Q: Where can I find a regular source (for now) of instructional poetry that preaches edifying sermons based upon scripture, common sense, and in particular, the words found in the day's JUMBLE clues and solutions?
A: Sinners in the hands of an angry Jumble:
(Warning: Jumble spoiler)
"In LIMBO ’til Creation’s ebb
(Where OXIDE takes what insect leaves)
It’s KOSHER to regret the web
Of sin that EGOISM weaves.
"Pursue GOOD LOOKS in this life and be vexed –
Amass instead good graces for the next!"
Thus, on October 26, started a daily series of JUMBLE-based doctrinal verse from regular Comics Curmudgeon commenter (and sometimes guest host) "Uncle Lumpy." With technical help from others, including Yours Truly, he now conceals the solutions to the daily puzzle behind title tags for the benefit of those who wish to solve the scrambled letters.
In a better universe, there would be a single clearing house where these gems would be presented in distilled format. Still, there are worse fates than reading the Curmudgeon, which often has witty comments from a jolly crew of regular posters, including a particularly bright chap *coughcough* who calls himself "Muffaroo."
Ahh, I'll be rehearsing too, for my chorus part in "Carousel" here in Pittsford, NY. I am in the right state. Of the union.
Teresa @6, that's "Copious Free Time" (as seen on page 1), but it's not like I post a lot.
House band? God, that'd be great. Did I mention that my piano is tuned now and has had minor glitches fixed? I feel like I just learned how to play the thing. My intonation is so much better.
My favorite thing in the movie of THE MOUSE THAT ROARED was the sight of Peter Sellers as the Grand Duchess, a dead ringer for the Queen, driving an ancient car through the countryside whilst giving the Royal Wave to every passer-by.
I remember when he was 59 just like it was yesterday.
"Bigger than Sutton Hoo"? Oh, great. Now all the fundamentalist Hoovians are going to burn their records.
(Very much like reading a dictionary, looking up a word that's in the definition you just read, and so on, and so on. Used to work with encyclopedias, too. You kids out there can Google "encyclopedia.")
This fits with what I've been saying for a few years: "Television is a vast wonderland. There is not enough time in a day to watch even just the good stuff."
One reason for that is that the good things on TV come in large increments: just a few chunks will fill up your day -- use tape or a DVR, and the remaining chunks are filled.
The internet, insidiously, comes in blocks of every size, from five seconds to forever, and the odds are good that any given block will tell you where to find at least one similar block.
Whenever bike riding felt slow to me, I'd always try to imagine where I'd be walking, and how fast I'd be going. After that, I was aware that things were going great.
I'm in a place where I can get places on my bike again, and just need to recapture the habit. I've gotten back to walking my mile (about 1.25 miles now) most days, so it could happen.
I also am dancing more -- I got into the chorus of a local production of Carousel. Lots of dancing at rehearsals, while we drum those moves into ourselves.
Arthur: (Pulls pin) One... one... two... five!
Galahad: Three, sir!
Arthur: ...three.
In fifth grade, I became the object of a couple of bullies who rode my bus. Twice a day they went after me. The dominant one of the pair was a boy I'll call "Belly Beer" for purposes of the story.
Finally, the other fifth grade teacher (she was their teacher - I was swapped for them at the beginning of the year so that she could work on them) saw what was happening and had me in for a talk. I told her about the taunting and name calling. She advised me to return the name calling. "Call him Smelly Queer," she said.
I did. He backed off right away, and eventually became a sort of (unreliable but benign) friend. I wish all the advice I'd gotten over the years from authority figures had worked so well. I didn't get a suggestion as useful as that again (that I noticed) until I was in college.
Bruce, my condolences on your friend. I hope you can get a handle on Hilde's glitch. Please give her my regards and regrets on not seeing either of you in so long. Such a long, strange, trip, and now here we all are.
When we lived in Massachusetts, I took particular relish in voting for Senator Kennedy when the opportunity came. It was like having a hand in history.
May he rest easy.
What are they saying in the photo? "Nice little economics column you have there... be a shame if something was to happen to it..."
Enough of this bargain debasement!
It's nice to see them calling the GOP on their latest set of shouting points.
They just need to pink up their diets. They could be giving them different food colors. We could have a rainbow of flamingos -- blue, red, green, orange, violet, yellow, mauve, golden -- but those stick-in-the-mud tree-hugging zoo fascists won't go along with it. Surely, there must be some place we can complain to!
By a great coincidence, before I was aware of this post, I was meditating on all the boxes of stuff in here. Some of it was given for birthday and Christmas presents by people who felt obliged, and just for a moment, I thought perhaps it would be nice after a certain point for people to come over on such occasions and remove an item or two (subject, of course, to my panicked veto).
And oh, how I have wished Mr. Spock could drop by, deftly place some fingers on my forehead, and then tell me with certainty which items -- books, media, you name it -- I would never, ever use or refer to again. After all that was hauled away, he could go in once more and tell me which items would only cause mild regret if they were to vanish from my life forever.
Spock, baby! If you're out there... call me!
ps: The missionaries. As I imagined it, it was wholly inexplicable by any reference to objects on the porch or visible from the front. What those more reverent than I would call 'The grace of God.'
I confess to a prejudice against the ones involving personalities, even when they're slams on people I don't like. They're facile and maybe feel good, but they're not built to last, and they don't mean the same thing to everyone.
When I was on the paper in junior high, there was a sort of recurring column/filler called "Can You Imagine...?" It was hilarious stuff like "...Dave Black with No hair?" "...Ricky Martinez standing up straight?" "...Sheryl Cobb not chewing gum?" (I made two of those up.) The fossil record may not bear me out on this, but I like to think I killed the genre, at least for a while, with one (that they printed) that basically said: "...any article that starts with 'Can You Imagine' being funny?"
So that's where I'm at on this. The one about Michael Jackson's funeral struck me as amusing. Another time on the same paper, I ran up against the deadline and turned in one that said"THE MAD REPEATER STRIKES AGAINThey printed that one too.
"The Mad Repeater strikes again and again and again and again and again and again and..."
| Year | Number of comments posted |
|---|---|
| 2009 | 24 |
| 2008 | 2 |
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