Archive for It Could Be Verse

Unwanted garment

Fillyjonk wrote this, and she doesn’t think much of it.

I do.

Grief is like a garment of variable size.

At times, it is a heavy wool cloak, enveloping, engulfing, it weighs you down.

At others, it is that t-shirt with the annoying tag you cannot rip out and that only gets worse if you cut it

It is never light and comfortable

It is usually too hot and saps your energy

It is a flattering color on no one.

It cannot be removed, cannot be dropped by the side of the road.

Laundering does not help it, nor does washing it in tears.

It will not rip; you cannot remove it; it is as if it is the enchanted

Shoes from that fairy tale; it has molded to your body.

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Hottentots not so hot

Tip your hat to the Cowardly Lion, pour out a couple snifters of apricot brandy, and reflect on the miracle of self-reflection:

Lacking opportunities to test ourselves — I should say “thankfully lacking opportunities,” as a world war now is the end of the human race — we’ve lost sight of what courage really means. Instead, we’ve elevated cruelty to its place. Just as Marxism turns envy from the worst vice (it’s what caused the angels to fall) into the best virtue, so Leninism turns ruthlessness and brutality into sham courage.

It helps very little that much of the not-all-that-civilized world covets their neighbor’s anything at all:

Envy may be the most powerful immaterial force known to Man. It’s been the principal retardant of all human progress. No “natural disaster” can compare to its corrosive effect. When envy is mated to a perceptible difference between the envious and the envied, the combination frequently proves deadly.

Come to think of it, I don’t remember any of that corrosion going on in the Emerald City.

“Oh, our friends think nothing of it,
To sit around and covet
The things they do not need;
They become downright vicious
When their thoughts are avaricious
And we see them for their greed.”

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It was a very odd year

Frank Sinatra did it his way; I figure, I might as well do it mine.

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A shot or two of Barbasol

At least one person thought that Oreo’s Most Stuf didn’t look appetizing, and this was the result:

Once in a while, I/m actually sort of sharp.

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Van Haiku

Might as well jump in and pass this around:

This sort of thing is why I don’t have 837,000 followers.

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The pentameter’s reading funny

Security is lacking, I declare;
However many layers there do lie,
Not one allows connection, to yourself,
Or to another who might wish to try.
This service cannot be performed; I beg,
Please try again tomorrow at this time,
Lest we conclude that there is no more rhyme.

Shakespeare quote of the day: an SSL error has occurred and a secure connection to the server cannot be made

(From reddit via Miss Cellania.)

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I feel bad for you, son

Well, we’re having sales problems, really under the gun,
We’ve sold 99 Cadillacs, the product’s done.

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Siri has a sister in the auto biz

With apologies to Macca:

Siri has a sister in the auto biz,
Says your car does everything you like;
Always second-guesses you, and makes you mad,
And makes you get out of the car and take a hike.
OBD, then AI, then who knows? Damn!
All these gadgets make you cry.
OBD, then AI, then who knows? Damn!
All these gadgets make you cry.

This is the sort of thing that makes me more determined to make my 13-year-old car last another 13 years.

(Via Autoblog.)

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It’s supposed to Sting

There’s a line of ex-workers trailing down the street
(That’s our Mitt back there)
There’s a capital gain and ain’t that awful sweet
(That’s our Mitt back there)
There’s a lot of red ink in the books today
It’s the same old debt as yesterday

It’s a leveraged buyout, it may cause some pain
It is certainly legal, but against the grain
Watch the GOP go spiral down the drain
As they try to sell us on the King of Bain

(Suggested by Nathan Wurtzel. And yes, I have beaten this particular horse before.)

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That’s your email there

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Strange search-engine queries (269)

Seven AM, waking up in the morning
Gotta sit up, gotta work the brain
Gotta have my logs, gotta have all the lines
Seeing everything, the time is going
Ticking on and on, everybody’s rushing
Gotta log on and then go post this
Gotta get to work before my friends

Googlers in the front seat
Yahoos in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Whose snark shall I take?

It’s Monday, Monday
Doing this thing on Monday
Everybody’s looking forward to the queries, queries
Monday, Monday
Five years now on Monday
Everybody’s looking forward to the new jokes.

(With apologies to Rebecca Black.)

“abstinence makes the tart go yonder”:  Assuming, of course, that is what you had in mind in the first place.

can never please:  In which case, you should probably not be looking for a position as a tart.

Alienating fear dust from reality, enchanted soundscapes decade of my reasons! Run Fly intercept:  You know, there is such a thing as too much gaming.

can propecia cause brain damage:  Look at it this way. If you’re obsessed about the appearance of the outside of your head, you don’t have time to worry about the inside of it, do you?

chewable viagra:  Not a good idea. For one thing, it tells your partner that you can’t or won’t swallow.

Gloria Steinem nice legs:  Betty Friedan, also. Not that either of them would want you to remember them for that.

city triangles junior pick up balloon dread castro from younger:  One should not use search engines while taking Ambien, and this is why.

how to mention your birthday:  Look puzzled, then say: “Wasn’t I supposed to be at a party right about now?”

itching-powder rival panties:  Middle school certainly has gotten vicious these days.

Frank zappa current state creativity loss:  The present-day composer is presently decomposing, which surely cuts down on his ongoing creativity.

yasser arafat is schrodinger’s cat:  You’d have to open the coffin to be sure.

“ode to billie joe” king uszniewicz:  Now there’s a cover not even Brian Ibbott would play. (If you’re not familiar with King Uszniewicz and his Uszniewicz-Tones, start here.)

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Back in the paper again

Somewhere on staff there’s a friend
   ‘Cause the Monday op-ed
   Points to something I said
And I wonder when all this will end.

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Grim Spector

Left her in the hallway, while I watched, she died
Da doo ron ron ron, da doo ron ron
Hoping they were gonna rule it suicide
Da doo ron ron ron, da doo ron ron
Yeah, I watched, she died
No, it wasn’t suicide
And now I’m off to jail
Da doo ron ron ron, da doo ron ron

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A show tune from the future

The song of the seagull is different these days
Its cry has turned into a sneer
But no one has noticed the change in the air
Since all of those turbines came here
The sky and the ocean were sisters in sight
Reflecting each other in style
But now there are shadows that fall on the shore
And they’re going to be here for a while

The whirring of blades can be heard through the night
A slice here, a dice there, and more
Industrial processes ought to be banned
Their presence makes all of us poor
What happened to beauty, to sense of delight?
These horrid things really aren’t green
They’ve ruined our life on the hills by the sea
Where the wind turbine farm can be seen

They told us that this was the best of the ways
To produce all that power we used
We told them that surely there must be another
But bureaucrats coldly refused
“Since oil is just awful and nuclear worse
There’s no other option,” they said
And so they destroyed everything we hold dear
So our seaside existence is dead

We still hear the blades as they cut through the sky
From daybreak on into the night
We still see the shadows that fall on the shore
The darkness that shatters the bright
It wasn’t our fault that they built all these things
Our hands, they are perfectly clean
And we curse all the world from the hills by the sea
Where the wind turbine farm can be seen

(Suggested, quite unintentionally, by Tam.)

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Thunder Road II

News Item: The Tennessee Department of Revenue said Friday that it will begin conducting surveillance of state-line tobacco retailers in other states. In July, Tennessee’s cigarette tax went from 20 cents per pack to 62 cents per pack, an incentive for many Tennessee residents to cross the state line to buy cigarettes at stores in neighboring states.

“Let me tell the story, with or without jokes,
About the mountain boys who hauled illegal packs of smokes;
Nashville raised the taxes, from ‘low’ to ‘quite a load,’
And so once more the smugglers drove the length of Thunder Road.”

Now is anyone, with the possible exception of the Tennessee Department of Revenue, at all surprised that people will go out of state to avoid paying a tax they think is too high?

And Tam wants to know:

[D]oes the tax increase cover the operating expenses of the new geheimes staatspolizei they’ll need to stake out every cross-border convenience store and supermarket?

I suspect that when revenues fall short of projections, they’ll, um, make the adjustments they deem appropriate.

(Submitted to the Beltway Traffic Jam.)

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Beef: it’s what’s for decoration

Rocket Jones backs away from the meat counter:

The newest fad at the supermarket is “All Angus Beef”. That’s right, if you eat those inferior breeds of cow, you aren’t getting “All Angus Beef”, and that is supposed to make you feel uncomfortable in some vague way.

And if that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, this will. With apologies to the late Roger Miller:

    Here I sit, full, gettin’ ideas
    Ain’t nothin’ but a fool to eat like this
    T-bone steak, great entree
    Sucker cost me almost two days’ pay

    Angus, dang us,
    They oughta take a rope and hang us
    Ten ninety-nine a pound —
    Lordy, what a fool they found

    Just sittin’ round grillin’ on a Saturday,
    Six, eight burgers, maybe four filet,
    Total bill was like half the rent
    I mean thirty-eight dollars and forty-seven cent

    So Angus, dang us,
    They oughta take a rope and hang us
    Ten ninety-nine a pound —
    Lordy, what a fool they found

(Disclosure: Actually written after dinner last night.)

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