(The following is an abridged version of an article published in the February 2001 issue of Word Ways.)
Absolutely accurate alphabetical arrangement as basic constraint determines eligibility. Elsewhere, evidently, examples exist. Here, however, I implicitly include inflated initial iteration. Judiciously, keep lengthy lists meaningful. Mind, moreover, my not ordaining panalphabetism; pangrams quite readily require some texts to use (usually) utterly vapid verbiage; witness words: "xylophone", "your", "zippers".
Appalachia. (Attentive audience awaits, awed.) Bassoons, be bold! Boldly blast, brass! Brighter, cellos! Charm, chorus! Clarinets clearly continue coolly delightful Delius's design. Desks' détaché detail develops dextrously. Doggedly, double-basses' downbeats dramatize drumlike dynamism. Ecstatic, effulgent eighth-notes embolden emphatic enveloping esthetic euphoria, evoking excellent, expert fantasy. Fast, fervent fiddles' fierce fieriness fights flashy, florid flutes. Forte, fortissimo! Gently glittering, harmonizing harp heralds hick hijinks, homespun homophony. Horns humorously hymn; imitating instruments intone.
John Lill, Liszt. Lithe liveliness. Long-breathed loquacity. Luminous, lush, luxuriant lyricism. Macabre, malicious, masterful, melodious Mephisto. More noise, oboes! Onwards! Orchestral outbursts outface outstanding pianism. Piano plays pleasant plink plonk, poetic polished polyphony, pompous powerful prelude, presto puckish pyrotechnics - quite ravishing!
Refreshments. Relaxing rest. Roam; rush seatwards.
Sibelius's Sixth. Slow, sober solemnity starts (strings). Subtly, the timpani tremolo. Triumphantly, trombones, trumpets! Tunes turn, twine, twist; typical ubiquitous undercurrent unfolds. Unleash unrestrained vehemence, violas! Violence, violins! Vitality, volume wane; warmth wastes.
We wildly wow! Yay!
Bedlam. Bereaved bibliophile's bleak, book-strewn chamber. Cold, dank, dark December evening. Exhaustion.
Extremely faint finger-tapping. Following furtively gardenwards, gasping "Gentleman...? Girl...?" (guessing guests), hesitantly I inquired, lamely, "Lenore?", listening: loneliness. (Lonely, lost maiden? Malobservation, maybe. Mere midnight murmurs?)
"Nevermore!", nightmarish, now on Pallas's pallid pate perched permanently, quoth raucous Raven, remaining, sitting stately, staying still.
"Stygian sybil... taunting, tempest-tossed, tempting terror... threatening thunderbird... to Underworld!", upon velvet violet wad wailing, waiting wearily. "Wretch!" Yawn... Zzzzz....
Copyright © Richard Sabey 2001