As I write this memo, intrepid spymaster, you are surely aware that continuing debacles in the Bush Administration are casting doubt on the veracity of all work done within official intelligence circles. The CIA is no longer a safe home for tricksy things, and the FBI is under investigation for something I can't tell you about, except that it involves peanut butter and the number 5.
So in our nation's time of need, we must turn to "outsourcing" -- this means you, bub. Three days ago, at 02:00 GMT, this communique was intercepted as it travelled across Beacon street and attached itself to the gum at the bottom of my shoe (Buster Brown Gentleman's Loafer Model N32, size 10). Across the street on this otherwise uneventful day in idyllic, quiescent Concord, New Hampshire? No fewer than five campaign offices of leading presidential contenders. COINCIDENCE?????? I think not!
We have no idea who sent this devilishly coded message or what it means. The only clue we have is a hasty piece of zhuanshu calligraphy (like most terrorist evildoers, this scribe can't keep from letting a little but of the jinwen seep in. Typical!). Translated, the clue reads "Appearing Gallic, so appelate him the residents of blanched surroundings."
Can you decode this message? Your country depends on you! Maybe. This could be a takeout menu. Or a printer glitch -- I hate that. Or a page from a football playbook -- I can never read those. Well, you know what I mean. Give it a shot.
Eye knew you could do it! Once you see the answer, consider passing it along to your friends, along with a note appropriate to the solution, as a card. This is one good way to keep in touch, and keep your eyes on the prize, in this political season.
Irregular Times are no times for silence
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We also eagerly await original submissions of quality irregularity.