While the music of Henkler Winkstkrumpstrangleheimer has none
of the passionate, fiery power of Beethoven; nor the majestic,
soaring loftiness of Bach; nor the graceful, sprightly innocence
of early Mozart; nor the joyous trilis yet sometimes moody vibrations
of Tchaikowsky; nor the moving yet rustic nationalistic rhythms of
Dvorak or Sibelius; nor the often psychotic nightmare manifestations
of Mahler; it does have something that none of these other composers
ever managed to infuse into their works -- a subtle yet irresistible
urge akin to that of a race conscienceness on the part of the musically
inclined general public to go and spend fabulous sums of money on his
now rare and almost completely unheard of tone poems such sa "The
Death and Transfiguration of a Syphilitic Alsatian Tupic Merchant",
"Der Wunderknabenschnitzel Herring Waltz", and "Comic Requiem and 
Mass for Tristan and Isolde's Youngest Illegitimate Child's
Pekinese Poodle."  Musical historians and critics have, out of obvious
personal bias, for the most part completely excluded serious 
discussion of Winkstkrumpstrangleheimer's major works from scholarly
catalogs mainly due to the fact that with few exceptions, all past
attempts have resulted in the placing of the writer in permanent
exile, monumental disgrace or state-funded mental institutions.

   A singulrly notable review exists only as a brief fragment 
discovered in the early part of this century in teh wine cellar
of a disreputable hostel on the seedier side of Amsterdam's heroin
district.  The author, tentatively identified only as a frequenter
of Madame Hooesinkaantle's House of Arcane Bludgeoning Instruments
and Other Dubious Pleasures, claims to have been forced to listen
to a complete performance of Winkstkrumpstrangleheimer's "Sonata in
B minor for Braying Mules, Flayed Cats, Cello and Strings".  The 
manuscript is badly stained with blood (presumably that of the 
cats) and dried egg yolks (presumably breakfast), yet under close
inspection, incomplete lines such as "...lilting paraphrases of
utter transcendental effluvia" and "...obscenely drunken arpeggios
giving way to harmonic brutality" can be discerned.  A few 
paragraphs are devoted to describing the subtle charms of the
violinist's daughter, but the passage ends abruptly with a bizarre
and prophetic reference to Liberace (whose birth mysteriously
coincided with the 200th anniversary of Henkler
Winkstkrumpstrangleheimer's death).

   The general consensus among modern scholars is that this music
is best enjoyed while under the influence of Valium, Demerol, and
sodium pentathol mixed with a dash of camphorated benzene.  Only
then, they argue, can the listener be ensured of being able to
understand the rapturous essence of the composer's spiritual self-
flagellation and annoying chronic cough -- which laid the foundations
for the syncopated tempo in most of his later operas.  Just last year,
the Winkstkrumpstrangleheimer International Musical Players Society
announced an agreement with the sponsoring patrons of the Berlin
Philharmonic Orchestra that would provide for a subscription
performance with Herbert von Karajan conducting.  W.I.M.P.S. plan
to record the event live and have made arrangements with production
agents for a contract entitling them to bring this rare treat to
American audiences in the form of mood music for Stephen King's
next screenplay.  When asked for a comment by interviewers, Karajan
was heard to mumble, "I don't mind to zis shtuff conducting, but 
my only request iz dat dey keep dat Don Barry character away from
mein vife and kindern."