The Bridges of Ordover County

From Fanlore
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Title: The Bridges of Ordover County
Author(s): THe Master
Date(s): the post is dated October 15, 1999, but fans were talking about it on October 11, so this is probably an issue of how Usenet dated things
Genre: het
Fandom: X-Files fusion with The Bridges of Madison County
External Links: The Bridges of Ordover County, Archived version

Click here for related articles on Fanlore.

The Bridges of Ordover County is a parody submitted to by a fan named "The Master" who signs the fic with "J. Ordover. Master of His Domain. Executive Director of Media Tie-Ins."

The story is a an X-Files fusion with The Bridges of Madison County and satirizes many fans' anger and frustration at John Ordover's arrogance and scolding of fans and their fanworks.

Ordover, and suspected Ordover sockpuppets, wrote extensively about this ic on One of those sockpuppets ("JourneyToXTC") was a direct insult to an established fan named Kim who went by the name of JourneyToX. See In support of Ordover for many comments about these hijinks, as well as some comments about "The Bridges of Ordover County."

John Ordover

John Ordover was a writer and publisher of professional, for-profit Star Trek tie-ins. His abrasive and condescending posts to fan groups, as well as to private letters, was a very large source of contention among fans. See more at Ordover Wars.

The Story's Header

Title: The Bridges of Ordover County
Author:The Master
Classification: CRH
Archiving: Why would you want to? Besides, it's just gonna bounce.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I should know better than to do this, since I am The Exalted One.
Ladies and gentlemen of the non-renumerative, non-professional, copyright-infringing fanfic world, let me show you how The Professional, The Master does it. Read and weep at my sheer brilliance.

This is for the brilliant and inspirational Robert James Waller.

There are posts that come free from the New England woods, from the procrastination of a man who does not want to rake the leaves. This is one of them.


Dana stood back and admired the repast she had set out for her fated rendezvous with Walter Skinner: the crackers and Velveeta, the miniature cocktail wienies, the boxed wine. Her gaze lingered especially on the miniature cocktail wienies, since they reminded her of Skinner, naked.

A commotion, a cloud of dust, and the sound of her dog barking outside her Texas farmhouse told her that Skinner had arrived in his truck. She ran to the front door, and threw it open. Then she stood posed in the doorway, feeling feminine. Light and fresh and feminine, like a woman in a douche commercial.

As Skinner walked up the porch steps toward her, he was struck by how stunning she looked. He noticed all of her, as he always noticed everything. His U.S. Marine's brain shrieked at him, "Let it go, Walter, get back on the road. Go to Tasmania. Stop in Amsterdam on the way and look up the transsexual pharmacist who's done everything with everyone. Swim naked with her, or him or whatever, in the canals, and listen to yourself scream as the drugs kick in during a prostate massage. Let go of this" -- his teeth were clenched now --

"it's too strong for you."

He was an animal. A graceful, hard, male animal. A panther or a jaguar, prowling back and forth in his cage. A panther or a jaguar who also happened to be one of the last lumberjacks.

Back and forth he rubbed himself over her, back and forth, like a civet cat rubbing its musk on a trembling aspen, or a lion marking its territory with copious urination. Well, maybe not so much the urination thing. But he was definitely catlike. Back and forth he moved.

"Would you stop being an animal, and do it already?" she said at last, pushing at his shoulders in frustration.

He stopped, and looked up at her, his bald head shining like the moon glimmering on the Singapore coastline. "Um...I'm not really sure how."

She stared at him. "What?"

"I, uh...I've never actually done it before. Not with a real live woman, I mean. I paid a prostitute once, but she ended up with her head facing backwards before we actually did it."

"I must go?"

She lit a cigarette. "Yes. Don't you see, I love you so much that I can not restrain the wild jaguar-lumberjack that is you. To do so would be to kill the wildness that I love best, the magnificent, surly beast that must remain unkilled. You are too powerful for just one woman."

He started to speak, but Dana stopped him.

"Please, don't say another word. Just go, now, before I lose my resolve."

And so Skinner left. For the last time, she watched him as he got into his truck. He pulled the door shut, and started the engine. "Good-bye, you magnificent surly pectoral god!" Dana called. "Good-bye, you powerful bald man!"

Then they stared at one another silently, the Texas farm wife, and the man who was a dying breed, one of the last of the lumberjacks.

Fan Comments: At the Original Post


Oh, Master! If lovin' you is wrong I don't want to be right.

Somewhere, the angels weep...

[A.K. Finch]:

wonders if, in some roundabout way, she can sue Ordover for at least inspiring this inspired blaze of silliness and making her short-circuit software with sprayed Dr. Peppe


I'm beginning to think we need to give Mr. Ordover more credit as a great mentor...

[Kim/Journey to X]:
If I knew from whence this fic doth come
I'd want a copy on CD-ROM
Interactive, don't you see
And like fanfic, it'd be free
I'd ask a question of the Master
And his nastiness would come faster
Every answer would simply be
"You have no capacity"
I could learn a lot and be a pro
If only I knew how to blow
Off fanfic with a Purple passion
My pro fic'd be all the fashion
I so need him to show me the way
How can I go another day
With mere fun and friends and snark and fic?
I must go pro or I'll be sick
I must say goodbye to Skinner
That surly, sexy, love-to-sinner
Goodbye Scully and Goodbye Fox!
Only profic truly rocks.
But how to go pro, there's the rub
I don't want the slush pile tub
Sales are the bottom line, you see
Does insurance cover lobotomy?
Emily Bronte would not sell
She'd be in target market Hell
Peter Hoeg would make John broke
Michael Ondaatje- silly bloke!
Make me just like Danielle Steele
So I can buy my next big meal
Fashion me to be like Grisham
Your little feet - why I'd kiss 'em
Teach me, Ordover, because I know
Without you I'll never grow
I'll be like Waller or even Greater
If I but follow the Master Baiter.


Oh my God, I just hurt myself. Surely laughing one's spleen onto the keyboard cannot be healthy

[Dasha K.]:

Amen! Let's see here-- he's inspired an advice column, a piece of *fine* literature and a poem that is so lovely I'm planning on needlepointing it on a pillow for Kim's birthday.

[Loligo Opalescens]:

LOL!! I would praise this for being an eerily accurate parody, except then everyone would know that I read the original ( ;-) and even wept at the end, much to my own shame).

This is one of the things I love best about this newsgroup -- people take really annoying things and make them funny.

L.O. (who will always treasure that Greg & Marcia Brady version of that fanfic of Kipler's, posted after Nannyfic-gate...)

[heynonnyn...]: Ok, if Ordover ever needed proof that good, _talented_, _aimed at the correct audience_ writing ever existed, I posit that with "Bridges of Ordover County", this poem, and "To John Ordover..." he's got 'em. <BEG>


Ok. I've gotta ask this. The writing in this thread has been clever. No doubt. But why is it okay to parody/snark at someone else (using their real name, btw) in this instance where it has never been accepted as proper netiquette in the past on atxc? In fact, I remember a very heated thread just a short time ago where someone else was the victim of a "fiction" post. That piece of "writing" was rightfully called on the carpet.

So. Why is it different this time? This post is not to attack anyone personally. But why is there a double standard here?

The writing was clever. I just wish it hadn't been directed at poking fun/jabbing at one individual.

[Pyrephox]: I really have to agree. Although there *are* some people who should be doomed to literary or musical ridicule, Ordover (annoying and arrogant as he may be), probably isn't one of them. Even if he is, I doubt we need to do it... if he treats his writers like this, they probably manage it quite handily on their own.
The fic, while funny, wasn't really in the best of taste, and felt kind of childish.
Pyrephox- who nevertheless had fun recconnecting to her inner child while reading it.

[Vic G.]: Thank you for explaining why I stopped reading ST books.