Monday, November 28, 2005
My Omniscient Beetle
Since I have little knowlede about how to make this picture any bigger, you'll have to go to to the trouble of clicking it to see its dubious contents...
Saturday, November 26, 2005
FLY LOW WHEN YOU’RE NOT APT TO SOARING: The Rise and Fall of Icarus
Minos the great king of
Managed a marvelous feat
No one knows how
He mixed a man with a cow
And got a treacherous beast with bull’s feet.
But in a fit of ox-like rage
The man-thing broke out
With a bovine shout.
The mutant had come of age.
The beast beat his guards black and blue
First he would beat them
Then he would eat them
He would hang up their uniforms too.
About the
Should he tie up the beast
Or let him continue his feast
And let him devour all and sundry?
What should the man do next?
He decided to get
A home for his pet
And put out ads for the best architects
The king, Daedelus espied
He passed every test
Yes, he was the best
His genius could not be denied
A stupid sonuvagun
Being so smart
One should have the art
To procreate a brighter one
Too dull to pass out of school
He had wool in his head
His grey cells were dead
But he thought himself awfully cool
Daedelus would congratulate her
On bearing a child
So willful and wild
Who got all jokes five minutes later
Really loved the stupid lad
He decided to take him
Rather than forsake him
And leave him there lonely and sad
They traveled many a mile
Daedelus wondered
He thought, and he pondered
How to hold the beast, coarse and vile
While he sat in
An answer to the enigma he sought
When the answer he found
In leaps and in bounds
He ran to Minos’ court
A maze is just the thing
It’ll hold
And keep him from sin
A maze is just the thing!”
As from his throne he alighted,
“We’ll start work today
For with the pass of each day
My soldiers resign, affrighted”
The greatest in all the land
From the next day’s dawning
Early in the morning
They built it according to plan
You’ll wander around for days
You’ll die of starvation
Or harsh mastication
By the Minotaur ravenous and crazed
If you’re stuck, don’t scream, don’t shout
Turn right at every bend
Turn right till the end
You’ll move from within to without
Was beautiful, slim and petite
She wasn’t as bad
As the king, her dad
She was cultured, refined and neat
In the princess of
Daedelus gave her
The clue that would save her
If she ever got stuck inside it
Minos was crazed and insane
“One must tell the king
Before planning such things!”
And he clamped dad and son in chains
It hurt him deep inside
“The ruling monarch
The Royal Patriarch,
In him must you confide!”
He was a fiendishly devious man
“I’ll send the damn Greek
To the maze for a week.
Let him escape if he can.”
And, as Minos for this one had planned,
Blindfolded and dazed
He threw them in the maze
With their feet tied to their hands
He relaxed, breathed out, and reflected
With a sharp bit of stone
Cut rope, flesh and bone
(But in legends such things are expected)
Their clothes were torn and in tatters
But you wouldn’t mind
If monsters unkind
Were the urgent, pressing matters
Daedelus was awfully bright
He dealt without haste
With the problems he faced
Things would turn out alright
He was put on a special diet
Of thousands of birds
And cattle in herds
And
Collected some bones and some feathers
There were masses left over
From chickens and plovers
And plenty of hide to gather
Like glue, some blood, and some string
With feathers and bone
And adhesives alone
They made two pairs of wings
It was actually on that very day
Man’s first flight
Was before the Wrights
Well, that’s what the Greek legends say
With his newly invented toys
He soared and he swooped
He looped the loop
What a reckless, irresponsible boy!
Daedelus, with a weary sigh
Said, “Son, don’t fly too high,
The heat of the day
Will melt wax away
And you will fall down and die.”
As higher and higher he soared
But in 9.8 seconds
As gravity beckons
The fool wasn’t flying no more
A terrible death died he
Waving and thrashing
Cursing and splashing
He sunk like a biscuit in tea
But in fact, they’re not worth ignoring
As all others do
This has one too
‘Fly low when you’re not apt to soaring.’
Whew!
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Take Up Thy Pukulele and Walk
I once thought sobriety, as way of life,
Is a matter deserving rebuke.
But it’s hard to decry
Such modi vivendi
When you’re cleaning up someone’s puke.