Belic Ἀντισθένης

    " the Tell "

    Thursday, December 11, 2008, 02:37 AM CST [General]

    " the Tell "

     

     

     

     

     

    this cometh from the future; i only bring to ye with sorcery ... and for this i myte be scathed and flogged ... mayhaps even worse  ...  but it speaketh of what we all do -  that what we must  ...   from the tale of  Mad Max;  him that doth walketh away; and thus survive ...  beyond the Thunderdome  ...

     

    "This you knows. The years travel fast.
                      
    And time after time
    I've done the Tell. 
                      
    But this ain't one body's Tell.
    It's the Tell of us all. 
                      
    And you got to listen it and 'member. 
                      
    'Cause what you hears today,
    you got to tell the newborn tomorrow. 
                      
    I's looking behind us now,
    into history back. 
                      
    I sees those of us that got the luck
    and started the haul for home.  
                      
    It lead us here and we was heartful
    'cause we seen what there once was. 
                      
    One look, and we knewed
    we'd got it straight. 
                      
    Those what had gone before had knowing
    of things beyond our reckoning                   
    . . .   even beyond our dreaming.  
                      
    Time counts and keeps counting. 
                      
    And we knows now                  
    . . .   finding the trick of what's
    been and lost ain't no easy ride.  
                      
    But that's our track.
    We got to travel it. 
                      
    And there ain't nobody knows
    where it's gonna lead. 
                      
    Still and all, every night
    we does the Tell                  
    . . .   so that we 'member who we was
    and where we came from. 
                      
    But most of all we 'members
    the man who finded us  
                      
    . . .   him that came the salvage. 
                      
    And we lights the city.
    Not just for him                  
    . . .   but for all of them
    that are still out there.  
                      
    'Cause we knows
    there'll come a night... 
                      
    . . .   when they sees the distant light... 
                      
    . . .   and they'll be coming home. "

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    the code of Hammurabi concerning BEER

    Thursday, December 11, 2008, 12:41 AM CST [General]

    Hammurabi, the king of Babylon,  in the 18th century BC  doth codify his laws ...  and felt that two offenses related to beer carried importance :

    the first being:  any beer parlor owner who chargeth his customers too much faced death by drowning ...

    secondly: be found a high priestess  consorting of these parlors, she wouldst be burned to death ....

    wouldst thee naught require said laws anon 

     

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    dedicated to Sir Mikel

    Wednesday, December 10, 2008, 06:10 PM CST [General]

    Thou art an artless, base-court apple-john,
    Beslubb'ring all whose gaze thou looks upon,
    Thou bootless, beatle-headed, bladder bug,
    Churlishly boil-brained, clapper-clawed old slug!
    Thou art so common-kissing, canker-clawed,
    Dissembling, dizzy-eyed and mealy-mawed!
    Thy dankish, dismal-dreaming, clotpoled ways
    Are more errant, in thy unmuzzled daze,
    Than any foot-licked, flea-bit flap-dragon,
    Or gleeking, half-faced, hedge-pigged jothead on
    A paunchy, ill-bred, loutish miscreant -
    Thou ever moldwarped, spleeny sycophant!
    Were thou less blind in thy bummed, venomed spleen,
    Thou wouldst know very well ... it's thee I mean!

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    rude society

    Friday, December 5, 2008, 12:03 AM CST [General]

    Such inordinate and low desires,
    Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,
    Such barren pleasures, rude society,
    As thou art match'd withal, and grafted to!

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    that reverend vice

    Thursday, December 4, 2008, 03:12 PM CST [General]

     

    Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey Iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years?

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