Author Archives: swany

Diet of Worms

This new Christian diet is all the rage, the Diet of Worms. The infidels tend to choke on it, as was its design. The doctors of divinity prescribe a bracing tonic of extreme devotion to those in remission. Many long-standing disputes have finally been settled, to the best of our knowledge.

Tone deaf

I was tone deaf all my life, up until one day, it was in the fall, I fell out of my crow’s nest and awoke with perfect pitch. There are no other cases in the annals of the supreme being or in their executive summaries.

In the beginning I could make nor head nor tail of it, but when the nor’westers came to blow, and the trees began to sing, I heard that Forty Mile Creek was in the same key as the Magic Flute. Down at the switching yard, the locomotives were idyling in C, but not a well-tempered C. Though the vibrations are arbitrary, the harmonics are pythagorean. On that note, abstain from beans.

Inquisition

Raise the glass to the glory  days of the inquisition, when god gave us men a ticket to torture. Sanctity ruled the land, if you get my drift.

In those days we weasels of rightousness could get our jollies by ferreting out the sins of the bwitches. The devil lurked in every crack, but the hammer was underwritten by the pope. As the accounts of agonies attest, the hammer came down hard.

So with your one good eye and half bushel of brains, raise the glass and praise the inquisition.

I’m talking to the President

Mister President, we have four more prisoners of war.
Bring ‘em on.
Crick is a prisoner of the war on drugs.
Hang by the neck.
Warsh is a prisoner of the war on poverty.
Life sentence, three generations.
Shem is a prisoner of the war on terror.
Molotov cocktail.
Shimmy is a prisoner of the cold war.
Burn at the stake.
Thank you Mister President, and God bless.

borborygmus

a rumbling or gurgling sound caused by the movement of gas in the intestines.

“The stertorous borborygmus of the dyspeptic Carlyle!” declaimed Willie Weaver, and beamed through his spectacles. 
–Aldous Huxley, Point Counter Point, 1928

Strike when the iron is hot

laruns
He walked the plank in the splendour of his blackbody radiation. Tempis fugit took a quantum leak in Puget sound. When he moved, he moved like a bachelor of kinesiology. If he talked, he sounded like a master in political science. After he farted, he smelled like a doctor of divinity. And all that that entails.