Friday, March 17, 2017

Remorse For Intemperate Speech...

Yes, that should be the title of this blog. No, I'm not changing it.

So anyway, this is a picture of last year's post, "the Orange Catholic Bible," in which I managed to simultaneously offend Catholics, Dune-fanatics and atheists. With bonus points for the middle-brow reference which pissed of my less "well-read" friends. Clearly I have a lot to live up to this year.

Unfortunately, I don't really Drink,* so there's a limit to how unintentionally offensive I can be (haven't found it yet, but that's not the point).

I did remember this though. Yeats, being Irish, 'gets it.'

I RANTED to the knave and fool,
But outgrew that school,
Would transform the part,
Fit audience found, but cannot rule
My fanatic heart.
I sought my betters:  though in each
Fine manners, liberal speech,
Turn hatred into sport,
Nothing said or done can reach
My fanatic heart,
Out of Ireland have we come.
Great hatred, little room,
Maimed us at the start.
I carry from my mother's womb
A fanatic heart.
Yeah. I know it's a stretch. (It also shouldn't surprise anyone that this is one of the first poems I learned of my own volition.)


*You have never had a less fun drinking buddy. I take wine by the dram and I'm pretty sure that a hobbit could drink me under the table. I don't even laugh at your drunk-jokes. The only thing I'm worse at is hookah.