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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

Eiseley 28 Mar 12 - 12:44 AM
Rapparee 27 Mar 12 - 11:45 PM
Amos 27 Mar 12 - 11:35 PM
Rapparee 27 Mar 12 - 05:11 PM
GUEST,Chongo Chimp 27 Mar 12 - 04:53 PM
Amos 27 Mar 12 - 12:20 PM
Rapparee 27 Mar 12 - 09:28 AM
Amos 26 Mar 12 - 11:58 PM
Rapparee 26 Mar 12 - 10:18 PM
Rapparee 26 Mar 12 - 04:54 PM
Amos 26 Mar 12 - 01:29 PM
Little Hawk 26 Mar 12 - 11:29 AM
Acme 26 Mar 12 - 10:53 AM
Amos 26 Mar 12 - 10:25 AM
Rapparee 26 Mar 12 - 09:57 AM
Rapparee 26 Mar 12 - 09:56 AM
Amos 26 Mar 12 - 09:32 AM
Acme 25 Mar 12 - 11:42 PM
Rapparee 25 Mar 12 - 10:51 PM
Amos 25 Mar 12 - 10:25 PM
Little Hawk 25 Mar 12 - 10:04 PM
Rapparee 25 Mar 12 - 09:43 PM
Little Hawk 25 Mar 12 - 09:05 PM
Rapparee 25 Mar 12 - 09:04 PM
Rapparee 25 Mar 12 - 08:53 PM
Little Hawk 25 Mar 12 - 08:47 PM
Rapparee 25 Mar 12 - 08:15 PM
gnu 25 Mar 12 - 08:13 PM
Acme 25 Mar 12 - 07:23 PM
Rapparee 25 Mar 12 - 06:13 PM
gnu 25 Mar 12 - 04:20 PM
Amos 25 Mar 12 - 03:43 PM
Rapparee 25 Mar 12 - 02:50 PM
gnu 25 Mar 12 - 01:55 PM
gnu 25 Mar 12 - 11:46 AM
Amos 25 Mar 12 - 11:00 AM
Rapparee 25 Mar 12 - 10:07 AM
Amos 25 Mar 12 - 12:58 AM
Rapparee 24 Mar 12 - 11:36 PM
gnu 24 Mar 12 - 10:04 PM
Amos 24 Mar 12 - 08:05 PM
Rapparee 24 Mar 12 - 06:04 PM
Amos 24 Mar 12 - 05:50 PM
gnu 24 Mar 12 - 03:36 PM
Acme 24 Mar 12 - 12:45 PM
Amos 24 Mar 12 - 12:42 PM
Rapparee 24 Mar 12 - 11:58 AM
Amos 24 Mar 12 - 11:21 AM
Amos 24 Mar 12 - 09:22 AM
Rapparee 23 Mar 12 - 09:27 PM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Eiseley
Date: 28 Mar 12 - 12:44 AM

Such poetry, Rapparee! Or doggerel might be a better description.

I'm almost finished with a new composition we'll sing to 7986 school children class by class to urge them to read in the summer. I'll have to record it and post it to youtube or somewhere.

I'll show the lyrics to MOM tomorrow after I make sure the meter is correct for the tune.

Now to bed!

Eiseley


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 27 Mar 12 - 11:45 PM

Here's a good one, Amos! The tune is "The Wearin' of the Green."

In that town called San Diego when the workers try to talk,
The cops will smash them with a sap and tell them "take a walk",
They 'throw them in a bull pen and they feed them rot-ten beans,
And they call that "law and order" in that city, so it seems

So we're bound for San Diego, - you'd better join us now
If they don't quit, you bet your life, There'll be an awful row,
We're comin' by the hundred, we'll be joined by hundreds more,
So join at once and let then see the workers are all sore.

They're clubbing fellow working men who dare their thoughts express,
And if old Otis has his way there's sure to be a mess.
So swell this army, working men, and show them what we'll do
When all the sons of toil unite in one big union true.

We have put the town of Aberdeen with others on our map;
And the brass bound thugs of all of them were handy with the "sap".
But the IWW's are boys who have no fears,
And we'll whip old San Diego if it takes us twenty years.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 27 Mar 12 - 11:35 PM

ANd dat's da troof from da hoss's mouf, Rastus!!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 27 Mar 12 - 05:11 PM

What do Lady Gaga, Madonna, Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Vanilla Ice, and Michael Bolton have in common?

The answer to Chongo's problem: PLAGARISM!!!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Chongo Chimp
Date: 27 Mar 12 - 04:53 PM

You are definitely onta somethin' there, Amos. A few songs like this about the evils of war and bankin' scams and the corporates causin' little match girls and teen proskirts to die in poverty could bring the whole rotten mess crashin' down!

I am gonna commission funds to get a buncha them kind of songs written right quick. I just gotta find someone with the gift to write 'em, that's all.

I think I'll run a newspaper ad and see who responds. Then get my pal Lady Gaga to record 'em. This is gonna be HUGE!

- Chongo


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 27 Mar 12 - 12:20 PM

Dear Gawdamighty, but you have fallen into a deep, moist, mawkish pit of sentiment, Booquemanne.

It strikes me that if songwriters poured their talents into writing similar schmaltz about the Demon Conservatism today, they could start a real whirlwind, a sea-change in the mass consciousness, a new awareness on the dangers and evils of mindless Me-tooism. Limbaugh would be out of business as folks went around humming snatches of ballads about poor matchmaker girls who dies for lack of universal Health Care, or starving women forced into prostitution who died on a back-alley kitchen table because abortions were illegal, and so on. This is an idea with a great deal of promise, and we have such irresistible archetypes to pattern upon, such as those provided herein by the Nobly Sentimental BOokmanne.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 27 Mar 12 - 09:28 AM

Also found in the DT, Amos.

"Oh dear, I'm so tired an' lonesome,
I wonder why mama don't come;
She told me to shut up my blue eyes,
An' 'fore I'd wake up she'd come home.

"I think I'II go down an' meet papa,
I reckon he stopped at the store;
It's a pretty big store full of bottles,
I wish he wouldn't go there no more.

"Sometimes he is sick when he comes home,
An' stumbles an' falls on the stair,
An' one time he come in the parlor,
An' kicked at my pore little chair.

"An' I 'member how papa was angry,
His face was so red an' so wild,
An' I 'member he struck at pore mama,
A-smilin' so meek an' so mild.

"But I reckon I better go find him,
Perhaps he'll come home with me soon,
An' then it won't be dark an' lonesome
A-waitin' for mama to come."

Out into the night went the baby,
Her little heart beatin' with fright,
Till her tired feet reached the gin-palace,
All radiant with music an' light.

The little hand pushed the door open,
Though her touch was as light as a breath;
The little feet entered the portal
That leads but to ruin an' death.

"Oh papa," she cried as she reached him,
An' her voice rippled out sweet an' clear,
"I thought if I come here I'd find you,
I knowed that you'd surely be here!"

A moment the bleared eyes gazed wildly
Down into the face sweet an' fair,
An' then as the demon possessed him
He grabbed at the back of a chair.

One moment, one second, 'twas over,
The work of the fiend was complete,
An ' his pore little innocent baby
Lay quiverin' an' crushed at his feet.

Then swift as the light come his reason
An' showed him the deed he had done;
With a groan that the devil might pity
He knelt by her quiverin' form.

He pressed the pale face to his bosom,
He lifted the fair golden head;
A moment the baby lips quivered,
Then pore little Phoebe was dead.

Then in come the law so majestic
An' says with his life he must pay,
That only a fiend or a madman
Would murder a child that-a-way.

But the man that had sold him the pizen
That made him a demon of hell,
Why, he must be loved an' respected
Because he was licensed to sell.

He may rob you of friends an' of money,
Send you down to perdition an' woe,
But so long as he pays for the license,
The law must protect him, you know.

God pity the women an' children,
Who live under the juggernaut rum;
God hasten the day when against it
Neither heart, voice or pen shall be dumb.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 11:58 PM

From "Wellman's Miscellany", 1871, edited by the Reverend J.K. Wellman, from a story ent6itled "A True Incident", author unknown.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 10:18 PM

touch, not tough. Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine.

Out in the gloomy night sadly I roam,
No one to love me, no friends an' no home;
Nobody cares for me, no one would cry,
Even if poor little Bessie should die.

Mother, oh, why did you leave me alone,
With no one to love me, no friends an' no home?
Dark is the night an' the storm rages wild,
God pity poor Bessie, the drunkard 's lone child.

We was so happy till father drank rum,
Then all our troubles an' sorrows begun;
Mother grew paler an' wept every day,
Baby an' I was too hungry to play.

Hungry an' tired I've wandered all day,
Askin' for work, but I'm too small, they say;
All day long I've been beggin' for bread,
Father's a drunkard an' mother is dead.

Oh, if some temperance men only could find
Poor wretched father an' speak very kind,
An' if they could stop him from drinkin', why then,
I should be very soon happy again.

Is it too late? Men of temperance, please try,
For poor little Bessie will soon starve an ' die.
On the damp ground I must now lay my head,
For father's a drunkard an' mother is dead.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 04:54 PM

I don't frequent places where alcoholic beverages are sold!! Lips that tough liquor never touch mine*!















*Mine liquor, that is.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 01:29 PM

Stilly, I think we have differing concepts as to what is savory in the way of images.


:D


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 11:29 AM

It sounds like the kind of thing he's always accusing Chongo of.

(Obviously a case of unconscious projection on Rap's part...he mistakenly sees his own sins in Chongo. How sad! Let us hope that one day Rapparee sees the light and offers Chongo a heartfelt apology for all those unkind and inappropriate criticims he has made of an ape who is loved and respected by all who know him and who would NEVER enter a drinking establishment without wearing pants.)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 10:53 AM

Pause and savor the image.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 10:25 AM

I didn't know Rapp was the kind of guy who walk into a restaurant wearing no pants, but it doesn't surprise me.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 09:57 AM

Oh, I forgot to mention that I have to wear socks and shoes or they won't let me into restaurants and stores.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 09:56 AM

I just wear a lightweight long-sleeve shirt and a hat or cap during the hot season. Pants are optional, of course.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 26 Mar 12 - 09:32 AM

It's odd, ya know. My grammae were a Campbell a Clark, as Anglo as they come, and my father raised in Rochester, my mother in Roxbury. But somewhere down the cascade of time we must have picked up a Roman gene, so I wasn't left with pale white skin, but a tad of color enoughto fend off the sun. Wherever that lick of the tarbrush came from, I am suitably grateful.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 11:42 PM

Gary, I am Irish and Scandinavian. Blonde, blue eyes, pasty white. And I don't do heat particularly well either, but here I am. Someone has to do it. And I figure if I can do it, all of you can manage a few days. Rap probably gets a fair dose of heat in the summer up there in the high desert, so I'm not the only one of Mom's kids who has to suffer it.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 10:51 PM

It's all part of The Call, Amos.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 10:25 PM

Well, Rapparee promising booty is kinda like Rapparee writing those Shakespearean sonnets. Besides, he may not have noticed but the phrase "booty calls" has a new definition int hese modern times...


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 10:04 PM

Hmmmm. Pretty tempting, I must admit.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 09:43 PM

Duty, booty! Booty calls! Pillaging! Murder! Rapine! Piracy! Sacking! Looting!

Surely you want in on all that, don't you?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 09:05 PM

Very cool. You know, I really would like to come, Rap. But I can't. Duty calls.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 09:04 PM

I did it! I did it! I snagged 44244 without even planning to do it!

Talk about AWESOME!!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 08:53 PM

Alright, alright, you don't have to come if you don't want to. But you'll miss out. Even Mom will be there, more or less sober.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 08:47 PM

JLOTMABLMYAIKE!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 08:15 PM

Belle Fourche, South Dakota is the geographical center of the US. Wanna have everyone meet there?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 08:13 PM

Texas ain't in the middle. And I don't do HEAT. I am Irish, red hair (well some), blue eyes, fair skin, so I would light on fire in Texas. Anyway, I would love to meet all of you for a session. But, that would require a lottery win so I'll just keep wasting $ on tickets and hope for the best. See youse all soon. >;-)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 07:23 PM

All of this scooting around the perimeter states of the US and a side trip into Canukistan to pick up people - the simplest thing is for everyone to head straight for the middle. You got it, Texas.

Just let me know so I can set up some camping spots if I run out of beds in the house. The dogs will enjoy some company out in the yard.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 06:13 PM

If you got really, really lucky you'd snare someone like Jacqui, like Kendall did.

Or you can just enjoy. Hell, I'll teach you the trumpet and in a couple days -- no more! -- you'll play as well as I do. Beside, anybody can play and/or sing (just turn on the radio or TV), but not everyone can cook. And if there ain't no cooks there ain't no singers or players.

Yeah, it's tough. But you also got MOABites to cheer you on. Just take Amos...please.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 04:20 PM

You sound like my cousins and The Irish Society. Play... sing...

What do you not unerstand about "I Can't." And it sucks.

As for the ganglion, my doc tells me surgery might work for six months and then, who knows. Cortizone shots are not an option on accounta what happened to a buddy. Smackin it IS an option but I got a better way... swing a hammer building something. It works. But, as soon as I play again, the SOB comes back. So, seeing as how I don't make a living at it, I chose to listen rather than play. Yes, I am miserable over it but I can still masturbate... slowly... which is the way I like it and at least that's a compromise.

There. Now are youse listening? I can cook, clean and listen but I can't play or sing. I see Dr. Marie-Josée Allard at 10:50 tomorrow to have my vocal cords inspected and decide what's next. First op was in 1998. I hope there are no more.

Sorry for the rant. I am feelin low.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 03:43 PM

I'll bring a spare geetar for you to plunk on, Gnuzer. And you still have a voice. You and Kendall can split duties--you make the voice and he'll do the filthy gestures...


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 02:50 PM

So? You can get a ganglion cyst removed; I've had it done. Or you can whack it with a hard object; I've done that too, inadvertently, but I don't recommend it. Pick up Beer AND Kendall. Heck, bring Jacqui too. In fact, start a convoy; add Spaw as you pass through Ohio and swing up to Michigan get Big Mick.

Bring the 'rhans, if you can't play 'em we can use 'em for targets.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 01:55 PM

Last kitchen session I had was with Beer. 2007.08.17. Just us. A wonderful night repleat with beer, fine scotch, BBQd steaks with all the trimmins and a lovey pie I baked (at my house, I'll put on the dog fer guests) and we swapped geetars even tho I couldn't play or sing worth shit. Beer tells a different story, but I think the booze affected his hearing.

And, to cap it all off, I preformed a magic trick. Rubbed my cheek just under my ear and said, "Adrien, can you see a lump?" to which he answered yes. He watched in amazement as I massaged the lump from under my ear to just in front of the "hard part" of the cheek, at which time the area decribed began to swell until I looked like a lopsided chipmunk. A parotid stone had lodged in the duct and dammed the flow of saliva. Thus began 5 months of hell all because the doc didn't believe my story. F'in quack!

Didn't even get to eat much of my supper but that made more room for alcohol... which I was in need of.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 11:46 AM

A... fact is, I can't. Smoking, a wrist ganglion and arthritis. Sold my geetar, mandy... gave away my whistles, bones. Still have my Rhans... gonna leave em to the church and piss off my cousins, the ungrateful Irish bastards.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 11:00 AM

Now that's a crackerjack idea, providing it's done int he Spring. ABsolutely crackerjack. Lay it, Bookmeister!!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 10:07 AM

Both of ya drop by here -- I got more room. Bring LH and Stilly and 999 and Old dude; gnu, pick up Kendall on the way.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Mar 12 - 12:58 AM

Couldn't have been much of a party, eh?

I feel for ya, Gnuzer. Come out here and we'll do some jams!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 11:36 PM

Since next Sunday is Palm Sunday and the next Sunday is Easter, it's time for my First Annual Heresy (my local pastor is aware of this and has given me both an imprimatur and a nihil obstat).

Do you realize that, according to the Bible, Jesus of Nazareth wasn't even in town for His Own resurrection? See John 19:40-42.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 10:04 PM

I was mistaken for Stan by many pub patrons on a number of nights at the pubs I played. I was fatter but, at a bit of a distance, I looked like him and, when I could sing, I sounded somewhat like him. My mate Chris used to call me Stan. I thought it was a wonderful compliment.

I often think of Chris these many years later. I think he is now a commercial jet pilot flying out of Iqaluit, Nunavut. His spoons were great and he could play a mean geetar. A bit of fiddle too. And when he would play the tin whistle to my Rhan, I was in heaven. His rendition of THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA (sorry for the caps lock) was always the last song at our, well, MY, kitchen sessions, by my request. Never failed to make me cry. The lad is good. I miss having sessions. I truly miss the music. God giveth and God pisses you off. Ya got no say eh.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 08:05 PM

WEll, I had heard a couple of them, but the Mare had escaped me somehow.

Thanks for the links.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 06:04 PM

Gee. I'm really and truly am surprised about that, Amos. I'd have thought you'd run across "Harris and the Mare" before today. Have you heard "Canol Road," "Night Guard," and "The Idiot?"


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 05:50 PM

COuldn't agree more. Love that guy.

In purusing assorted literary sites, I came across a really funny summary of a literary parody:

America's most beloved writer, Lilian Jackson Braun, author of twenty-five Cat Who... mysteries, is now the subject of a mystery herself. In Robert Kaplow's brilliant and bawdy parody, Ms. Braun's headless body has been discovered in the men's room of a bar in Lower Manhattan. The police are busy filming reality television shows, so it falls to Braun's writer friend James Qafka and his Siamese cats, Ying-Tong and Poon-Tang, to solve the ghastly mystery.

Q's quest leads him on a wildly satirical chase that combines the spirits of Lenny Bruce, Dashiell Hammett, and the Hope/Crosby "Road" pictures. Before it's over, we've encountered a Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist, a sex-starved suburban housewife, a mysterious Hollywood diary, Harry Houdini, a sinister cult, and two gifted cats who lead Q. and his spunky undergraduate assistant to finally unravel the riddle of The Cat Who Killed Lilian Jackson Braun.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 03:36 PM

Stan. What a man.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 12:45 PM

I'll go for short and no messy diacriticals:

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

--William Carlos Williams (whose name is almost as long as that poem.)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 12:42 PM

Dear Lord, Rapp, what an orful, blood-chilling, beautiful poem.

Thanks for it; I had ne'er seen it before today!

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 11:58 AM

Harris and the Mare
      Stan Rodgers

Harris, my old friend, good to see your face again
More welcome, though, yon trap and that old mare
For the wife is in a swoon, and I am all alone
Harris, fetch thy mare and take us home.
The wife and I came out for a quiet glass of stout
And a word or two with neighbors in the room.
But young Clary, he came in, as drunk and wild as sin
And swore the wife would leave the place with him.
But the wife as quick as thought said, "No, I'll bloody not"
Then struck the brute a blow about the head.
He raised his ugly paw, and he lashed her on the jaw
And she fell onto the floor like she were dead.
Now Harris, well you know, I've never struck an angry blow
Nor would I keep a friend who raised his hand;
I was a conscie in the war, cryin' "What the hell's this for?"
But I had to see his blood to be a man.
I grabbed him by his coat, spun him 'round and took his throat
And beat his head upon the parlor door.
He dragged out an awful knife, and he roared "I'll have your life"
And he stuck me and I fell onto the floor.
Now blood I was from neck to thigh, bloody murder in his eye
As he shouted out "I'll finish you for sure!"
But as the knife came down, I lashed out from the ground
And the knife was in his breast and he rolled o'er.
Now with the wife as cold as clay I carried her away --
No hand was raised to help us through the door,
And I've brought her half a mile, but I've had to rest a while
And none of them I'll call a friend no more.
For when the knife came down, I was helpless on the ground
No neighbor stayed his hand, I was alone
By God, I was a man, but now I cannot stand --
Please, Harris, fetch thy mare, take us home!
Oh, Harris, fetch thy mare, and take us out of here
In my nine and fifty years I've never known
That to call myself a man, for my loved one I must stand --
Now Harris, fetch thy mare take us home.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 11:21 AM

i sing of Olaf glad and big         
by E. E. Cummings



i sing of Olaf glad and big
whose warmest heart recoiled at war:
a conscientious object-or

his wellbelov?d colonel(trig
westpointer most succinctly bred)
took erring Olaf soon in hand;
but--though an host of overjoyed
noncoms(first knocking on the head
him)do through icy waters roll
that helplessness which others stroke
with brushes recently employed
anent this muddy toiletbowl,
while kindred intellects evoke
allegiance per blunt instruments--
Olaf(being to all intents
a corpse and wanting any rag
upon what God unto him gave)
responds,without getting annoyed
"I will not kiss your fucking flag"

straightway the silver bird looked grave
(departing hurriedly to shave)

but--though all kinds of officers
(a yearning nation's blueeyed pride)
their passive prey did kick and curse
until for wear their clarion        
voices and boots were much the worse,
and egged the firstclassprivates on
his rectum wickedly to tease
by means of skilfully applied
bayonets roasted hot with heat--
Olaf(upon what were once knees)
does almost ceaselessly repeat
"there is some shit I will not eat"

our president,being of which
assertions duly notified        
threw the yellowsonofabitch
into a dungeon,where he died

Christ(of His mercy infinite)
i pray to see;and Olaf,too

preponderatingly because
unless statistics lie he was
more brave than me:more blond than you.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Mar 12 - 09:22 AM

How dost thy friend, yon Rapparee
Improve each shining hour?
By wandering very dutifully,
From flower unto flower.

Chesapeake R. Brookes III,
Oyster Bay NEw York, 1939


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 23 Mar 12 - 09:27 PM

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


       --"Big Billy" Yeats, The Second Coming


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