first, she's silent, crying quietly, but soon she starts piping up. She says she can't forget him, he was her shining knight, she might as well just forget herself. Then, right there in front of all of these tools she starts to talk about him, about the way he talked, about the songs he would sing to himself at work, about his clothing and his bad jokes, and the tools just go nuts; a bailiff chemically silences her, there is a buzz about courtroom contagion, and this reporter starts to get some recalls about this Egron place (unfortunately, all I managed to get into my notes is that Folktown could clobber their ball club) and then the tools start back up harping about She's a threat to public good, and isn't this a perfect example of why she can't be allowed to walk the streets. I tell you, the aliens sure do have us in their pocket.
So at the end of it, they give her the sentence -- play along or they'll send her away. She nods her head, and they null the chemicals, and then when she can speak she shouts "Send me away! Send me to him!" and starts crying. Now the Daydream Believer softly walks over to the stand, and says "But dear, you'll die, you know." And damn if she doesn't just nod her head again. And then they lead all of us in the gallery out, and we wait while the goons interview each one of us, individually, for contamination and inform us of our obligations as witnesses.
I'll tell you, they sure do have us in their pocket.
If "Empty jars must be destroyed within four days of opening", then what happens if the jars aren't empty yet after that amount of time? The empty jar cannot be destroyed within four days of opening because it didn't exist then. Very interesting. --Dfaran L'Eniarc 23:17, 13 October 2005 (EDT)