Arthur of the Roundish Table (Ch-6)
The knights had returned from the Great Quest for the Religious Taxes. All except our heroes Tristan and Lancelot, but that is another story.
The chief knights as well as Blaise and the Archbishop of Canterbury were convened in the Royal Master Bedroom, grieving greatly for their Great King. The bedroom was huge, smaller than the room of the Roundish Table, but pretty big for a master bedroom, like the kind you might find in Vegas, but I digress.
Archbishop Robertson was preparing for the granting of Extreme Unction and this was the extremest of all the unctions because the spirit of the most extreme leader had flown to the aethersphere. Or so they thought.
The great Bishop was dressed in the finest of apparel which he must now guard carefully due to a downturn in the economy and the new value added tax that had just been instituted.
Amo, amas amat, we must deal with what we got
The spirit that once resided here
Had been seriously injured in his butt
And we all must pray and make it clear
That we truly rue the ache in our gut
Gareth leant over to Gawain and quietly noted that this was indeed a strange rite. Gawain noted that the Bishop had been of late in Wales and the Welsh talk funny.
All of a sudden, in the midst of the ruing, The Great King's eyes opened and he gave a great sigh.
Oh my God!!!
All the knights knelt and made the sign of the cross of Our Savior Jesus Christ.
Oh, oh, my friends. All of my friends are here.
Blaise was taken aback and the Bishop was most relieved because he had left his rite scrolls in Wales and could not, for the life of him recall the rite for Extreme Unction.
Oh, I have been before the Lord!!!
All of the knights knelt again and made the sign.
Tell us more oh great King, all chimed in.
I was in the most sacred of sacred forests. And the animals of the forest were all around me and my knights. And there were singing, singing...hedge hogs. That's it, singing hedge hogs. And they were dancing and singing and there was a wonder in the midst of this forest!!!!
Yes, yes sire. We were there with you and the great God ASPCA was there...Gareth noted.
THE WHAT?
There was the great demon of the forest, ASPCS. And we had slain the greatest of Stags and yet the great Stage arose after Gawain had nailed him with a cross bow and...
WHO IS TELLING THIS STORY ANYWAY? Anyway, as I was saying before I was most imprudently interrupted...All of a sudden, as I was kneeling in prayer to Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I felt a distinct and sharp pain in my innerds and...
Bedivere turned most quietly to Blaise, and scowled.
...and, the sky opened up and there was Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and He was singing and smiling. And with him were the greatest of the seraphims and the cheribims and I felt this delight that I had never felt before and then I found myself laying here. But at the time, I felt the Holy Spirit had entered me, in a way I had never felt the Holy Spirit before and I was uplifted to a point of such pleasure, such ecstasy that I knew there had to be a God and I knew there was a heaven.
Blaise asked the King if he had ever felt anything like that before.
Oh Blaise, never, never, never in all my born days. And yet I felt an itch like this once before watching Lancelot joust. A very faint itch.
Bedivere felt something take over him and he said to the King, Sire what a story, I will be right back. And Bedivere ran to the maid's quarters and began laughing, laughing harder than he had ever laughed in his life. Tears were flowing down his bearded face when at once Merlin arrived.
What is so funny, asked Merlin? And how is the Extreme Function going? I have to perform the real Royal Rite before the body is too cold. Oh when will these pagan Christians ever learn? The Celts have their own beliefs that are thousands of years old. Tsk, tsk, tsk... And you know, I always told Arthur to watch is back side. What could he have been thinking.
Bedivere was just about to compose himself and these words from Merlin threw him back into a rage of laughter, uncontrollable. He was actually having trouble breathing. Merlin held out his hand and the craziness left Bedivere.
Bedivere composed himself and said, Merlin a miracle just occurred. The King is alive. The King lives!!!!.
But, he was dead. Surely he was dead as a republican in Massachusetts.
Merlin, what is a republican?
But did he speak? Did he have anything to say?
Merlin, he feels that he had died and went to the heavens and that Our Lord Jesus Christ has sent him back to us. He seems to remember the forest, and the wondrous display of animals but nothing after that.
We now return to the nunnery with Tristan and Lancelot
Our heroes found themselves at a moderate but ornate table with the Abyss, and she inquired of them, thusly:
A note was sent to this nunnery from a Lancy Pantsy. Do either of you know a Lancy Pantsy?
Before I continue on that note, did either of you perchance espy the man tied to a horse who had left just before your arrival?
Why yes I did, Tristan responded.
Well that was Father Rather. The priest who held the esteemed position of Pater of the Chalice. Each nunnery is sent a priest from the Archbishop to over see the operations of the nunnery,as if women need supervision from men. Anyway, over the past twelfthmonth, there have been three immaculate conceptions in this sacred place. I am beginning to feel like a day care provider.
At once, Lancelot began counting on his fingers. After a pause he sighed with great relief.
Tristan, a little brighter than his partner in rhyme, counted on his toes and came to a similar conclusion.
I began feeling suspicious, since only six or seven nights had visited here at times that might add up to fatherhood. The Abyss continued, and, do not think I am unawares of your toe action.
Every nunnery has an 'Immaculate Conception' every few years or so. But this thing at gotten out of hand, so to speak. I set up a network to follow the actions of our Pater of the Chalice and caught him breaking his vows and some commandments at the same time. I had my sketch artist come in and related the goings on. I then prepared a report and sent it straight to the Vatican.
So, you tied the priest to his horse, all by yourself? Lancelot inquired with some trepidation. And awe.
COME AT ONCE OH FURIES.
And at once eight of the largest most muscular women our heroes had ever seen appeared in the room, circled around the table. They were all armed with cross bows and carried scowls the likes of which neither knight had ever seen.
Now as to this note. Do either of you know a LANCY PANTSY?
All of a sudden, Tristan jumped up and with all his strength upended the table and screamed
RUN FOR IT LANCY PANTSY.
They both went through the window on the east wall, facing the horses and once on the ground scrambled to rise and shake off the glass chards stuck to their armor and jumped on the steeds and proceeded at a gallop not known since Badon.
Lancelot looked behind and the furies were following at a furious pace on giant dark steeds with white robes flowing behind them, ranting:
On Prancer, on Dancer, on Cancer and Vixen
On Pacer, on Racer, on Tracer and Nixon
Just then the sky became dark, a darkness not seen by the heroes since their sojourn to the castle of the Red Knight and fear grasped the two knights.
As Lancelot looked back, the furies appeared to rise into the air with their horses cross bows aimed. Arrows began to fall all around our heroes. Thank the Lord that their mail kept the sting of those missiles to a minimum.
All of a sudden as the furies were almost over them, they reached the forest and magically, the furies turned and flew away.
After a quarter of an hour, Lancelot and Tristan alighted from their steeds, huffing and puffing and sweating with fear.
They immediately fell to their knees. Whether it was to do homage to their God or just out of pure exhaustion, is not for us to judge. They did however thank their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
I have seen the errors of my ways. I shall never sleep with another woman -or girl for that matter-of the cloth, Lancelot proclaimed.
Tristan joined in the confession and vow. I will never touch a woman again as long as I live!!!
Lets not go too far in this vowing thing, TT. Let us just lay off, so to speak, the cloth.
Tristan, thought for a moment.
I mean, we do sleep in the forest a lot, a least lately, and I just would feel better if you proclaimed that you still like women, if you know what I mean!!! Lancelot said with some urgency.
I agree. I guess I was just caught in the moment, so to speak.
All of a sudden, Lancelot began to laugh. Roaring with laughter he said: Tristan have you ever seen an uglier woman in your life!!!! The Great Abyss was one of those ogres sung by bards and written about by folks like Blaise.
Tristan's snicker became more pronounced and grew into a mighty laugh. Those harpies were the scariest things I have ever witnessed.
WE NOW RETURN TO CAMELOT
The scene opens in the room of the roundish table with Blaise and the chief knights less our two heroes.
Gawain, I congratulate you; you must have forced your brother into the baths!!! Bedivere gleamed.
Yes, Sir Bedivere, and we are much the better for it. I even took a dip. But why was this meeting called?
Well this meeting gentle knights regards some dipping of a sort that greatly saddens me and has caused our Great King's blood to boil. He wished to join us since he called this meeting, but he is having difficulty in sitting up so to speak. Blaise is here to go over the sacred books.
But we had Bible reading this morn at mass and the Archbishop presided. How often does that happen where you can receive the Body and Blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ right from the hand of the Archbishop?
Not those sacred papers Sir Thingamajig. I am referring to the sacred papers of the Kingdom. I am referring to the accounting books, so to speak and Blaise has an announcement regarding the numbers.
I have received letters of transmittal from all of the abbeys, monasteries, friaries and cathedrals within a hundred mile radius. They all communicate the amount of monies collected by our knights in their Sacred Quest of the Taxes. I have received 513 ounces of gold.
Before I get into specifics, I would ask Gawain, how much gold did you collect at the three cathedrals and the monastery?
Well, Sir Bedivere, we collected 183 ounces of gold. No 186 ounces. That's it. 186. Then why did not Blaise write down 186?
Oh because I had commissions I had to pay out.
What commissions?
Well the head of the three cathedrals all got one ounce.
Gareth received 13 ounces.
And I took my annual bonus of 63 ounces.
Who authorized the bonus, Sir Gawain.
Well that is always my bonus.
But Sir Gawain, your tax collections for the year are down 200 ounces from last year. Why should you receive the same bonus as last year?
Well, Sir Bedivere, there are costs involved and the price of things is going up.
I WANT EVERY KNIGHT HERE TO WALK UP TO MY SIDE OF THE ROUNDISH TABLE AND EMPTY OUT YOUR POCKETS, RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The chief knights as well as Blaise and the Archbishop of Canterbury were convened in the Royal Master Bedroom, grieving greatly for their Great King. The bedroom was huge, smaller than the room of the Roundish Table, but pretty big for a master bedroom, like the kind you might find in Vegas, but I digress.
Archbishop Robertson was preparing for the granting of Extreme Unction and this was the extremest of all the unctions because the spirit of the most extreme leader had flown to the aethersphere. Or so they thought.
The great Bishop was dressed in the finest of apparel which he must now guard carefully due to a downturn in the economy and the new value added tax that had just been instituted.
Amo, amas amat, we must deal with what we got
The spirit that once resided here
Had been seriously injured in his butt
And we all must pray and make it clear
That we truly rue the ache in our gut
Gareth leant over to Gawain and quietly noted that this was indeed a strange rite. Gawain noted that the Bishop had been of late in Wales and the Welsh talk funny.
All of a sudden, in the midst of the ruing, The Great King's eyes opened and he gave a great sigh.
Oh my God!!!
All the knights knelt and made the sign of the cross of Our Savior Jesus Christ.
Oh, oh, my friends. All of my friends are here.
Blaise was taken aback and the Bishop was most relieved because he had left his rite scrolls in Wales and could not, for the life of him recall the rite for Extreme Unction.
Oh, I have been before the Lord!!!
All of the knights knelt again and made the sign.
Tell us more oh great King, all chimed in.
I was in the most sacred of sacred forests. And the animals of the forest were all around me and my knights. And there were singing, singing...hedge hogs. That's it, singing hedge hogs. And they were dancing and singing and there was a wonder in the midst of this forest!!!!
Yes, yes sire. We were there with you and the great God ASPCA was there...Gareth noted.
THE WHAT?
There was the great demon of the forest, ASPCS. And we had slain the greatest of Stags and yet the great Stage arose after Gawain had nailed him with a cross bow and...
WHO IS TELLING THIS STORY ANYWAY? Anyway, as I was saying before I was most imprudently interrupted...All of a sudden, as I was kneeling in prayer to Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I felt a distinct and sharp pain in my innerds and...
Bedivere turned most quietly to Blaise, and scowled.
...and, the sky opened up and there was Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and He was singing and smiling. And with him were the greatest of the seraphims and the cheribims and I felt this delight that I had never felt before and then I found myself laying here. But at the time, I felt the Holy Spirit had entered me, in a way I had never felt the Holy Spirit before and I was uplifted to a point of such pleasure, such ecstasy that I knew there had to be a God and I knew there was a heaven.
Blaise asked the King if he had ever felt anything like that before.
Oh Blaise, never, never, never in all my born days. And yet I felt an itch like this once before watching Lancelot joust. A very faint itch.
Bedivere felt something take over him and he said to the King, Sire what a story, I will be right back. And Bedivere ran to the maid's quarters and began laughing, laughing harder than he had ever laughed in his life. Tears were flowing down his bearded face when at once Merlin arrived.
What is so funny, asked Merlin? And how is the Extreme Function going? I have to perform the real Royal Rite before the body is too cold. Oh when will these pagan Christians ever learn? The Celts have their own beliefs that are thousands of years old. Tsk, tsk, tsk... And you know, I always told Arthur to watch is back side. What could he have been thinking.
Bedivere was just about to compose himself and these words from Merlin threw him back into a rage of laughter, uncontrollable. He was actually having trouble breathing. Merlin held out his hand and the craziness left Bedivere.
Bedivere composed himself and said, Merlin a miracle just occurred. The King is alive. The King lives!!!!.
But, he was dead. Surely he was dead as a republican in Massachusetts.
Merlin, what is a republican?
But did he speak? Did he have anything to say?
Merlin, he feels that he had died and went to the heavens and that Our Lord Jesus Christ has sent him back to us. He seems to remember the forest, and the wondrous display of animals but nothing after that.
We now return to the nunnery with Tristan and Lancelot
Our heroes found themselves at a moderate but ornate table with the Abyss, and she inquired of them, thusly:
A note was sent to this nunnery from a Lancy Pantsy. Do either of you know a Lancy Pantsy?
Before I continue on that note, did either of you perchance espy the man tied to a horse who had left just before your arrival?
Why yes I did, Tristan responded.
Well that was Father Rather. The priest who held the esteemed position of Pater of the Chalice. Each nunnery is sent a priest from the Archbishop to over see the operations of the nunnery,as if women need supervision from men. Anyway, over the past twelfthmonth, there have been three immaculate conceptions in this sacred place. I am beginning to feel like a day care provider.
At once, Lancelot began counting on his fingers. After a pause he sighed with great relief.
Tristan, a little brighter than his partner in rhyme, counted on his toes and came to a similar conclusion.
I began feeling suspicious, since only six or seven nights had visited here at times that might add up to fatherhood. The Abyss continued, and, do not think I am unawares of your toe action.
Every nunnery has an 'Immaculate Conception' every few years or so. But this thing at gotten out of hand, so to speak. I set up a network to follow the actions of our Pater of the Chalice and caught him breaking his vows and some commandments at the same time. I had my sketch artist come in and related the goings on. I then prepared a report and sent it straight to the Vatican.
So, you tied the priest to his horse, all by yourself? Lancelot inquired with some trepidation. And awe.
COME AT ONCE OH FURIES.
And at once eight of the largest most muscular women our heroes had ever seen appeared in the room, circled around the table. They were all armed with cross bows and carried scowls the likes of which neither knight had ever seen.
Now as to this note. Do either of you know a LANCY PANTSY?
All of a sudden, Tristan jumped up and with all his strength upended the table and screamed
RUN FOR IT LANCY PANTSY.
They both went through the window on the east wall, facing the horses and once on the ground scrambled to rise and shake off the glass chards stuck to their armor and jumped on the steeds and proceeded at a gallop not known since Badon.
Lancelot looked behind and the furies were following at a furious pace on giant dark steeds with white robes flowing behind them, ranting:
On Prancer, on Dancer, on Cancer and Vixen
On Pacer, on Racer, on Tracer and Nixon
Just then the sky became dark, a darkness not seen by the heroes since their sojourn to the castle of the Red Knight and fear grasped the two knights.
As Lancelot looked back, the furies appeared to rise into the air with their horses cross bows aimed. Arrows began to fall all around our heroes. Thank the Lord that their mail kept the sting of those missiles to a minimum.
All of a sudden as the furies were almost over them, they reached the forest and magically, the furies turned and flew away.
After a quarter of an hour, Lancelot and Tristan alighted from their steeds, huffing and puffing and sweating with fear.
They immediately fell to their knees. Whether it was to do homage to their God or just out of pure exhaustion, is not for us to judge. They did however thank their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
I have seen the errors of my ways. I shall never sleep with another woman -or girl for that matter-of the cloth, Lancelot proclaimed.
Tristan joined in the confession and vow. I will never touch a woman again as long as I live!!!
Lets not go too far in this vowing thing, TT. Let us just lay off, so to speak, the cloth.
Tristan, thought for a moment.
I mean, we do sleep in the forest a lot, a least lately, and I just would feel better if you proclaimed that you still like women, if you know what I mean!!! Lancelot said with some urgency.
I agree. I guess I was just caught in the moment, so to speak.
All of a sudden, Lancelot began to laugh. Roaring with laughter he said: Tristan have you ever seen an uglier woman in your life!!!! The Great Abyss was one of those ogres sung by bards and written about by folks like Blaise.
Tristan's snicker became more pronounced and grew into a mighty laugh. Those harpies were the scariest things I have ever witnessed.
WE NOW RETURN TO CAMELOT
The scene opens in the room of the roundish table with Blaise and the chief knights less our two heroes.
Gawain, I congratulate you; you must have forced your brother into the baths!!! Bedivere gleamed.
Yes, Sir Bedivere, and we are much the better for it. I even took a dip. But why was this meeting called?
Well this meeting gentle knights regards some dipping of a sort that greatly saddens me and has caused our Great King's blood to boil. He wished to join us since he called this meeting, but he is having difficulty in sitting up so to speak. Blaise is here to go over the sacred books.
But we had Bible reading this morn at mass and the Archbishop presided. How often does that happen where you can receive the Body and Blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ right from the hand of the Archbishop?
Not those sacred papers Sir Thingamajig. I am referring to the sacred papers of the Kingdom. I am referring to the accounting books, so to speak and Blaise has an announcement regarding the numbers.
I have received letters of transmittal from all of the abbeys, monasteries, friaries and cathedrals within a hundred mile radius. They all communicate the amount of monies collected by our knights in their Sacred Quest of the Taxes. I have received 513 ounces of gold.
Before I get into specifics, I would ask Gawain, how much gold did you collect at the three cathedrals and the monastery?
Well, Sir Bedivere, we collected 183 ounces of gold. No 186 ounces. That's it. 186. Then why did not Blaise write down 186?
Oh because I had commissions I had to pay out.
What commissions?
Well the head of the three cathedrals all got one ounce.
Gareth received 13 ounces.
And I took my annual bonus of 63 ounces.
Who authorized the bonus, Sir Gawain.
Well that is always my bonus.
But Sir Gawain, your tax collections for the year are down 200 ounces from last year. Why should you receive the same bonus as last year?
Well, Sir Bedivere, there are costs involved and the price of things is going up.
I WANT EVERY KNIGHT HERE TO WALK UP TO MY SIDE OF THE ROUNDISH TABLE AND EMPTY OUT YOUR POCKETS, RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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dd, you have been waiting feverishly for my KUDOS and KUDOS you get!
dd, you are truly, day by day - as this yarn unravels (or as it is knitted - take your pick!), but day by day, dd, it is getting better. You are like a long-distance runner who has found his stride. And dd, I bet you could make a mint. We, here, your loyal readers, are thrilled with each chapter, nearly killed with the puns and jokes as our bodies ache with laughter, and the way you simply close one scene and begin another is just amazing. You have a true gift! Weaving together the memories of old (amo, amas, amat... yes, how I so recall learning Latin!) and the present times... well, it's a tour de force!
I know a writing coach. I also know you're broke. But I'm gonna send her an email and ask her to check out your blog. And mayhap you could really polish what you've got, in addition to continuing to let the creative juices flow.... and who knows where this might go?
I look forward to the next installment. :)
February 1, 2009 11:23 AM | Reply | Permalink
I agree it's getting better and better.
Thanks for the quiet and funny place Mr. Day.
You rawk.
February 1, 2009 11:29 AM | Reply | Permalink
Oh Sweetheart. I actually have some tears this morning. I feel good. Thank you!!!!
Have a pretty Sunday. It is 25 here with a 30 MPH wind but that is sure different than 30 below. And cable says it is nice over there in one of our thirteen's best.
February 1, 2009 11:43 AM | Reply | Permalink
A balmy 37 degrees, I hope that it will melt some of the ice. It's hard to get anywhere due to great drifts of great dirty grey ice.
=D
I am very impressed at how quickly you have hit your stride here, truly. I'm certainly looking forward to further installments. You go, DD!
February 1, 2009 11:49 AM | Reply | Permalink
Geez TheraP, you got one thing right. I always await your approval. And you and my friends really make this fun. Just between you and me we shall see a Sir Quinn.
February 1, 2009 11:28 AM | Reply | Permalink
Ok, I'll keep that under my hat. :)
Go over here buddy and take a look at what I said and what followed:
http://tpmcafe.talkingpointsmemo.com/talk/blogs/yikes/2009/01/what-to-do.php#comment-3359818
Let me know what you think. (thanks)
February 1, 2009 11:31 AM | Reply | Permalink
I read your response and Quinn's response earlier.
I want to think about this and formulate my own response. It is just that between you and Quinn, geez, when I first started attempting to blog on nine or ten sites, I was happy to get some response, any response.
Then I came here. I posted two essays and nobody read it. But I decided I would keep trying. Then you and I think Stilli and Quinn responded along with five others and I felt like I had just made the editorial page of the NYT. Then I ended up with 30 comments on the next one and three or so said they really liked WHAT I WROTE. That was it.
You can post in Salon or Politico, or Politics and you are lucky to get one comment. You need to work with their underground email channels first.
I have had Flower comment that she wanted something excised and I reread it and pulled it and changed it. I saw what she was talking about.
I felt so good later after the edit.
Meanie told me once my blog was the worst thing he ever read. and I pulled it and re did it.
Miguel hit me once in early morning and said something to the effect that I could do better.
But to come to a new place and call people names when you have not reviewed previous blogs and comments is beyond me.
I have to think about what I could add but you and Quinn took totally different approaches and got nowhere.
On the other hand, some griping really does not bother me. I just ignore it. But this is different than Renaye or spric.
That is all I got right now.
February 1, 2009 11:56 AM | Reply | Permalink
Thanks, dd. I have to say that what happened here yesterday, in addition to what had been happening (and I've mostly stayed out of it altogether but just watched from the sidelines and skipped over stuff) literally kept me awake in the middle of the night. This place has got to be a safe place. It's not a free-for-all. And many of us are plugging away, trying to understand things and kick the ball down the road together.
I appreciate your comments. And I look forward to your further reflections.
Peace.
February 1, 2009 12:08 PM | Reply | Permalink
Hey DD & Thera. I agree that it's a great site, because you actually CAN get in, can write short or long or not at all, and get some kinda response. I've only been here 8 months Dick, but I've noticed that both the mood & the numbers of people really swings as the political scene ebbs & flows. I suspect what we've been seeing here since November is a relatively quiet period, with so many needing to recharge after the Primaries & the Election. I'm not sure it'll be as "safe" in the future Thera, but I think it'll be just fine if/when lots of people churn through. I think this time we've had - and some of the ideas/moods developed - have been really useful, and to have a wider set of people here might even help them to spread faster in the outside world.
That said, no, Yikes is not Renaye. It took me an hour or so to pin that down, reverse course, and I've since apologized to Y. I think, one by one, people are shifting back to where they'll just treat him on his own merits. Renaye though, is another story. The guns stuff bugged me.
Maybe we should insist that everyone at TPM disarm, and only use medieval violence metaphors when insulting each other. Lances, swords, crossbows, staffs. I think I'm a staff kinda guy. Let's me inflict a good solid clonk on the opponent.
Clonk! Take that Dick! ;-) See? Totally satisfying.
February 1, 2009 12:57 PM | Reply | Permalink
Thanks for your comment, quinn. As far as safety, the worst in some was was the primary. And especially the early part of it. It's true that there has been less traffic since the election. But the last couple of weeks, maybe due to the new administration, led to much more conflict that I had anticipated.
To me, you are one of the most creative people posting here. Many times you're way over my head. But I try to follow along as best I can.
I agree Yikes is not renaye. But still, I've got my bullet proof vest on for the time being. :) (and that relates to what I saw happening on a few threads... both as a bystander and, at yours, as a target - for no reason, it seemed to me)
Peace to you both, and I'm off to do my volunteer activity - which should make for a peaceful afternoon.
February 1, 2009 1:17 PM | Reply | Permalink
Amo, amas amat,
We must deal with what we gots
Thank God he got it in the ass
And not the Royal nuts.
This is the problem Dick. Like you, I think I've become unstuck in time. Which makes me laugh at the thrown in Republican, Nixon & sketch artist jokes. What're they called? Anachronisms? Anyway. "And do not think I am unawares of your toe action." Love that one. I mean... haven't we all been hauled up before an Abess at some point, and done a similar hurried calculation? Or was that abyss? Do not stare too long into the Abess... Whatever it is, if the count reaches 10, you know you're on the bright side of the street.
Must admit. Just the thought of the song of the HH's.... beautiful. Made me weep. Lovely creatures. 5 octave range. Ululating. But that's only on Sundays. The rest of the week, they'd fucking rake your eyes out as soon as look at you. My kinda guys.
(Oh yeah. Are all these events going to collide at some point? You know, a jousting tournament... and the nuns arrive incognito... hedgehogs high on PCP... Lancy Pantsy... the two stupid brothers have to joust against one another... King realizing he's gay... Dobbs used as horse crash dummy....?)
Onward! Today.... is a great day to die! (The Sioux apparently said that before battle. Does anyone still say it down in Minn?)
February 1, 2009 11:53 AM | Reply | Permalink
Oh yes Q. But remember the Ojibwa kind of took over here and although we have some Sioux, I think you find more in the Dakotas.
At any rate, I really enjoy the Anachronistic Nature. And I always liked the stage manager who interrupts the stage action and comments.
It was Fractured Fairy Tales that were my favorite and I admit openly that is where I have been heading with this. Monty Fython (and scores of others) must have seen FFT on Rocky. Ogres who are kind of nice and heroes who are idiots. Fair Maidens that you would not wish to spend more than half an hour with.
I really enjoy reading your comments because I can tell you are following this and obviously you enjoy Larry, Moe and Curly but also the Marx Brothers.
Oh, by the way, with your comment and TheraP with this Yikes guy. He evidently does not wish to heed either and I do not think he is Spric or Renaye.
February 1, 2009 12:21 PM | Reply | Permalink
I always adored FFT. And those clips of Bullwinkle trying to pull a rabbit out of his hat. But FFT is EXACTLY the right idea. The thing I find is, not to be afraid to be completely demented. Not everyone will follow, but when they get it - they laugh like hell. Des is very very good at it, especially in his comments.
One of the major gifts I bought this Christmas was a compilation of the Marx Brothers movies. My nephews grew up on this stuff, and at age 3 could be seen hurtling around their house, playing the Brothers. Awesome.
February 1, 2009 12:47 PM | Reply | Permalink
If we're talking Rocky and Bullwinkle I have to tell you about the first time my ex, a former member of the communist party of the Soviet Union saw Boris and Natasha. Her name is actually Natasha (Americanized as Natalie), her grandfather's name was Boris. She thought it was hilarious. She liked the Simpsons too but unfortunately seemed to think they were a typical American family and took to treating me like Homer.
February 2, 2009 8:08 AM | Reply | Permalink
Literally sleeping with the enemy. Mark, did you pick up important state secrets?
February 2, 2009 9:46 AM | Reply | Permalink
Nah, though I did hear some interesting stories and meet some interesting immigrants.
February 2, 2009 5:02 PM | Reply | Permalink
Good afternoon,dd...and migwetch (thanks) for the newest chapter! I read it while I ate lunch.
Just a short while back we had a small discussion about Fractured Fairy Tales when a blogger (I forget who :( Sorry.) wrote about the death of Jay Ward. Your tale does indeed tread in the same water and is probably why I am loving it.
Quinn is right in not being afraid to be demented. Write for yourself first, enjoy it, then set it free. It will come back to you blessed or cursed....and that, my new friend, is what the edit buttons are for. ;o)
And, it's true! It is a good day to die!
*Sigh* The Sioux get all the good lines.
February 1, 2009 2:39 PM | Reply | Permalink
Thank you so much for your support Flower.
And don't call me Sue.
:-)
February 1, 2009 3:49 PM | Reply | Permalink
Shirley?
February 1, 2009 6:37 PM | Reply | Permalink
I am glad to see that some lances danced...now, if you could only work in three witches around a cauldron...stirring up that magical potion, vyyaagrahhh (middle english spelling) for the old King or Father Rather...I am waiting for the annual battle of the Sooper Boul...may the best commercial win!
February 1, 2009 2:56 PM | Reply | Permalink
Thank you Warped. I need people with a little warped sense of humor here!!!
February 1, 2009 3:51 PM | Reply | Permalink
Evening Dick! This was perhaps my favorite chapter wot with the hedgehogs back, (and in a friendly mood to boot!), Arthur poised seize control of fiscal policy, and all those immaculate conceptions. Hopefully he'll get more toe action next chapter. Those Welsh do speak funny. I visited some relatives there about 12 years ago. It was like being surrounded by elves when they were all speaking Welsh. It's such a musical language. In the spirit of Wales and the badgers I offer you this. Fractured Fairy Tales. How brilliant was that? Between those stories, Peabody & Sherman, and Tutor & Mr. Wizard we had some fine wordsmiths crafting twisted stories for our fertile pre-pubescent minds. You're living testimony to the fact that cartoons are not only not detrimental to a child's development, but in fact enhance it.
February 2, 2009 1:03 AM | Reply | Permalink
Thank you much Miguel. But how do the Welsh fair in Mexico?
February 2, 2009 2:01 AM | Reply | Permalink
Good question Dick. The Welsh fairs, (in Wales), they call Eisteddfod . In Mexico the Welsh Fairs are called Carnivales Gales. So I guess you could say the Welsh fare better in Mejico than they do in Wales. ;)
February 2, 2009 2:42 AM | Reply | Permalink
Hope that answers your question.
February 2, 2009 1:19 PM | Reply | Permalink