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d20 Modern - Knightley Blues - First Update!
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<blockquote data-quote="wedgeski" data-source="post: 2337032" data-attributes="member: 16212"><p><strong>Second Handout - Shoemaker</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Quarantine of the Soul: Prologue</strong></p><p> <strong>by Brad Shoemaker</strong></p><p></p><p>I know what you're thinking.</p><p></p><p><em>How can this insignificant little man possibly justify writing a third book on this? What more is there to say? For the love of God, aren't 340,000 words enough?!</em></p><p></p><p>And you'd be right. I can't justify it. Quite frankly, enough people have bought my books that I don't have to do a day's work for the rest of my life. I've featured in enough interviews and TV spots that my place in British history is, to all intents and purposes, assured. I've cauterized the unpleasant deaths of my friends not once but twice, and the wound shows no signs of infection. If anything, having at this for a third time is an exercise fraught with peril, for there's no better way to re-open an old injury than picking at the sutures. But I think there are more stories to be told about the Quarantine, more people to talk to, more unpleasant little truths to dig at and uncover. My celebrity has afforded me privileges over the last five years that I've never enjoyed before, and I've used that license to good effect. If you stick with me to the end, I've even got a surprise or two, I promise.</p><p></p><p>But for many reasons, this will be the last tome I write on the subject. Those reasons may not be what you think (and only one of them has to do with the fact that my publishing contract only extends to three books). Mark and Matt's families, for example, far from asking me to curtail this endeavour, have continued giving me the same ceaseless encouragement before, during, and after the writing process. The British Government, whose bluster over the publication of Quarantine Lifted almost twenty years ago came to little more than one press release and some rather feeble cease and desists posted to my flat, have actually, remarkably, surprisingly and altogether worryingly given me at least superficial access to what official reports on the incident still remain in civic filing cabinets. Even my editor at Rapid Books turned in as diligent and comprehensive a set of notes on this book as she did on the first (see dedication), when by all rights the very mention of the Knightley Quarantine should now be sending her into a comatose stupour in which she's haunted into infinity by the shadowy faces of three hundred and twelve anonymous sources (the number of unaccountable quotes in all three of my books; I counted them last night).</p><p></p><p>No, the main reason I'm bringing this to a close is more personal and, probably, far less interesting. I've now been obsessed with uncovering as much of the truth about those events as I can for almost twenty years. That's half of my life to this point. Over 7000 days. Everything I've said and done (or so it seems) for that entire period has revolved around the Quarantine in some shape or form, from the erecting of those grotesque green and yellow barriers at the end of the road where I lived with my parents and sister, through the shootings and all the legal horrors associated with that, through the first book and the unending interviews and publicity that followed, all the way up to now, two decades later, with these few hundred words of introduction. I have not one single enduring memory of anything unrelated to Knightley from that entire period.</p><p></p><p>That can't be healthy.</p><p></p><p>So it's time to stop. Just a few more things to say, a few more loose ends to wrap up or at least fold neatly away so no-one trips over them again, and I'll start the third book in my little trilogy by setting out the same stall I set out at this point in the first two books. Three questions that the following four-hundred-some pages will attempt, once again, to answer.</p><p></p><p>1. Why was a map of the KQZ posted through my letterbox on the morning of 5th October, 1983, and who exactly was my erstwhile postman?</p><p>2. Why did Corporal Coombs allow us to approach within twenty feet of the check-point, and then shoot Matt in the heart without warning or provocation?</p><p>3. Why did she order 'Private X' - a still-anonymous man wearing no army fatigues and carrying a high-caliber assault rifle - to shoot Mark in the face - and I quote - "before they give the f***ing thing to us as well"..?</p><p></p><p>Three questions which have exploded into a thousand others over the reason for the Quarantine and the actions of the military in the summer of '83. Let's see if we can't find a few more answers.</p><p></p><p>Brad Shoemaker</p><p>3rd April, 2003</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="wedgeski, post: 2337032, member: 16212"] [b]Second Handout - Shoemaker[/b] [b]Quarantine of the Soul: Prologue by Brad Shoemaker[/b] I know what you're thinking. [i]How can this insignificant little man possibly justify writing a third book on this? What more is there to say? For the love of God, aren't 340,000 words enough?![/i] And you'd be right. I can't justify it. Quite frankly, enough people have bought my books that I don't have to do a day's work for the rest of my life. I've featured in enough interviews and TV spots that my place in British history is, to all intents and purposes, assured. I've cauterized the unpleasant deaths of my friends not once but twice, and the wound shows no signs of infection. If anything, having at this for a third time is an exercise fraught with peril, for there's no better way to re-open an old injury than picking at the sutures. But I think there are more stories to be told about the Quarantine, more people to talk to, more unpleasant little truths to dig at and uncover. My celebrity has afforded me privileges over the last five years that I've never enjoyed before, and I've used that license to good effect. If you stick with me to the end, I've even got a surprise or two, I promise. But for many reasons, this will be the last tome I write on the subject. Those reasons may not be what you think (and only one of them has to do with the fact that my publishing contract only extends to three books). Mark and Matt's families, for example, far from asking me to curtail this endeavour, have continued giving me the same ceaseless encouragement before, during, and after the writing process. The British Government, whose bluster over the publication of Quarantine Lifted almost twenty years ago came to little more than one press release and some rather feeble cease and desists posted to my flat, have actually, remarkably, surprisingly and altogether worryingly given me at least superficial access to what official reports on the incident still remain in civic filing cabinets. Even my editor at Rapid Books turned in as diligent and comprehensive a set of notes on this book as she did on the first (see dedication), when by all rights the very mention of the Knightley Quarantine should now be sending her into a comatose stupour in which she's haunted into infinity by the shadowy faces of three hundred and twelve anonymous sources (the number of unaccountable quotes in all three of my books; I counted them last night). No, the main reason I'm bringing this to a close is more personal and, probably, far less interesting. I've now been obsessed with uncovering as much of the truth about those events as I can for almost twenty years. That's half of my life to this point. Over 7000 days. Everything I've said and done (or so it seems) for that entire period has revolved around the Quarantine in some shape or form, from the erecting of those grotesque green and yellow barriers at the end of the road where I lived with my parents and sister, through the shootings and all the legal horrors associated with that, through the first book and the unending interviews and publicity that followed, all the way up to now, two decades later, with these few hundred words of introduction. I have not one single enduring memory of anything unrelated to Knightley from that entire period. That can't be healthy. So it's time to stop. Just a few more things to say, a few more loose ends to wrap up or at least fold neatly away so no-one trips over them again, and I'll start the third book in my little trilogy by setting out the same stall I set out at this point in the first two books. Three questions that the following four-hundred-some pages will attempt, once again, to answer. 1. Why was a map of the KQZ posted through my letterbox on the morning of 5th October, 1983, and who exactly was my erstwhile postman? 2. Why did Corporal Coombs allow us to approach within twenty feet of the check-point, and then shoot Matt in the heart without warning or provocation? 3. Why did she order 'Private X' - a still-anonymous man wearing no army fatigues and carrying a high-caliber assault rifle - to shoot Mark in the face - and I quote - "before they give the f***ing thing to us as well"..? Three questions which have exploded into a thousand others over the reason for the Quarantine and the actions of the military in the summer of '83. Let's see if we can't find a few more answers. Brad Shoemaker 3rd April, 2003 [/QUOTE]
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