Wednesday, January 04, 2006
A return to the past
Since I'm done with my original work for the day, what follows is a piece I wrote about two years ago. It is short and sassy, and has served me well. It could easily be expanded-upon, if such were my mood. All I would have to do would be to decide which other aphorisms to skewer.
"Proverbs"
"It's always darkest before the dawn,"
Now, what kind of crap is that?
The doughty blush of the atmosphere
Is rolled by the sun thereat.
"There're plenty of fish in the sea, my friend,"
Will hardly give satisfaction
To a man who's been screwed by his paramour,
Or the whimsy of love's light attraction.
"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,"
Is a very strange thing, as you know.
For having a bird in one's hand is quite odd,
And two in a bush doubly so.
"Slowly but steady shall win the race,"
Has sent many men to their death.
The slow are o'errun by the fleetest of foot
As, crawling, they struggle for breath.
"Sticks and stones will break my bones,
But words shall harm me barely."
Nonsense, of course; words are Hell-forged knives
That skewer poor devils unfairly.
Now, clearly there are problems. The language can't decide whether it wants to be playful or grave, and the sayings suffer somewhat in the process of satisfying various poetic constraints. That being said, however, it's a good solid format that is endlessly repeatable. Witness:
"The devil makes work for idle hands"
Has put many young sloth in a tizzy;
The trouble, of course, is that Old Knock prefers
To bamboozle the hands of the busy.
And so on. I'd like to work in that stupid "whatever floats your boat" saying, because it is bankrupt and awful. It's a bland appeal to diversity that somehow manages to disguise the fact that there are not a multitude of things that will float boats; there is one; it is water.
The possibilities are endless. ¶ 9:53 AM
"Proverbs"
"It's always darkest before the dawn,"
Now, what kind of crap is that?
The doughty blush of the atmosphere
Is rolled by the sun thereat.
"There're plenty of fish in the sea, my friend,"
Will hardly give satisfaction
To a man who's been screwed by his paramour,
Or the whimsy of love's light attraction.
"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,"
Is a very strange thing, as you know.
For having a bird in one's hand is quite odd,
And two in a bush doubly so.
"Slowly but steady shall win the race,"
Has sent many men to their death.
The slow are o'errun by the fleetest of foot
As, crawling, they struggle for breath.
"Sticks and stones will break my bones,
But words shall harm me barely."
Nonsense, of course; words are Hell-forged knives
That skewer poor devils unfairly.
Now, clearly there are problems. The language can't decide whether it wants to be playful or grave, and the sayings suffer somewhat in the process of satisfying various poetic constraints. That being said, however, it's a good solid format that is endlessly repeatable. Witness:
"The devil makes work for idle hands"
Has put many young sloth in a tizzy;
The trouble, of course, is that Old Knock prefers
To bamboozle the hands of the busy.
And so on. I'd like to work in that stupid "whatever floats your boat" saying, because it is bankrupt and awful. It's a bland appeal to diversity that somehow manages to disguise the fact that there are not a multitude of things that will float boats; there is one; it is water.
The possibilities are endless. ¶ 9:53 AM
