Trousered Ape
An exercise in presumption.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
[The idea for the following came to me a long time ago, and gradually took form until finally the Muse hit me upside the head and told me to stop lollygagging and write it down.]


Armageddon was over, and a great peace filled Creation.  Most of the Heavenly host had departed, but many still remained, cleaning up the battlefield.  There were, of course, no bodies - all the combatants being angelic spirits or immortal souls - but there were great mounds of armor and weapons, broken or dropped in flight, and uncounted myriads of feathers.

Lucifer lay in chains, waiting until the time came to be thrown with his legions into the Pit.  He called out continually, until finally the Archangel Michael came and asked what he wanted.

"I want to speak with the Marshal of Mankind," said Lucifer.  "I want to ask him a question."

So the Archangel Michael summoned the Marshal of Mankind and brought him to Lucifer.  "What do you want to know?" asked the Marshal.

"How did you do it?" asked Lucifer.

"How did I do what?"

"Not you - the Army of Mankind.  How did you do it?"

"I'm sorry," said the Marshal, "but you'll have to explain."

"Look," said Lucifer.  "Before the battle, I was certain that your army would be of no account.  In all my dealings with Mankind, you have proved pathetically weak.  I never got anywhere, try though I might, with any of the ninety and nine righteous peoples of Creation, but you fell into my hands from the start.  Three times I almost won, forcing Him to adopt the most desperate expedients: the first time, He had to wipe out almost all of you and start over; the second, He had to make Himself manifest and work innumerable miracles in order to free His Chosen People from the sentence of slavery and death which I had imposed upon them; and finally, He had to sacrifice His own Son.

"Going into this late battle, I had almost as many of you on my side as He did on His - and they were useless.  Half of them were shirkers and skulkers, and the other half turned and fled at the sound of the opening trumpet.

"And when we arrayed our forces for battle, there you were, far out on one flank.  I had expected as much - even He had the wit to keep you well away from the real fighting.

"But what happened? As soon as battle was joined, you smashed through the legion facing you, turned and flanked the next, and began rolling up my right wing.  You forced me to commit my reserves early, and you broke them as well.  You fought your way to the very center and there you met the ninety and nine righteous peoples, who combined got there no faster than you did alone.

"How did you do it?  What secret weapon did He give you?"

"I'll tell you," said the Marshal, "but you won't believe me."

"Try me," said Lucifer.

"Very well.  Yes, we had something which the ninety and nine didn't have, nor did any other army in His host.  But we didn't get it from Him.  We got it from you."

"Impossible.  I inspected my armory myself before the battle.  Nothing was missing."

"We didn't steal it from you.  You gave it to us freely; in fact you insisted on doing so, and would not take 'No' for an answer."


"The ninety and nine could not have been better prepared for the battle than they were.  They had studied, they had trained, they had drilled - they were flawless.  But they had never been in battle: they had no idea of what it really is, and it took time for them to come to grips with it.

"But Mankind had been in constant battle with you from the beginning.  In the course of time you struck at us with every weapon in your arsenal.  You used every ruse, every tactic, every maneuver you could imagine.  And so we were forced to learn how to counter each of them.  By the time the trumpet sounded, there was not a stratagem you could try which we could not anticipate and foil before it started.  Moloch, Mammon, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles - they were old acquaintances.

"Thanks to you, we were veterans before this battle started.  Armageddon was just another day's work for us."

After the Marshal had finished, Lucifer lay still, buried in thought, for a long time.  Finally he said, more to himself than to the Marshal,

"What a mistake I made.  I should have scouted that flank more carefully.  It's clear enough to me now what He did: He disguised His best soldiers as you, and hit me where I was wasn't expecting them.  A clever trick, but an ignoble one…I would not have thought it of Him…"

The Marshal gazed sadly at Lucifer but said nothing.

After a while, Lucifer spoke again, "And now He's stuck!  He's so concerned with His reputation, He can't ever let it out that He stooped to a trick!  So to cover it up, He has to let you take the credit…Oh, I can hear already the boasting and bragging you'll do!  And the ninety and nine - will they put up with that?  They fought bravely and well, and they see poltroons and skulkers making off with their glory?  No, they will boil over with jealousy and injured pride…There will be war in Heaven again!" His eyes blazed. " And one side or the other will be wanting allies…and they'll have to turn to me...oh, yes, I'll come back, I'll have learned from my mistakes, and I'll win!  I'll win!!"

"I told you that you wouldn't believe me," said the Marshal of Mankind.

And he went away.
Thursday, February 13, 2014

Yes, I'm still alive.

Hat tip to lines and colors (for the painting).

Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Merry Christmas!
Thursday, October 24, 2013
It speaks for itself:

(Original here)

Hat tip to Dark Roasted Blend.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Regarding one of the current kerfuffles, a slightly edited version of a comment I had made:

All the talk about health insurance - all of it - is a distraction from the basic issue, which is what can be done to help those who are genuinely too poor to afford needed medical treatment. This is a problem best addressed outside the box of health insurance, especially the distorted and perverted system which we have today.

Forcing the rich to subsidize the non-rich for any reason is always wrong and imprudent. For starters, it takes the virtue out of charity. If Tom sees his poor neighbor Dick in need and helps him out, then all's right with the world: Tom makes the sacrifice of his own free will and deserves merit in Heaven and Dick's gratitude on Earth. But if Harry decides that Tom isn't doing enough and holds a gun to Tom's head to make him help Dick, then Tom deserves nothing because he didn't give voluntarily, but neither does Harry, because he sacrificed nothing. Dick's gratitude will be misdirected to Harry instead of to Tom, even though Tom made the sacrifice. Furthermore, Tom's dignity suffers because his autonomy is infringed upon, and because he is merely being treated as a means to an end. Finally, there is no guarantee that Harry knows better than Tom what to do, especially since Tom is probably closer to Dick than Harry is.

And then, inevitably, fallen human nature enters the picture. Tom, perpetually browbeaten by Harry and ignored by Dick, will grow to detest them both, and in fact the very concept of charity.

Harry, realizing that the more he browbeats Tom, the more he will gain the applause of the world, will continually increase his exactions. Looking in his mirror and seeing what a fine fellow he is, he will think he deserves some recompense for the time and effort he's putting in - after all, guns are expensive - and will start skimming to get a better car (because it would be terrible if the help didn't get there in time!), and a secretary to make sure he doesn't lose track of all the money, and a new overcoat lest he catch a cold and have to spend a week in bed instead of being out there helping Dick, and so on.

Dick, finding that all he needs to get through life is to go to Harry every so often and ask for more, will grow to think that he's entitled to all he can get. He will see any complaint by Tom as the start of a move to take away what is rightfully his. He will be encouraged in this by Harry, who will loudly and publicly accuse Tom of callous greed and selfishness.

And the members of Harry's fan club, who don't do anything but sit in the bleachers cheering Harry and booing Tom, will congratulate each other on their public-spiritedness and virtue because, after all, they're on Harry's side.

You want to help the poor get medical care? Become a doctor and open a clinic. If your talents don't lie that way, find a doctor who's running a clinic and help him, even if it's nothing more than sending him a little bit - out of your own pocket - every month to help cover expenses. Help pay the tuition of a medical student so the doctor can have an apprentice who may someday open another clinic.

Do what you can do and don't worry about what your neighbor may or may not be doing; he may be doing a lot and just not talking about it; and anyway, it's not your business.

It's not the Federal government's business either.
Friday, September 06, 2013

It's come to this...
Sunday, August 04, 2013
Surfacing just long enough to pass along a question asked by commenter "Michael D" at Midwest Conservative Journal which epigrammatically illustrates the Zeitgeist:

Why should abortion rights apply only to people who are pregnant?
Monday, June 10, 2013
Still alive. Still very busy at work. Still very gloomy about the state of the world, especially my country. Muse still on vacation - don't know where, haven't even gotten a postcard.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Brandon at Siris briefly reviews the movies  Les Miserables and Atlas Shrugged Part II, and concludes that "what we really need is an Atlas Shrugged film musical."

Maybe someday...
Friday, April 26, 2013
Today is the ninth anniversary of Trousered Ape, and my 57th birthday.

Sorry I haven't been posting lately: my job has been unusually fatiguing, and the Muse has departed for an extended vacation; given the current uncertain and depressing state of the nation and the world, I don't blame her.

Update: Anthony Esolen puts it more eloquently than I could.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
God, bless Your servant Francis; keep him safe and well; give him the grace and virtue he needs to feed Your sheep; and protect him from his enemies and confound and scatter them.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Just performed another long-overdue update to my sidebar.  I decided to drop the Latinity, since in fact my Latin is not good enough for such pretension.

I don't know why the archive list changed.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Just because (a) we're losing a great Pope and (b) the current times have a whiff about them of Rome of the 2nd century B.C., or perhaps the Weimar Republic, it doesn't mean we can't engage in a little buffoonery:

The Ballad of Donovan's Brain

I've got Mister Donovan's brain, ha ha!
I've got Mister Donovan's brain:
It will keep nicely, stored
In this potion I've poured;
And I don't care a rap for the Medical Board.
I will study, record, puzzle out and explain
All the workings of Donovan's brain, oh yes -
Of Donovan's singular brain.

        I feel rather odd in my brain, I do -
        I feel rather odd in my brain:
        I'm not sure where I'm at,
        But it seems like a vat,
        And I sense there's a doctor who's wanting to chat,
        And I'm pretty sure that he will take every pain
        To be very good friends with my brain, indeed -
        He'll get very close to my brain.

What is it with Donovan's Brain, I ask -
What is it with Donovan's Brain?
I fear that he'll stifle
My ego; my life will
Be his to control to the tiniest trifle;
My poor little wife will think I've gone insane,
When I'm under the sway of his brain, oh dear -
Of Donovan's masterful brain.

        It's great to be Donovan's Brain, it is -
        It's great to be Donovan's Brain!
        The good Doctor and me
        Will go out on a spree
        (Though I'll have to enjoy it vicariously),
        And I think you'll agree that it's perfectly plain
        That it's grand to be Donovan's Brain, hurrah!
        To be Donovan's wonderful Brain!

Oh, how I hate Donovan's Brain, I cry -
That horrible Donovan's Brain!
I must bow to his will,
I must march to his drill,
Now this kooky experiment's lost all its thrill -
So I'll battle until I am free from the rein
Of tyrannical Donovan's Brain - en garde!
I challenge you, Donovan's Brain!

        The Doctor's resisting my brain, he is -
        The Doctor's at war with my brain.
        If he's after a fight,
        He will find that despite
        All his efforts, he's bound to my cerebral might.
        For his pitiful plight I have only disdain,
        He can't stand up to Donovan's Brain, oh no -
        He's no match for Donovan's Brain!

To Hell with you, Donovan's Brain! It's down
To Hell with you, Donovan's Brain!
I've unraveled your tricks
And got out of my fix,
And to all of your boasting and threats I say nix!
Your special elixir has gone down the drain,
So it's farewell to Donovan's Brain, it is -
It's farewell to Donovan's Brain!

        It's the finish for Donovan's Brain, alas,
        The finish of Donovan's Brain.
        It's a terrible toss,
        But the Doc is the boss -
        Success brings you brickbats as well as applause -
        And I guess that my loss is humanity's gain,
        So it's farewell from Donovan's Brain, it is -
        It's farewell from Donovan's Brain.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Some things are the same as they were 240 years ago...
Saturday, February 16, 2013
I have pretty much retired from satire, save for a limerick here and there in a comment thread, but others have not; please see:

Red Cardigan's excellent parody at And Sometimes Tea,


A hilarious sendup of clueless reporting by Devin Rose at St. Joseph's Vanguard.
Monday, February 11, 2013
So, Pope Benedict is abdicating.

1. Pray.
2. Trust the Holy Spirit.
3. And relax.
Saturday, February 02, 2013
Mrs. Darwin has posted another 100 book meme. I have at some point in my life read 39 of them; I could probably pass a pop quiz on 21.

The ones I could pass a quiz on:

A Tale of Two Cities
Alice in Wonderland
And Then There Were None
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Green Eggs and Ham
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Little House on the Prairie
Pride and Prejudice
Romeo and Juliet
Sense and Sensibility
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
The Fellowship of the Ring
The Hobbit
The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
The Odyssey
The Picture of Dorian Grey

The others I have read:

A Wrinkle in Time
Anne of Green Gables
Brave New World
Crime and Punishment
Fahrenheit 451
Jane Eyre
Lord of the Flies
Of Mice and Men
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
The Brothers Karamazov
The Catcher in the Rye
The Count of Monte Cristo
The Good Earth
The Great Gatsby
The Little Prince
The Princess Bride
The Stranger

The remainder, which I have not read, and probably never will:

A Game of Thrones
A Prayer for Owen Meany
American Gods
Anna Karenina
East of Eden
Ender's Game
Fight Club
Gone With The Wind
Interpreter of Maladies
Interview with the Vampire
Invisible Man
Les Miserables
Life of Pi
Like Water for Chocolate
Little Women
Lonesome Dove
Memoirs of a Geisha
My Sister's Keeper
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Slaughterhouse Five
The Bell Jar
The Book Thief
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
The Color Purple
The DaVinci Code
The Fountainhead
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
The Giver
The Golden Compass
The Handmaid's Tale
The Help
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
The House of the Spirits
The Hunger Games
The Joy Luck Club
The Kite Runner
The Master and Margarita
The Notebook
The Pillars of the Earth
The Poisonwood Bible
The Road
The Secret Garden
The Stand
The Sun Also Rises
The Time Traveler's Wife
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
Their Eyes Were Watching God
To Kill a Mockingbird
Water for Elephants
Where the Sidewalk Ends
Wuthering Heights

[Edited to add The Fellowship of the Ring, inadvertently omitted from the initial posting of the list.]
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Longfellow, as promised, after which I retire - this is becoming dangerously addictive.

"You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,
How the handsome Yenadizze
Danced at Hiawatha's wedding."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "Song of Hiawatha", canto XI

This was after they had practiced
Ancient rituals, established
In the age of myth and legend,
Long before their fathers' fathers
Brought the tribe to Gitche Gumee;
Long before the tribe had settled
On the shores of Gitche Gumee
By the shining Big-Sea-Water.

First the best man rose and chanted
Words of glad congratulation
To the smiling Hiawatha
And the blushing Laughing Water.
Then the whole assembly gathered.
Raised as one their glasses, brimming
With the merry wine a-sparkle,
And in honor of the couple
Drained them to the very bottom.

Then the lovely Laughing Water,
Taking up her bridal nosegay,
Made of hollyhocks and daisies,
Violets and black-eyed Susans,
Tossed it to the waiting maidens.
Bright-eyed virgins, eager, jostling,
Vied to catch the flying nosegay.

Then arose a raucous cheering,
As the noble Hiawatha
Knelt and raised the lower portion
Of fair Laughing Water's garment
And removed the silken garter,
Stood and threw it to his groomsmen.
One leapt out before the others,
Seized the ornament in triumph,
And the shapely thigh encircled
Of the maiden with the nosegay.

Then the wedding cake in glory,
Borne upon the brawny shoulders
Of a dozen mighty warriors,
Set before the whole assembly,
Caused the wedding guests to marvel,
Caused the waiting mouths to water.
Seven layers tall it stood there
Cased in shining spotless frosting
Whiter still than any swansdown;
And each layer was encrusted
With rococo decoration:
Seashells, scrollwork, swags and flowers,
In more colors than the rainbow -
An astonishing confection!

Stepping forth, the major-domo
Sliced the cake, as was his duty,
With his knife of shining copper,
Handle wrought of polished elkhorn,
Brought to noble Hiawatha
And to lovely Laughing Water,
Each a portion; then the couple
Followed the time-honored fashion,
Showed their mutual affection,
Mashed it in each other's faces.

Now at last the shaman summoned
Forth the chieftain Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Urged him to begin the dancing,
To arise and lead the dancing,
Dancing by the whole assembly
Of the sacred Hoki-Poki.

Now the handsome Yenadizze,
In accordance with the pattern,
Laid down in the days of legend,
Rose and inward put his right hand,
Put it outward, put it inward,
Shook it all about with vigor,
Raised his hands to point to Heaven,
Flourished them in awful gesture
Of the sacred Hoki-Poki;
Lastly, turning in a circle,
He completed the first figure,
Followed by the whole assembly.

Thus the chieftain Pau-Puk-Keewis
Gravely led them in the dancing
Of the sacred Hoki-Poki.

Now the dance grows ever faster!
Left hand follows hard the right hand,
Left foot follows hard the right foot,
And upon the dancers' raiment,
Eagle feathers, deerskin fringes
Toss about as do the branches
Of the birch trees in the forest
When the east wind blows in autumn.

Now the dance grows ever faster!
Head and backside, each in order,
Each receives its due attention.
Feet in moccasins of buckskin
Strike in unison the dance-floor,
Strike it with a noise like thunder.

And the voice of Pau-Puk-Keewis
Loudly, clearly, sets the measure,
As he leads the sacred dancing.
Ever onward, Pau-Puk-Keewis!
Never tiring, never failing!
As the spirits had commanded
In the misty days of legend,
Long before the tribe had settled
On the shores of Gitche Gumee
By the shining Big-Sea-Water.

Now there comes the final figure!
Now the dancers, spirit-guided,
Lost in rhythmic exaltation,
Fling their bodies with abandon
Inwards, outwards; then they send them
Spinning like the mighty whirlwind!
Thus the dancing is concluded.

Thus they danced the Hoki-Poki,
Danced the sacred Hoki-Poki
On the shores of Gitche Gumee
By the shining Big-Sea-Water
As the spirits had commanded
In the age of myth and legend.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Did you know that reading my blog makes you awesome by association?

It's true!

Longfellow's hokey-pokey is postponed until the golden fog of vanity dissipates.

(P.S., go and vote. (You have to cast a vote in every category, so be prepared to do some research.))
Sunday, January 27, 2013
And now, Omar Khayyam (strictly speaking, the FitzGerald translation; my extremely short list of scholarly accomplishments does not extend to Persian):

Carousing having palled on me, I turned
To abstruse Sciences, whereby I learned
That I should wander far across the Globe
Ere I would find the Peace for which I yearned.

In ancient Kaikobad I chanced to meet
A Wedding party passing down the Street;
They bade me join them, vowing they would show
To me that which would make my Quest complete.

I did this Opportunity embrace,
And in the dancing Circle took my Place,
And let the Spell of Hautboy, Shawm, and Drum
Possess my Body with its rhythmic Grace.

In turn, I inward put and outward took
Each Hand and Foot, which afterwards I shook;
I Hokey-pokeyed, turned about and found
A Wisdom never writ in any Book.

For sudden Revelation, with a Clout
Upside my Head, put Ignorance to Rout;
And Understanding sweetly Pierced my Soul:
Aye, verily, That's what It's all about.
Friday, January 25, 2013
As an Ape, it is my natural lot to imitate my betters; so, I follow Tom at dark speech upon the harp in hokey-pokeying in the style of various poets.

Starting off with Edgar Lee Masters:

Bildad Hoke

From my youth I was a devotee of Terpsichore
And created new dances in Her honor
And danced them in the square.
But the Philistines of Spoon River
Would tell me I was crazy
And go off to Burchard's grog shop.
So I went to Chicago
And studied Dance and Music and Poetry
And created a dance more marvelous than any before
And in pride and vanity named it after myself.
The summer I came home
I went to the wedding of Fletcher and Ollie McGee
And afterwards at the reception
I gave a copy of the score to Fiddler Jack
And a dollar to play it.
The melody started
And I went out on the dance floor.
I stuck my right hand in,
And out, and in,
And I shook it all about,
And I did my marvelous Hoke-y-Pokey and turned myself about -
But Thomas Rhodes was lost in thoughts of gain,
And Frank Drummer was reading Volume IX (Ent-Fra) of the
Encyclopedia Britannica,
And Minerva Jones was scribbling an epithalamion on the back of an envelope,
And Lydia Puckett and Lucius Atherton were eying one another,
And Knowlt Hoheimer was eying them,
And Deacon Taylor was drunk,
And Anne Rutledge had buttonholed A. D. Blood
And was bragging about how Abraham Lincoln had been her boyfriend,
And Enoch Dunlap had gone to the men's room -
And nobody noticed me at all.
I opened my mouth to cry out,
"But that is what it's all about!"
And fell down senseless.

Upcoming: Omar Khayyam and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Many cats have lived with us over the years.  Some have been smarter than average.  And some haven't.

Cat without a clue,
Don't know what to do,
Night and day, your wit's astray -
Cat without a clue.

Tell me why you're sitting there,
Eyes wide open in a vacant stare,
Haven't got an idea anywhere -
Cat without a clue.

Cat without a clue,
Don't know what to do,
Paws tucked under, sit and wonder -
Cat without a clue.

I don't want to be unkind,
But not thinking puts you in a bind,
Did the pixies steal away your mind -
Cat without a clue.

Cat without a clue,
Don't know what to do,
Wash your face, your head's in space -
Cat without a clue.

Come and curl up in my lap,
Doesn't take a brain to take a nap,
You'd look silly in a thinking cap -
Cat without a clue.

Cat without a clue,
Say, how do you do,
Mew and purr, your brain's a blur -
Cat without a clue.

Sunday, January 06, 2013
Rejoinder to ThomasD, the erstwhile dylan, of dark speech upon the harp:

My own autobiographical double-dactyl:

Bob the Ape recklessly
Spiked his Pierian
With some brown acid and
Drank the whole thing.

Since then his verse has been
Furiosissimus -
Take hime to Bedlam and
Make him the king!

And a very silly limerick:

An ambitious young man from Saskatchewan
One day put a pair of eyepatches on -
As he stumbled about,
He gave vent to a shout:
"I'll be famous if ever this catches on!"
Saturday, January 05, 2013
Some literary limericks:

If Dorothy L. Sayers had been really lazy:

Lord Peter and Bunter, while hot
On the trail of a criminal, got
Introduced to Miss Vane,
Who, though sometimes a pain
In the end to the altar was brought.

If Herman Melville had been really lazy:

Ahab's leg got chewed up by a whale,
So with Ishmael on board he set sail.
The voyage took ages,
And hundreds of pages;
At the end, the whale sneered, "Epic fail."

If Dostoevsky had been really really lazy:

Who left poor old Fyodor dead?
Was it Ivan, with brains in his head?
Alyosha the good?
Or Dmitri the hood?
No - 'twas Smerdyakov, base and ill-bred.

If Tolstoy had been really really really lazy:

Prince Andrei was terribly bored,
Natasha was spoiled and froward,
Pierre was a puzzler,
Young Rostov a hustler,
And Bonaparte matched with his horde.

And a poisontea:

He poisoned her milk of magnesia, but
He found it was labor in vain -
The doctor had cured what was wrong with her gut,
And she poured the whole thing down the drain.
Monday, December 31, 2012
"Favorite Christmas Movie – 'Die Hard'"
- LarryD, Acts of the Apocalypse

"It just doesn’t feel like the Christmas season to me until Nakatomi Plaza blows up."
- Commentor Eegahinc, from The B-Movie Catechism.

Deck the halls of Nakatomi -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Quaff the champagne, iced and foamy -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Welcome John McClane, a stranger -
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Peace on Earth, no fear or danger -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Yuletide cheer now meets disaster -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Enter Hans, the criminal master -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Hans turns out to be a mean one -
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Uh-oh, John has a machine gun -
Ho ho ho ho ho, ho ho ho ho.

Battle blazes up from kindling -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Hans's band is quickly dwindling -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Helpless, law and order's forces -
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Root for John's stars in their courses -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Hans has one card left for playing -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
John averts a dreadful slaying -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Night explodes in shock and wonder -
Ticky tock, ticky tock, tick, KA-BOOM!
Pyrotechnics flash and thunder -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

All is over but the mopping -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Wave farewell as Hans is dropping -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Joy returns to hearts affrighted -
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
John and Holly reunited -
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

- me.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Here just long enough to say that for a number of reasons, not all of them discreditable, I am staying off the Internet for a time. Also, prayers for a special intention would be greatly appreciated. God bless you.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
I have to qualify the previous post: Mankind may not be doomed, but Western civilization is.
Monday, June 04, 2012
Mankind is not doomed, not while we have such resourcefulness and ingenuity.

(Hat tip to Tim Blair.
Sunday, June 03, 2012
Took me a minute to get it, but then it was funny:

Sunday, April 29, 2012
An epigram upon an imagined incident:

Today I had to beg my poor wife's pardon:
I took my brand-new mower for a spin,
And found it was a trifle over-powered.

It ran off-course into her blossomy garden,
And wrought much havoc with the blooms therein -
Alas, another virgin Spring deflowered.


Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Please pray for the souls in Purgatory

May the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God rest in peace.

New address bobtheape88...at...gmail...dot...com

  The Ape's Human Bride
    Blogging at Plodding Toward Holiness
  The Authoress
  The Storm Queen

  Those Darn Cats

(permanently under construction)

Acts of the Apostasy
Ad Altare Dei
Adrienne's Catholic Corner
Against the Grain
Aliens in This World
The American Catholic
American Papist
The Anchoress
And Sometimes Tea
Argent by the Tiber
The B-Movie Catechism
Bethune Catholic
The Black Cordelias
Bonfire of the Vanities
The Bovina Bloviator
Called by Name
Canterbury Tales
Catholic Bibliophagist
Catholic and Enjoying It!
Catholic Fire
Catholic Light
Catholic Matriarch
A Catholic Mom climbing the Pillars
A Catholic View
Charlotte was Both
Church of the Masses
The Common Room
Confessions of a Hot Carmel Sundae
The Cranky Professor
Creative Minority Report
The Curt Jester
Danielle Bean
dark speech upon the harp
The Dawn Patrol
Defensor Fidei
Domine, da mihi hanc aquam!
Dyspeptic Mutterings
Eternity Road
Eve Tushnet
An Examined Life
For Keat's Sake
Fructus Ventris
GKC's Favourite
Happy Catholic
Head Noises
The Inn at the End of the World
Insight Scoop
The Jury Box
The Kraalspace
The Lady in the Pew
Laudem Gloriae
Lex Communis
A Momentary Taste of Being
MONIALES OP - Dominican Nuns
My Domestic Church
Oblique House
Open wide the doors to Christ!
Our Word and Welcome to It
Pansy and Peony
A Plumbline in the Wind
Pro Ecclesia Pro Familia Pro Civitate
Reverend Know-it-All
Ricki's Rants and Rambles
Romish Internet Grafitti
Sancta Sanctis
Shredded Cheddar
Standing on My Head
The Troglodyte
V for Victory!
Video meliora, proboque; Deteriora sequor
What Does the Prayer Really Say
Wheat & Weeds
Whispers in the Loggia
The Wine-Dark Sea
Young Fogeys


Gates of Vienna
Midwest Conservative Journal
Tim Blair

Et cetera

About Last Night
Dinosaur Comics
Girl Genius

Links Too Good to Lose

Hey There, Cthulhu
Conan - the Musical
The Gashlycrumb Tinies

Vanity of the Scribbler

Bad Bobby
Thirteenth Night, or, What You Kill
The Danish Astronomer and His Moose - a Drinking Song
Roe v. Wade
If Shakespeare Had an MBA
Strange Religious Xylophones
The Ruler of the Pope's Navee
Oh, Purple Cow - a Sonnet
An Incovenient Tragedy
The King Tut March
Back Yard Haiku
Triolets of Horror
Bishop Trautman and the Translators
The Drunken Ferret Villanelle
The Evil Ternominated
How Do You Solve a Problem Like Godzilla?
Bishop Bo-Peep
Kronos & Kids - A Mythological Sitcom
A Scary Vegetable
St. George? Never Heard of Him
Godzilla - The Musical
Shocking Contraception, or, Ball Lightning
Legion of Faithbots
Occasioned by the Acquittal of Michael Jackson
If Edgar Allan Poe had written “Dick and Jane”

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