Date: Fri, 21 May 2004 17:24:24 -0400
Subject: Re: Important Message From The LMB

In alt.religion.kibology, asweinbe@uchicago.edu wrote:

The moving finger of John D Salt  wrote and then moved on:
>Plorkwort will now compose "Le Chanson de Morelard", and 

This isn't quite it, either.  In fact, I'm not quite sure /what/ this is.

Ten and a Half Ways of Looking at a Blackbird and More Lard

Metaphysical: Hear the voice of the Lard
Who present, past, and future sees
And heard the voice of the Blackbird
That sang among the ancient trees!

Agressiv:  Si j'ai un merle comme cette en glasse,
Il faudrait sur-le-neige que je l'amputasse !"

Descriptif: It is a pie, a cake, a pizzq!
No, it is a blackbird.

Tennyson:  Bowed by the weight of centuries
The village blackbird stands
Eyes as hot as mossy stones
And wings like rubber bands.

Mathematical: A blackbird and a crow
Are one.
A blackbird and a penguin and a block of lard
Are one.

Depressif: Nevermore.

Beatle-browed: The blackbird  sings alone at night
Except when it is encased in lard.

Chudnovskian: one: a bird.
o birds! gravenous
on fences, wings and tails
billowed blackness

Captain Marvel's Lamentation: By the rivers of the Scorpion God,
I wept because I had no head.
Like a man who has three trees
And not a blackbird in any.

Obscure: Among a pale parabola life, like a blackbird, flies.
Mainly in lard, though now and then in chocolate.

Exigeant: Donnez-moi, maraud, faquin, butor de pied plat ridicule,        
Toute le saindoux du monde, immédiatement!

Plorkwort
-- 
Septimus: So the Improved Newtonian Universe must cease and grow cold. Dear me.
Thomasina: Yes, we must hurry if we are going to dance.
        --Tom Stoppard, _Arcadia_

Date: Sun, 23 May 2004 16:07:49 -0400
Subject: [ark] Re: Important Message From The LMB

In alt.religion.kibology, asweinbe@uchicago.edu wrote:

The moving finger of Bryce Utting  wrote and then moved on:
>And finally, with sobs and sighs in language deeply felt:
>O, that this too, too solid lard would melt.

Beautiful!  Yes, this couplet is what was missing.

Plorkwort
-- 
Septimus: So the Improved Newtonian Universe must cease and grow cold. Dear me.
Thomasina: Yes, we must hurry if we are going to dance.
        --Tom Stoppard, _Arcadia_