BS: Poetry about Mudcat

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 12 Sep 06 - 03:12 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos - PM
Date: 12 Sep 06 - 03:09 PM

'Twas in the fall of ought-oh-six,
On a cool late summer's day
When MOABs fourteen-thousandth post
Was forty-five away
My true love came to me, did she
On kitten's feet to stand,
ANd laid her hand upon my arm,
And said won't it be grand?

Grand! Grand! It will be fourteen grand
And folks will bow their heads in awe,
From all across the land!
From the visions of the King Khandu
To Rapaire's most dext'rous hand
The children of MOAB will cheer,
When they reach fourteen grand.

And then another post was made
The gap was forty-four.
Re-post, riposte, gibe and assert,
They posted three times more.
And then a whim, and there a jest,
Came forth on every hand.
And Catters muttered east and west,
It's going to be grand!

Grand! Grand! It will be fourteen grand
And folks will bow their heads in awe,
From all across the land!
From the visions of the King Khandu
To Rapaire's most dext'rous hand
The children of MOAB will cheer,
When they reach fourteen grand.

Then came old Tweed, and Bunnhabain,
with several things to say,
And the gap went down to thirty-four
Before the end of day.
And still the posts came trickling in,
Like the glass' telling sand,
And soon the word spread far and wide,
"It's going to be grand!"

Grand! Grand! It will be fourteen grand
And folks will bow their heads in awe,
From all across the land!
From the visions of the King Khandu
To Rapaire's most dext'rous hand
The children of MOAB will cheer,
When they reach fourteen grand.

...

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: Amos
Date: 17 Jul 06 - 01:38 PM

In response to Rapaire's concerns about the projected tearing off of the roof of his library:

A library without a roof
Is good -- it brings perspective
Enjoins the seekers after truth
From haughty, cold directives
And stays them from pretence, aloof
And condescending,

To walk among the whispers there
Of ages wise and good, while overhead
The local star goes by, and summer air
Reminds the scholars, looking up in dread
From curls of complex, mental snares
Into whose coils they have been led,
That life does not happily bless
The unbending.

And if, immersed in tides of facts
And paradox and half-moved arrows,
The scholar, rumbling in his tracks
Should be distracted by some sparrow
Or a humming bird's sudden attack
And finds the world had grown less narrow
And fields, more than fences, could use
Some mending.

This would not be a bad thing, in truth
I think I'd like to study there--
A hall of books without a roof,
Where dew can fall on students hair
Where stars can visit in the listening booths,
And winds can turn the leaves in pairs
And send the index cards awry, in a dance
Unending.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 27 Jun 06 - 01:12 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos - PM
Date: 27 Jun 06 - 12:22 PM

The evening and the day wore on,
Our lives were full of bother.
We posted when we had the time,
To our ever-bouyant Mother.
It was BS here, and BS there,
We'd not give up the ghost.
For we knew that somewhere down the road
Lay the Thirteen Thousandth Post.

Like the Grail of old, that number bold
Drew all our fevered dreaming
And if we let it fall to some drive-by cad,
We'd all be in for reaming.
We could hear the cheers and the bold halloos,
And the happy honoring toasts,
So we took the time to step once more
Toward the Thirteen Thousandth Post.

And if men died in far off lands,
And honor died betrayed,
And if we marched like Moses' band
Back into lives as slaves,
If virtue failed, and courage quailed,
And reason left for the coast,
Why, it's nothin' to us -- why raise a fuss?
Where's that Thirteen Thousandth Post?

Ephraim Symbolist, Jr.
Songs from an Empty Heart
Nihilist Pocket Books Press,
Greenwich Village, New York, 1947

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 20 Jun 06 - 06:28 AM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 15 Jun 06 - 09:54 PM

For your edification, some poetry from Hector Bluwbalz, Plagarist Laureate of Corn Creek, Idaho. These are taken from his Uncollected Works (Boise: BDM Press, 2006)

There ain't nothin'
Like my breath
To send you miles away,
Or any poetry like mine
To make you waste a day.

                -- Hector Bluwbalz, My Poetry, 1994


Because I could not stop for Mom
She kindly stopped for me,
The threads held just two of us,
And Amos and Stilly and Bunn and Bee-Dubya-Ell and Tweed and Khandu and Peace and Little Hawk and Rapaire and just all sorts of other whackos.

                -- Hector Bluwbalz, Because, 2005

I heard a fly buzz as I died,
So I hit it a good smack
And I revived
'Cause no damn fly is gonna upstage my deathbed.

                -- Hector Bluwbalz, I heard a fly, 1988

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 15 Jun 06 - 02:17 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 15 Jun 06 - 11:29 AM

Our postings now are ended. These our actors,      
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and               
Are melted into air, into thin air;      
And, like the baseless fabric of the Mudcat,      
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous postings,      
The solemn songsters, the great Cafe itself,               
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve      
And, like an insubstantial pageant faded,      
Leave not a thread behind. We are such stuff      
As dreams are made on, and our little life               
Is rounded with a sleep (except, of course, for MOAB,
For such sublime artistry goes on forever).

                      -- Ann H. Shakespeare, The Teapot, 1601.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 04 Jun 06 - 06:39 AM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos - PM
Date: 03 Jun 06 - 01:39 PM

Rustic Rebel loves to pome,
Pomes all day when she's tuh home!
But when she's out upon the range,
Something makes her pomes go strange!
Locoweed, from up the hill,
Celery, or maybe dill,
Some damn vegetable or uvver,
But strange or not, usn's still luvver.

A

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 27 May 06 - 01:11 PM

Subject: RE: BS: Let's NAME Max & Emily's NEW BABY
From: JennyO - PM
Date: 27 May 06 - 02:41 AM

Max, I was telling jack halyard (John Warner) about the latest events, and how you had mentioned fibre optics and the new baby in the same post, and that there was a thread about naming the baby.

I was already thinking along the lines of "Fibre Optic Baby", so - not needing much encouragement to write a song at the drop of a hat - he came up with this one, complete with naming suggestion, in about two minutes - to the tune of "Lachlan Tigers":

A fibre optic baby
It's plain to see you are,
It's also plain the LED
Will be your lucky star.
Go buy a Martin 12 string
A Gibson's not the same,
And sing your songs like Huddie L
'LEDbaby' is your name.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 26 May 06 - 05:48 PM

Subject: RE: From Max: Mudcat Update
From: Jeri - PM
Date: 26 May 06 - 05:36 PM

Getaway: Labor songs workshop.

My start at one (a parody, although the tune I know's a bit different):

Push, push, push, push,
And bear down on the kid
Squeeze him toward the portal
Just like your momma did
Grab ahold of daddy dear
Forget it he never shall
When baby navigated
Down the birth-I-ing canal

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 26 May 06 - 10:46 AM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos - PM
Date: 26 May 06 - 09:43 AM

The night is musk and misty, Rustic
Magic made from musty passage,
Mirrored memes insistent, marking
All the moments of your memory.

Musky, misty, Rustic mumbling
Makes the evening daring, laughing
And the menial melt with passing
Into light from murkly darkening.

A

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 26 May 06 - 08:47 AM

Subject: RE: BS: Let's NAME Max & Emily's NEW BABY
From: Flash Company - PM
Date: 26 May 06 - 05:16 AM

I realiise that when I try to make an Ogden Nash of it, I usually make a hash of it,but I couldn't resist this.

Come along now,everbody, come and name the baby,
Such a little darlin' really ought to have a name,
We can post it on the Mudcat, under b------t maybe,
Pretty soon now everyone will come and join the game,

Here comes Uncle Catspaw
With Jonathon Livingstone to offer,
Surely J L Spiegel has a quite majestic ring,
And if you're inclined to think tha 'Spaw is just a scoffer,
Evil Eye Fleegle Spiegel might be just the very thing,
Uncle John McKenzie thinks that joining names is cool, man
Max, Emily, Lily, Alexis bring Melanie to mind,
Rapaire thinks Catherine, calling her Cat would be the plan,
Ernest's thoughts of Bullheads relly are not really very kind


More to follow

FC

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 25 May 06 - 06:27 AM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 24 May 06 - 10:16 PM

Why, it's good old reliable Rapaire, Rapaire, Rapaire, Rapaire from Pocatello,
If you're looking for information, he'll turn it on the spot,
Even when the heat is on, for him it's never too hot.
But for the good old reliable Rapaire, oh it's only just a short stroll,
To the oldest established permanent floating info center in the World.
There are well-heeled searchers everywhere, everywhere,
There are well-heeled searchers everywhere,
And awful lot of lettuce for the fella who can get us to play.
If we only had a lousy little byte, we could be a millionaire.
Oh the good old reliable Rapaire, Rapaire, Rapaire, Rapaire from Pocatello,
If the size of your knowledge you want to increase,
He'll arrange that you go nuts in quiet and peace,
In a carrell provided by Rapaire, where there are no neighbors to howl,
It's the oldest established permanent info center in the World.
Where's the action? What's the game?
Gotta have the game or we'll die from shame.
It's the oldest established permanent floating info center in the World.

                --Nathan Detroit, For Love AND Money (New
                  Yawk: Crap Press, 1948)

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 18 May 06 - 11:27 AM

Subject: RE: 2005 Getaway Reflections Here...
From: John 'Giok' MacKenzie - PM
Date: 03 Nov 05 - 09:27 AM

Runaround Who?

Here's my story sad but true, about a plucker I once knew
He took his axe and he played around, with every other kind of sound
He played the blues he played some soul, he some tunes that are very old
But I tell you girls he'll steal your heart, he's just a round heeled musical tart.

A A Amos Jessup
A A Amos Jessup
A A Amos Jessup
With his baritone and his D35
He'll be the last one left alive.


Sorry Amos, just couldn't resist that one, *BG*
Giok

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 16 May 06 - 11:33 AM

Subject: RE: Max Appreciation Thread
From: Amos - PM
Date: 15 Jul 01 - 12:51 PM


MudCat Maxie

Tune: Fishin'

Well, let me tell you people 'bout a place I stay
On the WWW line.
There's a gent out there from old P.A.
Built a site that's awful fine.
Now old Maxie Spiegel said, "Ya gotta know,
I'm gonna build me a place for the Folkies to go."
MudCat town is the place to go,
Thanks to Mister Spiegel
He even made it legal!
Maxie Spiegel's Mudcat show!


Baby if its blues that are on your mind
MudCat is the thing for you!
Just browse on over to the Mudcat sign
And find yourself a clicky blue.
You can pull up blues 'til the cows come home
And run down the threads til your blues are gone

MudCat town is the place to go,
Thanks to Mister Spiegel
He even made it legal!
Maxie Spiegel's Mudcat show!

If you wanna know the story of the farmer's wife
Or the chords to "Buddy Have You Got a Dime?"
Just come on down, and you bet your life,
You'll get you an answer in record time.
No use moaning, or feelin' blue,
Baby, you can be a folkie too!

MudCat town is the place to go,
Thanks to Mister Spiegel
He even made it legal!
Maxie Spiegel's Mudcat show!

We got a frozen folkie from the icey North
Mister Skarpi from Reykjavik town
And Andre from the far Argentine
Where the gauchos lay their music down
We've got folkies from Pamplona, and from Bayou Blue,
Wales and Paris, and Dublin too!

Mudcat town is the place to go,
Thanks to Mister Spiegel,
He even keeps it legal!
Maxie Spiegel's Mudcat town!

There's the pride of the beavers, the Canuck Kid,
And his students playing bluegrass trills
We've got cowgirls from Wyoming and from Ozland too,
With knickers that just won't stand still!
We've got whalers and sailors from the coast of Maine,
Even got a Cajun gal from Pont-Chartrain,

Mudcat town is the place to go,
Thanks to Mister Spiegel,
He even keeps it legal!
Maxie Spiegel's Mudcat town!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 16 May 06 - 10:14 AM

Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: John Hardly - PM
Date: 16 May 06 - 10:12 AM

Well I was at the computer the other day
Talking with folks from miles away
When my wife yells in from the other room
HEY! You gonna be finished in there soon?!

             I said Wha..(cleverly disguising the fact
             That I was only HALF-way listening to her)..
             OK.   I wasn't listening to her at all.

Anyway, she says "So, what're you doin?"
"Practicing guitar, I'll be done soon"
Well she may be blonde, but she's not dumb'
She fires back in her gentle way,

               Well how come…
               I don't hear…
               A guitar…..?

Well, guitar, I say, is a MENTAL thing
You practice your MIND to make it sing
By then she's slipped into the room
I sense the lowering of the boom

                And she's looking…
                Over my shoulder…
                She's reading…
                                    
Shambles? Little Hawk? Bobert?
Katlughing? Magrath of Harlew?
What-the-heck-is-that?

Well, that there is the Mudcat, dear!
"hmmmmm. So what's a mudcat?" she said.
Well that's a place were people who used to make music
Go to talk instead

Retirement
Rest for the vocal chords
Save money on guitar strings.

So she reads a while and then she says
"Seems like the ones who talk the most
Are the ones who say the least.
"Well" sez I, "there can only be a few gems...

The rest are the black velvet
Against which
You show off the diamonds

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 16 May 06 - 07:04 AM

Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: The Shambles - PM
Date: 16 May 06 - 05:09 AM

You find money for this and money for that
To doctor the dog and castrate the cat
Sometimes it seems like there ain't no end
And then
You find something good and FREE

Well there it is writ-up large
No tricks, no con, no hidden charge
This here Mudcat Cafe - come in and stay
Hoooooray!

But everything has its price
Sure as eggs is eggs
Sure as sure begins with the the letter Z
Free
Yes Siree
A bit like that there new Ramblin Jack
Imposterin.................

Well it ain't all bad - it ain't all good either
It's kinda what you make it.....................




Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: The Shambles - PM
Date: 16 May 06 - 05:51 AM

Like at the funfair and which to ride
Like to try em all but you gotta decide
How to ride and buy a candy floss too
Or a toffee apple.

To have a the really best day out
You'll be glad to pay out
And to throw at coconuts
Should be worth the price

You pay much
To get them thrown at you?
Or them hard wooden balls
Kinda poor value
Bruisin too...........

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 16 May 06 - 07:03 AM

Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: open mike - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 05:33 PM

I logged on one lonely night
just to find a mudcat fight
mud was a-slinging left and right
all i wanted was a song tonight

we all love a good folk song
why can't we all just get along?
to this family we all belong
dysfunctional though, right or wrong

Think about Woody, don't you see?
What if he were you or me
he would vote for unity
ashes churnin' in the sea...

Sometimes to achieve a finer union
To cure the problem, find the solution
we might need a revolution
to gain a final resolution



Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: John Hardly - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 05:35 PM

I was lookin for truth
Kinda hard to find
But my method was good
The Socratic kind
Ran into lotsa other seekers
They all opined
Is it folk? Songwhiner blues?
It's neither. What? ...you blind?

No conclusions
244 post thread
Not like it use t'be
But it never was...




Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: Bert - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 06:23 PM

Just bin readin' this new thread
and there is something should be said
Mudcat now is such a mess
this thread should be prefixed BS:
And we need a section for all assholes
that should be prefixed just for TROLLS:


Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: The Shambles - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 06:34 PM

Thought that bully really hated me
Thought that I never would be free
I can feel it now
Blind fear in my guts

Wanted to fight and even tried.
Terror gripped me deep inside
Rage and shame
Guilt and blame

Not small stuff
The works
He doesn't know who I am nowadays
Probably didn't then
Didn't hate me - just had other problems

Do I hate him?
He taught me what the word meant.....I hate him for that

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 16 May 06 - 07:02 AM

Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: The Shambles - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 05:22 PM

C'mon Ron - give us a song.

For that's what youe supposed to think
It'd cause such a big stink
To know where he's a buried
Good and deep

Burnt Rambling Jack instead
Although is wasn't dead
Had to stop him singing someway
Kinda did the trick

Buried Woody alright
Dig it
Not sure who this one is
Some kind of imposter

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 16 May 06 - 07:02 AM

Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: freda underhill - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 04:59 PM

If you want to get to mudcat,
Let me tell you how to do it:
Gotta grease that mouse in a little mutton suet,
Slide right out of the keyboard's hand,
And ooze right over in the Mudcat Land,
Go easy. Make it easy. Not sleazy.

Standin' in the corner by the Union thread,
Watchin the words click past unread;
He oiled his tongue with a little mud grease,
Went slippin' up and down that mudcatpiece.
Huntin' threads. Stray posts. Chewin' it over. Left overs.

Make up the beds, gal, make 'em up nice,
Clean out the house, and chase out the mice,
By the kitchen table, and set it up right,
'Cause old Jerry R's gonna be here tonight.
And Ron. Loves cakes. Loves the music, too.

Standin' on the corner, standin' like a man,
Standin' on the corner was a Chongo man.
Standin' on the corner a banana in his hand
Waitin' for summin from the Shatner man.
'Lasses. Sweetlin' potatoes. Cold biscuits.

Down in the wildwood, singin with a bird,
My finger on the keyboard and my eye on a word.
I pressed that trigger and the post said "blip,"
Jumped on that thread with all my grip.
Ears' a mud eye. not a fly by.

Behind the chatroom the other night
It was awful dark and I had no light.
And Sorcha's dog run out by chance
And he bit a big hole in the seat of my pants.
I jumped gullies. Robe bushes. Plowed ground. Felt funny.

Behind the MOAB on my knees
I thought I heard a catspaw sneeze;
Only Ol Amos talkin' his prayers
And givin' out hymns to that Bush upstairs.
Just preachin'. Hens a-singin'. Little young chickens just a-hopin'...


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Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: The Shambles - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 05:00 PM

When you think you thought-up something new
An orignal truth something true
Your feelin real pride
Down deep inside

Always some fella comes along
Cocks an ear to your song
And says - sounds kinda familar
Traditional I reckon

Or maybe Woody?
Kinda forlorn
Perhaps one o mine?
Ain't one o yorn ....Too syncopated

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 16 May 06 - 07:01 AM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Rustically Rebellious - PM
Date: 16 May 06 - 12:29 AM

Hello Mudder
Hello fadder's Mudder
I am not here to be preachin' the word of mudder=Unless I really mudder.
If my mudder sounds like words,
I will mudder like pretty, little, feathered, colorful, tweety birds
If I make even a slightly different tweet,
Then you'll know my mudder is sweet.....
as Mudder....

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: Amos
Date: 15 May 06 - 04:17 PM

Now look here, folkies,
What are you thinkin'?
The way you treat this
Boy is stinkin'!
He may be boring, he may be obsessive,
His perseverant moans may be passive-aggressive,
And sure you get tired,
And sure you're annoyed,
But just take it all like Sigmund Freud!

Figger it out,
Analyze it.
Invent some TERminology....

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 15 May 06 - 03:50 PM

Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: GUEST
Date: 15 May 06 - 03:48 PM

Listenin' to all you folks ramble
Makes me think you do like Shambles
True he drives some of ya nuts
But y'all admit he does have guts
His thoughts about the Mudcat site
They may be wrong, they may be right,
But he's as wrong or right as you
At least inside this talkin' blues

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 15 May 06 - 03:25 PM

Subject: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: BuckMulligan - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 02:28 PM

Kicking it off; everybody know the talkin' blues form - take it away...

I was browsin' through Mudcat the other day
When I saw this thread from Max to say
That "this here shit's gotta stop and
Some of you go"

So I read on down a message or two
And it wasn't long before I knew
The shit was just gonna roll
And roll and roll

Downhill
From the Shambles,
Gatherin speed and mass
Like an avalanche.



Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: Richard Bridge - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 02:36 PM

FIrst and second line last verse need more syllables.    Maybe

Rollin' down hill from the Hammond to the Sham...

Gives the advantage of the half-rhyme of "sham" to "..anche"

In fact scansion generally could do with a bit of polishing.

Over to the Mudcat for developoment of this fine work!


Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: John 'Giok' MacKenzie - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 02:55 PM

Well lookin' down that road I see
Max Spiegel a drivin' his old MG
It was runnin' bad, n' Max was wishin
He could kill that MGs bad emissions

It was runnin' wild, and out of control
It didn't rock, it could only roll
It was loud it was bad it was makin' Max suffer
So he fitted it with, an all round muffler

Badge shaped like an octagon
Ought ta gone
A long
Long
Time ago.


Giok

Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: The Shambles - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 03:00 PM

Thinking hard about trying write this song
About why folks just don't get along
Even when they ain't even together
Not even in the same room

I sure is funny but it ain't no joke
So many ways to upset some folks
Seem so judgemental
Kinda uptight

Tense
Like a pressure cooker
Gettin up steam
Just cookin.....


Subject: RE: State of the Mudcat Union Talkin' Blues
From: Janie - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 03:16 PM

Well Giok, he roared but the Sham didn't stumble
Guest clapped his hands, shouted "Ready for to Rumble!"
Sham nor Clint knew how to take a hint
Meanwhile us lurkers is really gettin' bent
Some of us cryin' "Why can't we be friends"
Shut the Mudcat down I'm sure to get the bends
I got the Mudcat, Mudcat,
Mudcat Blues

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 15 May 06 - 10:50 AM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos - PM
Date: 15 May 06 - 10:47 AM

Dibbing ribs is double trouble
Adam's dam will triple rubble,
Addled dabblers daubed with paint,
Divil's dry debate with saint,
Fulsome prose, and rich ad libs,
Never born of dibbing ribs.

A

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 14 May 06 - 04:40 PM

I walked in the house feeling fed up and fat,
And my old man told me he'd murdered the cat.
He said he had used my 38 shooter,
I thought he'd blasted my personal computer.
I thought my end with the mudcat had come,
That he had committed an act so dumb.
I would never be reading this BS thread,
I wholly believed that my mudcat was dead.
Then I saw poor 'ollie' stretched out on the floor,
My brown and white cat would breathe no more.
I felt so relieved my computer was fine,
I celebrated with good French wine.
I booted up quickly in anticipation,
And sat intently at my workstation.
Engaged the internet, on my way,
To come again to the mudcat cafe.
But then it happened as often before,
I could not get through to the cat any more.
I tried and I tried without success,
And got myself in a dreadful mess.
I had to wait almost a day,
To get back on the old cafe.
But it is worth it as you know,
When I'm here it's hard to go.
But now I think I should depart,
To go and play a different part.
To meet my mate in the local pub.
To have a bevvy before the club.
So goodbye all I'll see you soon,
At a festival some afternoon.
Or in a folk club singing loud,
Amongst our happy 'Folkie' crowd

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 14 May 06 - 04:08 PM

Subject: RE: From Max: State of the Union Address
From: McGrath of Harlow - PM
Date: 12 May 06 - 06:50 PM

... I wrote a song about the Mudcat when I first came upon it, way back in the 20th Century, and it still sums up what it seems to me it's about. Here it is again. (The words have changed a little bit, the way songs do, so that's an excuse to post it once more) :

The Blue Clicky Thing

I spied it one day, I was trawling the net,
a fish like a cat, that's the strangest one yet.
When I reached out to touch it, things started to spin -
I was off for a ride down that Blue Clicky Thing.
The Blue Clicky Thing, the Blue Clicky Thing,
it can take you away like a magical ring.
It can make you as free as a bird on the wing,
the Mudcat Cafe and the Blue Clicky Thing.

I was off on a ride and admiring the view,
there were places I got to that I never knew,
there were stories to share, there were songs you could sing,
there were all kinds of folk down that Blue Clicky Thing.
The Blue Clicky Thing, the Blue Clicky Thing,
it can take you away like a magical ring,
It can make you as free as a bird on the wing,
the Mudcat Cafe and the Blue Clicky Thing

There were names you could mutter and photos to see,
of neighbours next door, 'cross the wide rolling sea,
and a tavern where you could drop in for a drink,
and gossip with friends, down that Blue Clicky Thing.
The Blue Clicky Thing, the Blue Clicky Thing,
it can take you away like a magical ring,
It can make you as free as a bird on the wing,
The Mudcat Cafe and the Blue Clicky Thing.

Well I try to explain, and you might understand,
it's a fine place to go to when you're feeling grand -
but when your heart's heavy, and you're shackled and pinned,
you can reach out and find help down that Blue Clicky Thing
The Blue Clicky Thing, the Blue Clicky Thing,
it can take you away like a magical ring,
Don't it hold us together like brown paper and string?
The Mudcat Cafe and the Blue Clicky Thing.
...........................

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 09 May 06 - 03:32 PM

Amos - PM
Date: 09 May 06 - 03:31 PM

Another 10-spot for Rapaire, the Idaho Gambler, and te reckless bids keep coming. Who's bluffing? Who's got the high hand? Who has straight flush BS with royal tops? Who's just staring down the opposition, sitting on an explosive, ruinous "fold" and claiming four of a kind in the BS stakes?

You got to know when to copy,
When to act sloppy,
Know when to shovel crap,
An' when to bite your tongue
And you never count your postings
When your still composing BS,
There'll be lots of time for counting posts
When the BS is all done

A

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 05 May 06 - 08:11 PM

Why distill down all of the good works on MOAB? People can go over to the real thing and read for themselves.

SRS

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 05 May 06 - 06:44 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 05 May 06 - 06:42 PM

'Tis the song of Rapaire
Standing at the bar-room door
While the shameful midnight revel
Rages wildly as before.

MOAB, dear MOAB, come home with me, now!
The clock on the steeple strikes one;
You said you were coming straight home from the mall,
As soon as your shopping was done.
Our fire has gone out, our house is all dark,
And Stilly's been waiting since tea,
With poor brother Amos so sick in her arms,
And no one to help her but me.
Come home, come home, come home!
Please MOAB, dear MOAB come home.

cho: Hear the sweet voice of the child,
Which the night winds repeat as they roam!
Oh who could resist this most plaintive of cries,
"Please MOAB dear MOAB come home."

MOAB, dear MOAB, come home with me, now!
The clock on the steeple strikes two;
The night has grown colder and Amos is worse,
But he has been calling for you.
Indeed he is worse, Stilly says he will croak
Perhaps before morning shall dawn;
And this is the message she sent me to bring,
"Come quickly! Or he will be gone."
Come home, come home, come home!
Please MOAB, dear MOAB come home.


MOAB, dear MOAB, come home with me, now!
The clock on the steeple strikes three,
The house is so lonely, the hours are so long
For poor weeping Stilly and me.
Yes we are alone now; poor Amos has kicked
And gone to the realms down below,
And these were the very last words that he said
"I want to kiss MOAB goodnight."
Come home, come home, come home!
Please MOAB, dear MOAB come home.

                   --Songs of Temporary Worth (NY: Temporary   
                      Publications, 1877).

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 04 May 06 - 11:28 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 04 May 06 - 10:38 PM

I am a Mudcat snowcone
Way out in Idaho,
Melting in the sunshine
Freezing in the snow.
Posting to MOAB
Now and then,
Dodging GUESTs,
And hanging ten
I am a Mudcat snowcone
Way out in Idaho.

    -- Jay Lon Wennings, Poems and Songs Unfinished (Atomic City,            
       Idaho: 1902)

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: Rustic Rebel
Date: 02 May 06 - 10:14 PM

If it weren't for me, brain dead,
I'd a be a writin'
A poem for the bearded one.
Since I can hardly think straight
Can't seem to concentrate
Bearded man will have to create
A poem for himself, instead.

Rap man-That is too damn funny!!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 02 May 06 - 09:08 PM

sorry, editing is extra. I try not to make value judgements about your work...

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: Rapparee
Date: 02 May 06 - 08:59 PM

Ha! I made that up! It has no meaning whatsoever that I'm aware of!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 02 May 06 - 08:47 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 02 May 06 - 08:42 PM

Melischia, MOAB grata, grata MOAB, MOAB ma,
Balitatita ma nogawa, chesirt schaywa Mudcat nou!
Khandu nascit grata MOAB, plucal mina jist agou
Doncar malwa
Doncar belwa
Grata MOAB falsii fa!

Go nigewat, grata MOAB, grata MOAB, MOAB cha,
Inde Mudcat, sicut nalpam, grata MOAB Amos flut,
Ert na Rustic Rebel, Stilly, boucat nat charsna clut
Doncar malwa
Doncar belwa
Grata MOAB falsii fa!

Agan Mudcat, grata MOAB, grata MOAB, MOAB da,
Mene shlafawn, mene Bee-Dub, mene LH, plucal fatri
Esheen golwat Max ba Joe shees, Tweed na bota chatari!
Doncar malwa
Doncar belwa
Grata MOAB falsii fa!

          --Harry Ankhenaten Sales, The Big Book of Good Poems
            (Tooten Common: Scarred Abs Press, 1922)

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 02 May 06 - 07:40 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rustic Rebel - PM
Date: 02 May 06 - 07:30 PM

Now that you mention it King Kandu, I thought her birthday was yesterday. I spaced it out. Are you sure it wasn't yesterday? I think so, and now that I'm back in here. I found something awhile back celebrating her year and a day, because I missed Mother's first Birthday...It went like this,

Happy Day Late oh Mother May 6, '02
To honor MOAB on her one year and a day jubilee
3000 Playmate Paul Doll balloons with erectile penises I set free.
With bleary eyes, I blinked back a tear
Remembering the joy and bullshit of the past year.
I missed the party that was or was not held,
but,3000 Playmate Paul Doll balloons with erectile penises swelled
....with helium. I rose a glass of whiskey, and watched them disappear to the north, west, east and south.
And to my final contentment, I poured the whiskey in my mouth.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 02 May 06 - 02:58 PM

: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell - PM
Date: 13 Nov 04 - 11:21 AM

This message doesn't bounce around.
This message just sits on the ground.
Its colors are not red or green,
Just dull old black, a bit boring.
No fonts larger or smaller than
Whatever comes out of the can.
No creepy letters dripping bile.
No blinky words to make you smile.
HTML it does eschew.
You read it just the same, didn't you?

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 02 May 06 - 02:47 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rustic Rebel - PM
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 03:31 AM

Oh faded memory of the great MOAB,what has become of you?
We wallow in a world of poems from here to Timbuktu.
To recall all the bullshit from the past,
is neither up to me or you,
but what I ask of you good folks now,
is to get up and pee in your shoe.


I said that too.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 11:36 PM

of course, every shift must end...



100!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 11:28 PM

Amos,

Rememeber the old backups to NORAD? 48 bit machines, BUICK-3 or some such?

They had to be operational at all times, but were never used unless NORAD's prime system went down. So, operators got to program whatever they wanted, to make sure they were running ok ( easy enough to dump the load and reset with the operational software) The control console had a tone generator, to generate test tones, so.... First time I ever heard computer generated music.

The point is, I have to be here, the lines have to be up, I have to stay awake, and Mudcat is safer for my job than some of the other sites I could be visiting...

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 11:23 PM

Nope. Just lucky, I guess

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: Amos
Date: 01 May 06 - 11:16 PM

Two minutes?   This has got to be a kiddy script.


A

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 10:59 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos - PM
Date: 01 May 06 - 10:57 PM

No, Six, it isa much more than this. Go back to page 1 and read forward. All will become clear.

Oh Rustical Rebel, O, Rebel my dear,
Your wit is so deep, and your eyes are so clear,
Your arms and your fingers are pure, I confess,
But the mind also lingers upon all the rest.
So random and wild are the spins we are in,
When you drift amongst us, your MOABITE kin,
That the end can't be figgered
From where it begins,
In the shadowy tendrils of bullshit.

Oh, BW, BW, BWL,
Whose humor and insight goes too far to tell,
From the Florida sky to his downy deep vale,
Where his clay pots lie patiently drying their tails,
So wicked the flashing of lightning like wit,
As he toils in the earth,
and the storm, and the pit,
Midst the shadowy tendrils of bullshit!

Rapaire in the Northland, where the egos grow tall,
Where space is wide open, and nothing looks small,
Where a man is as big as the blue sky he smells,
And as sturdy and tall as the bullshit he tells,
He's winsome and lithe,
And much more than alive,
In the flowering tendrils
of bullshit!

And Steady-On Stilly, of well-lettered zest,
Transplanted to Texas from the wooly Northwest,
With marvelous treasure hidden deep in her mind,
Which leave all her fellows at MOAB stone blind
So clear and unscarred,
With her dogs, in her yard,
Midst the delicate tendrils of bullshit!

There's dozens of others whose names I could name
Who have conquered the MOAB, who well deserve fame
But I don't have forever, and they know who they are,
Each fellow a poet, and each lass a star
As we follow this spiralling back-slapping trail,
Where no-one can falter, and no-one can fail
Midst the perilous tendrils of bullshit!

Agonistes Perihelion III,
Advocate-General of the Public Weal
Peon Paeans and Those Who Write Them
Byronme and Pisceonyu,
Long Beach, California, 1897

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 08:21 PM

It ain't rocket science- and if it was, I have that covered, as a rocket scientist. All it takes is a high speed data link, and time between spacecraft passes...


But you will never know when I am watching you!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: Rustic Rebel
Date: 01 May 06 - 08:17 PM

BeardedBruce- Those were kind of an insider thing. I will forgive you though! What I want to know is how you did that so fast?

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 08:13 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rustic Rebel - PM
Date: 01 May 06 - 08:10 PM

Well shit I sure screwed that up-It was Mmario that wasn't mentioned. So we are the puritans-I knew when I said Bee-Dubya it didn't feel quite right.

MMario and Rustic pure in their way
Like to bullshit, all through the day
With a wise crack here and a joke on the side,
Up in heaven, will be a good place to hide!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 08:02 PM

well, it contains the attempt...


Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rustic Rebel - PM
Date: 01 May 06 - 07:55 PM

So how high do your balls bounce Rapaire? And when you drop them from forehead height does it....Oh forget that..I don't even want to really know!

The MOTHER Got Balls by Gettemwhile Yewcan.

So what's up folks? I stay away for a week and you forget about me? My name doesn't rhyme with anything or what? Gee-whiz and golly snickit. I notice even the Rev. Billy Ray or what ever he called himself, left Bee-dubya and me out of his redeeming rehabilitation quest to purify the MOAB. We must be the puritans around here!
Yes that's it!

Rustically Rebel and Bee-Dubya-ell
They are pure and won't go to hell!
They like to bullshit and some tales they do tell
Damn those two, sure are swell...ed!

Yours true-Rustically Rebelish
PS-If anyone was wondering-I am not the Rev. Ray- I do have some dignity!
PS again- I'm once again heading to Fargo in the morn-My quest for the rings continues without falter.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 06:51 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 01 May 06 - 06:47 PM

The preceeding was from Irving Frankfurtamrhine's Gunny, get your aunt!, a play from way, way, off-Broadway (opened in Mendon, Illinois on March 7, 1948, closed March 7, 1948).

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 06:47 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 01 May 06 - 06:43 PM

MEN'S CHORUS:
The freds, the Ralphs, the Legion, the pomes
The visitors that don't know up from down

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
The eyeaches, the earaches, the migraines, the flops
The martians invading every town

MEN'S CHORUS:
The postings when your heart beats like a drum

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
The panic when the BS doesn't come

ALLS:
There's no business like MOAB business
Like no business I know

MEN'S CHORUS:
Everything about it is apalling

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
Every pun the traffic will allow

MEN'S CHORUS:
No where could you find a duckdog reeling

ALL:
When you're petting old Gluon!
There's no people like MOAB people
They smile because they are low

MEN'S CHORUS:
Yesterday they told you you would not go far

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
That night you posted and here you are

MEN'S CHORUS:
Next day you find yourself hangin' round a bar

ALL:
Let's go, on with the posts!

MEN'S CHORUS:
There's Amos, and Stilly, and Bee-Dub, and Tweed
There's Khandu, who started the whole mess --

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
There's music, there's poems, there's science, there's puns
The Catters who have posted, every one,

MEN'S CHORUS:
The BS and the horse poop and the smell

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
The Reverend Jimmy Ray we'd like to quell

ALL:
There's no BS like MOAB BS
Try it, you'll know it's so
Folks from everywhere are coming posting
Standing out in front of all their friends
Smiling as you watch dear MOAB filling
And see the postings that never end!

There's no people like MOAB people
They'll laugh at you because like them you're low
Because you are a turkey and your wit is old
They'll kick you out and leave out in the cold
Still you wouldn't trade 'em for a sack o' gold
Let's go on with MOAB!
Let's go on with MOAB!
The MOAB!
The MOAB!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 01 May 06 - 02:19 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 29 Apr 06 - 11:02 PM

Ah, well. I shall post the lyrics to my song.

MOAB dear! MOAB dear!
In far off Idaho I heard your call
MOAB dear! MOAB dear!!
And here am I to give my all
I know in my soul what you expect of me
And all that and more I shall be!
A MOABite should be quite BSible
Succeed where a less fantastic man would fail
Climb to the heights no else can climb
Cleave a GUEST in record time
Post BS tho' he is without e-mail!
No matter the pun he ought to be unwinceable
Impossible tales should be his daily fare
But where in the world
Is there in the world
A man so extraordinaire?

C'est moi! C'est moi!
I'm forced to admit
'Tis I, I humbly reply
That mortal who
These marvels can do
C'est moi, c'est moi, 'tis I
I've never lost
In battle or game
I'm simply the best by far
When words are cross'd
'Tis always the same
One pun and au revoir!
C'est moi! C'est moi!
So admir'bly fit
A Idahoer of Rabelasian cheer
And here I stand with BS untold
Exception'lly brave, amazingly bold
To serve our MOAB dear!

The soul of a MOABite should be so sparkable
Yet my heart and my mind are pure as morning dew
With a will and a self-restraint
That's the envy of ev'ry saint
I could easily work a miracle or two
In love and desire I ought to be remarkable
Tho' ways of the flesh doth offer no allure
But where in the world
Is there in the world
A man so untouch'd and pure?

[spoken] C'est moi

C'est moi! C'est moi!
I blush to disclose, I'm far too noble to lie
That person in whom these qualities bloom
C'est moi, c'est moi, 'tis I

I've never stray'd from all I believe
I'm bless'd with an iron gut
Had I been made the partner of Eve
We'd all be in still in rut!
C'est moi! C'est moi
The angels have chose to post their postings below
And here I stand as pure as a pray'r
Incredibly clean, with virtue to spare
The MOABitest man I know!
C'est moi!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 27 Apr 06 - 01:19 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 27 Apr 06 - 10:24 AM

Perhaps in her Rowdy Ramblin' days.

I am a young man who has gone wrong
Fiddly foodly fee,
I am a young who has gone wrong
So you sit still and list to my song,
Foodly fiddly fee.

Chorus (ad nauseam):
Sing foodly fiddly fiddly foo,
Rarely rearly roo
I am a young man
Who has gone wrong
And I'll swing for it
But not for this song,
Mumblety rootelee dee.

I took my sword and I took my gun,
Fiddly foodly fee,
And I left dear MOAB on the run
And took to the highway to have some fun,
Foodly fiddly fee.

I robbed the poor and I robbed the rich
Fiddly foodly fee,
I robbed the poor and I robbed the rich,
And even Lord Backstrap, that sonuvabitch,
Foodly fiddly fee.

Fair young maids I kissed each day,
Fiddly foodly fee,
Fair young maids I kissed each day,
And with some rolled in the fresh-cut hay,
Foodly fiddly fee.

I diddled Lord Backstrap's daughter fair
Fiddly foodly fee,
I diddled Lord Backstrap's daughter fair,
And how his servants they did stare,
Fiddly foodly fee.

They took me up and threw me in gaol,
Fiddly, etc.
They took me up and threw me in gaol,
With a splintery cot and a stinking pail
Fiddly, etc.

Tomorrow morning I'll be hung,
Fiddly, etc.
Tomorrow morning I'll be...hung,
Aw, shit man! You think I'm happy about it, doncha?
You think I'm one of those romantic twits who robbed the rich and gave to the poor! Bull! I robbed them both and kept it! And spent it, too! Well, I want a lawyer! I want an appeal, damnit!
At least a reprieve! Better yet, a pardon! I'll do gross and disgusting things for a pardon! I'll become a Republic...well, no, better dead than red....

             --From the singing of "Big" Johnny Littlejohn, ca. 1712.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetry about Mudcat
From: beardedbruce
Date: 27 Apr 06 - 01:19 PM

Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 27 Apr 06 - 09:07 AM

I'm an old MOABite poster
I wallow in its muck,
And for these other posters
I do not give a...shuck,
I'll tell all those do-gooders
Just where they all can go,
Saying I don't want your opinions, man,
I like the status quo.

I'm erudite and really smart,
I can post in Latin too!
I've posted so much BS here
Politicians kiss my shoe.
I'm talented and musical
I play an instrument or six,
And I know the diff between E-flat
A glissando and a pick.

Someday when I'm dead and gone
And all this pain is o'er,
I'll spend Eternity with Mom,
And post and post some more.
'Cause Mom's the best there ever was,
The best that you Khandu,
And I'll post in Pictish, Greek and fred
But rarely in Urdu.
          -- Maybelline Nolver, The Unrepentant MOABite
             (Moab, Utah: Privately Published, fl.1831).