In response to precisely no queries at all, I feel it is my duty to explain (make excuses) to loyal Accordingianists the long and unaccustomed silence that has befallen this august corner of Interwebshire.
Sadly, owing to circumstances entirely beyond the bounds of what may be considered fair or just, your humble correspondent has, during this difficult epoch that history will surely remember as The Great Crunch, been cruelly deprived of his lucrative post as Keeper of Discipline at a venerable finishing school for Wayward Young Ladies.
After consulting with prominent but fictional medical specialists, I have determined that I am presently suffering from an acute malaise, brought on by a surfeit of leisure. For some months now I have neglected to open a single volume of the dear old Ninth, instead primarily occupying my time by banjo picking, board game playing, and reading the most lurid pulp fiction and revolting Victorian pornography that I can find to download from the wonderful (free) Manybooks website.
Whilst I would not wish to seek any justification for these utterly contemptible activities, I am nonetheless drawn, in the manner of a schoolboy who peels back a dirty plaster to reveal the purple, pus-filled scab on his elbow, to share the leprous fruits of my unwholesome obsession. Until such time as I am fit and well to re-enter the society of learned and polite gentlemen, I may be found ranting and terminally digressing at an altogether more suitable environment, WHEN SUPER-APES ATTACK. Should my sleep become restful and my waking hours once more lucid and calm, ACCORDING TO THE NINTH may yet return to active duty. For the present, file as INACTIVE. Thank you.