Kill this thread with your post!

Go ahead, just try.
;o)

Die! Die! DIE!!!!!!!!!!!

Fiesty little sucker we have here.

I've got this little story....

How 'bout I go off topic and wander around in the wilderness of disconnected anecdotes for a while? Sound good? Great!

6 > It's only a flesh wound...

Okay, how do we top that, readafew? LOL

How about this,



A supernova! If I go far enough over the top I kill the thread and win right?

btw what do I win? An Ale? A clap on the shoulder? Ostrization ?

8)

Not good enough readafew. Sorry
Here's the real killer.

The next person who posts to this thread picks his (or her) nose in public.

And I eat it, too.

:P

Some of us are not intimidated by the mores of public opinion!

To paraphrase my Sex Ed teacher in high school, "You're either a public nose-picker or a liar."

That was weird! I put the lesser-than and greater-than charcters in there, and all the words disappeared!

11 > THAT was almost a thread killer right there...

This might do the job!

Actually, I was thinking that LibraryThing going down was going to kill it. I've been trying to post for almost an hour now with no luck.

#14 I'm blind now. Thanks.

#15 - I thought it was just my PC. iTunes was updating for about the 37th time this week. :o)

#14 - that picture might not have killed the thread, but it very nearly killed me.

Then I'm on the right path.
;o)

Quick, someone quote a passage from Walden by Thoreau!

It ain't what you lose, but who you lose to that sets the world aflame. Esta1923

Let's see, religion anyone?

All I have to do is agree with you...

And all I need to do is make some kind of clever (in the twisted recesses of my mind) quip...

The Thread is dead! Love live the Thread!

Here's the thread killer:

The way you all here try to dictate what we discuss in threads by your controll-freak 'topics', insisting we stay with them, really angers me.

I might as well live in Stalinist Russia, or even, in Nazi Germany with Hitler in charge.

There was a Nazi Germany without Hitler in charge?

;)

Oh, PeaBee, you got Nazis and Hitler in there with just one post! Impressive.

Nazi's and Hitler are easy - it's Stalin and Hitler that's tricker.

#26 - both are mentioned because, I promise you, some significant portion of American youth don't know those two facts go hand in hand. It's why you have to say "George Washington, our first president"...

George who?

Ha!
See, I did it!
I rule.
;o)

#29

The guy who cut down the cherry tree to make wooden teeth.

#31 - Not the guy who rode his horse at night selling Alarm clocks? Or the guy with the huge signature?

Godwin's law! Godwin's law!

PROLOGUS.

Nec fonte labra prolui caballino,
nec in bicipiti somniasse Parnaso
memini, ut repente sic poeta prodirem.
Heliconidasque pallidamque Pirenen
illis remitto, quorum imagines lambunt 5
hederae sequaces: ipse semipaganus
ad sacra vatum carmen adfero nostrum.
quis expedivit psittaco suum chaere
picamque docuit nostra verba conari?
magister artis ingenique largitor 10
venter, negatas artifex sequi voces;
quod si dolosi spes refulserit nummi,
corvos poetas et poetridas picas
cantare credas Pegaseium nectar.

SATURA I.

O curas hominum! o quantum est in rebus inane!
'Quis leget haec?' Min tu istud ais? nemo hercule! 'Nemo?'
Vel duo, vel nemo. 'Turpe et miserabile!' Quare?
ne mihi Polydamas et Troiades Labeonem
praetulerint? nugae. non, si quid turbida Roma 5
elevet, accedas examenque inprobum in illa
castiges trutina, nec te quaesiveris extra.
nam Romae quis non--? a, si fas dicere-- sed fas
tum, cum ad canitiem et nostrum istud vivere triste
aspexi ac nucibus facimus quaecumque relictis, 10
cum sapimus patruos; tunc, tunc, ignoscite-- 'Nolo.'
Quid faciam? sed sum petulanti splene cachinno.
Scribimus inclusi, numeros ille, his pede liber,
grande aliquid, quod pulmo animae praelargus anhelet.
scilicet haec populo pexusque togaque recenti 15
et natalicia tandem cum sardonyche albus
sede leges celsa, liquido cum plasmate guttur
mobile collueris, patranti fractus ocello.
hic neque more probo videas nec voce serena
ingentis trepidare Titos, cum carmina lumbum 20
intrant, et tremulo scalpuntur ubi intima versu.
tun, vetule, auriculis alienis colligis escas?
auriculis, quibus et dicas cute perditus _ohe_.
'Quo didicisse, nisi hoc fermentum et quae semel intus
innata est rupto iecore exierit caprificus?' 25
En pallor seniumque! o mores! usque adeone
scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter?
'At pulchrum est digito monstrari et dicier _hic est!_
ten cirratorum centum dictata fuisse
pro nihilo pendas?' Ecce inter pocula quaerunt 30
Romulidae saturi, quid dia poemata narrent.
hic aliquis, cui circa umeros hyacinthia laena est,
rancidulum quiddam balba de nare locutus,
Phyllidas Hypsipylas, vatum et plorabile si quid,
eliquat ac tenero supplantat verba palato. 35
adsensere viri: nunc non cinis ille poetae
felix? non levior cippus nunc inprimit ossa?
laudant convivae: nunc non e manibus illis,
nunc non e tumulo fortunataque favilla
nascentur violae? 'Rides' ait 'et nimis uncis 40
naribus indulges. an erit qui velle recuset
os populi meruisse et cedro digna locutus
linquere nec scombros metuentia carmina nec tus?'
Quisquis es, o, modo quem ex adverso dicere feci,
non ego cum scribo, si forte quid aptius exit, 45
quando haec rara avis est, si quid tamen aptius exit,
laudari metuam, neque enim mihi cornea fibra est;
sed recti finemque extremumque esse recuso
euge tuum et belle. nam belle hoc excute totum:
quid non intus habet? non hic est Ilias Atti 50
ebria veratro? non si qua elegidia crudi
dictarunt proceres? non quidquid denique lectis
scribitur in citreis? calidum seis ponere sumen,
scis comitem horridulum trita donare lacerna,
et 'verum' inquis 'amo: verum mihi dicite de me.' 55
qui pote? vis dicam? nugaris, cum tibi, calve,
pinguis aqualiculus protenso sesquipede exstet.
o Iane, a tergo quem nulla ciconia pinsit,
nec manus auriculas imitari mobilis albas,
nec linguae, quantum, sitiat canis Apula, tantae! 60
vos, o patricius sanguis, quos vivere fas est
occipiti caeco, posticae occurrite sannae!
Quis populi sermo est? quis enim, nisi carmina molli
nunc demum numero fluere, ut per leve severos
effundat iunctura unguis? scit tendere versum 65
non secus ac si oculo rubricam derigat uno.
sive opus in mores, in luxum, in prandia regum
dicere, res grandis nostro dat Musa poetae.
ecce modo heroas sensus adferre videmus
nugari solitos graece, nec ponere lucum 70
artifices nec rus saturum laudare, ubi corbes
et focus et porci et fumosa Palilia faeno,
unde Remus, sulcoque terens dentalia, Quinti,
cum trepida ante boves dictatorem induit uxor
et tua aratra domum lictor tulit-- euge poeta! 75
est nunc Brisaei quem venosus liber Acci,
sunt quos Pacuviusque et verrucosa moretur
Antiopa, aerumnis cor luctificabile fulta.
hos pueris monitus patres infundere lippos
cum videas, quaerisne, unde haec sartago loquendi 80
venerit in linguas, unde istuc dedecus, in quo
trossulus exsultat tibi per subsellia levis?
nilne pudet capiti non posse pericula cano
pellere, quin tepidum hoc optes audire _decenter_?
'Fur es' ait Pedio. Pedius quid? crimina rasis 85
librat in antithetis: doctas posuisse figuras
laudatur 'bellum hoc!' hoc bellum? an, Romule, ceves?
men moveat? quippe et, cantet si naufragus, assem
protulerim. cantas, cum fracta te in trabe pictum
ex umero portes? verum, nec nocte paratum 90
plorabit, qui me volet incurvasse querela.
'Sed numeris decor est et iunctura addita crudis.
cludere sic versum didicit _Berecyntius Attis_
et _qui caeruleum dirimebat Nerea delphin_
sic _costam longo subduximus Appennino_. 95
_Arma virum_, nonne hoc spumosum et cortice pingui,
ut ramale vetus vegrandi subere coctum?'
'Quidnam igitur tenerum et laxa cervice legendum?
_Torva mimalloneis inplerunt cornua bombis,_
_et raptum vitulo caput ablatura superbo_ 100
_Bassaris et lyncem Maenas flexura corymbis_
_euhion ingeminat, reparabilis adsonat echo?'_
haec fierent, si testiculi vena ulla paterni
viveret in nobis? summa delumbe saliva
hoc natat in labris, et in udo est Maenas et Attis, 105
nec pluteum caedit, nec demorsos sapit unguis.
'Sed quid opus teneras mordaci radere vero
auriculas? vide sis, ne maiorum tibi forte
limina frigescant: sonat hic de nare canina
littera.' Per me equidem sint omnia protinus alba; 110
nil moror. euge! omnes, omnes bene mirae eritis res.
hoc iuvat? 'hic' inquis 'veto quisquam faxit oletum.'
pinge duos anguis: pueri, sacer est locus, extra
meite! discedo. secuit Lucilius urbem,
te Lupe, te Muci, et genuinum fregit in illis; 115
omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico
tangit et admissus circum praecordia ludit,
callidus excusso populum suspendere naso:
men muttire nefas? nec clam, nec cum scrobe? nusquam?
hic tamen infodiam. vidi, vidi ipse, libelle: 120
auriculas asini quis non habet? hoc ego opertum,
hoc ridere meum, tam nil, nulla tibi vendo
Iliade. audaci quicumque adflate Cratino
iratum Eupolidem praegrandi cum sene palles,
aspice et haec, si forte aliquid decoctius audis. 125
inde vaporata lector mihi ferveat aure:
non hic, qui in crepidas Graiorum ludere gestit
sordidus, et lusco qui possit dicere 'lusce,'
sese aliquem credens, Italo quod honore supinus
fregerit heminas Arreti aedilis iniquas; 130
nec qui abaco numeros et secto in pulvere metas
scit risisse vafer, multum gaudere paratus,
si cynico barbam petulans nonaria vellat.
his mane edictum, post prandia Calliroen do.

SATURA II.

Hunc, Macrine, diem numera meliore lapillo
qui tibi labentis apponit candidus annos.
funde merum genio. non tu prece poscis emaci,
quae nisi seductis nequeas committere divis;
at bona pars procerum tacita libabit acerra. 5
haud cuivis promptum est murmurque humilisque susurros
tollere de templis et aperto vivere voto.
'Mens bona, fama, fides' haec clare et ut audiat hospes;
illa sibi introrsum et sub lingua murmurat 'o si
ebulliat patruus, praeclarum funus?' et 'o si 10
sub rastro crepet argenti mihi seria dextro
Hercule! pupillumve utinam, quem proximus heres
inpello, expungam! namque est scabiosus et acri
bile tumet. Nerio iam tertia conditur uxor.'
haec sancte ut poscas, Tiberino in gurgite mergis 15
mane caput bis terque et noctem flumine purgas?
heus age, responde-- minimum est quod scire laboro--
de Iove quid sentis? estne ut praeponere cures
hunc-- 'cuinam?' cuinam? vis Staio? an scilicet haeres?
quis potior index, puerisve quis aptior orbis? 20
hoc igitur, quo tu Iovis aurem inpellere temptas,
dic agedum Staio, 'pro Iuppiter! o bone' clamet
'Iuppiter!' at sese non clamet Iuppiter ipse?
ignovisse putas, quia, cum tonat, ocius ilex
sulpure discutitur sacro quam tuque domusque? 25
an quia non fibris ovium Ergennaque iubente
triste iaces lucis evitandumque bidental,
idcirco stolidam praebet tibi vellere barbam
Iuppiter? aut quidnam est, qua tu mercede deorum
emeris auriculas? pulmone et lactibus unctis? 30
Ecce avia aut metuens divum matertera cunis
exemit puerum frontemque atque uda labella
infami digito et lustralibus ante salivis
expiat, urentis oculos inhibere perita;
tunc manibus quatit et spem macram supplice voto 35
nunc Licini in campos, nunc Crassi mittit in aedis
'hunc optet generum rex et regina! puellae
hunc rapiant! quidquid calcaverit hic, rosa fiat!'
ast ego nutrici non mando vota: negato,
Iuppiter, haec illi, quamvis te albata rogarit. 40
Poscis opem nervis corpusque fidele senectae.
esto age; sed grandes patinae tuccetaque crassa
adnuere his superos vetuere Iovemque morantur.
Rem struere exoptas caeso bove Mercuriumque
arcessis fibra 'da fortunare Penatis, 45
da pecus et gregibus fetum!' quo, pessime, pacto,
tot tibi cum in flammas iunicum omenta liquescant
et tamen hic extis et opimo vincere ferto
intendit 'iam crescit ager, iam crescit ovile,
iam dabitur, iam iam!' donec deceptus et exspes 50
nequiquam fundo suspiret nummus in imo.
Si tibi creterras argenti incusaque pingui
auro dona feram, sudes et pectore laevo
excutiat guttas laetari praetrepidum cor.
hinc illud subiit, auro sacras quod ovato 55
perducis facies; nam fratres inter aenos
somnia pituita qui purgatissima mittunt,
praecipui sunto sitque illis aurea barba.
aurum vasa Numae Saturniaque inpulit aera
Vestalisque urnas et Tuscum fictile mutat. 60
o curvae in terris animae et caelestium inanes!
quid iuvat hoc, templis nostros inmittere mores
et bona dis ex hac scelerata ducere pulpa?
haec sibi corrupto casiam dissolvit olivo,
haec Calabrum coxit vitiato murice vellus, 65
haec bacam conchae rasisse et stringere venas
ferventis massae crudo de pulvere iussit.
peccat et haec, peccat: vitio tamen utitur. at vos
dicite, pontifices, in sancto quid facit aurum?
nempe hoc quod Veneri donatae a virgine pupae. 70
quin damus id superis, de magna quod dare lance
non possit magni Messallae lippa propago:
conpositum ius fasque animo sanctosque recessus
mentis et incoctum generoso pectus honesto.
haec cedo ut admoveam templis et farre litabo. 75

SATURA III.

'Nempe haec adsidue: iam clarum mane fenestras
intrat et angustas extendit lumine rimas:
stertimus indomitum quod despumare Falernum
sufficiat, quinta dum linea tangitur umbra.
en quid agis? siccas insana canicula messis 5
iam dudum coquit et patula pecus omne sub ulmo est.'
unus ait comitum. "Verumne? itane? ocius adsit
huc aliquis! nemon?" turgescit vitrea bilis:
"findor"-- ut Arcadiae pecuaria rudere dicas.
iam liber et positis bicolor membrana capillis 10
inque manus chartae nodosaque venit harundo.
tunc querimur, crassus calamo quod pendeat umor,
nigra quod infusa vanescat sepia lympha;
dilutas querimur geminet quod fistula guttas.
o miser inque dies ultra miser, hucine rerum 15
venimus? at cur non potius teneroque columbo
et similis regum pueris pappare minutum
poscis et iratus mammae lallare recusas?
"An tali studeam calamo?" Cui verba? quid istas
succinis ambages? tibi luditur. effluis amens, 20
contemnere: sonat vitium percussa, maligne
respondet viridi non cocta fidelia limo.
udum et molle lutum es, nunc nunc properandus et acri
fingendus sine fine rota. sed rure paterno
est tibi far modicum, purum et sine labe salinum-- 25
quid metuas?-- cultrixque foci secura patella.
hoc satis? an deceat pulmonem rumpere ventis,
stemmate quod Tusco ramum millesime ducis,
censoremne tuum vel quod trabeate salutas?
ad populum phaleras! ego te intus et in cute novi. 30
non pudet ad morem discincti vivere Nattae?
sed stupet hic vitio et fibris increvit opimum
pingue, caret culpa, nescit quid perdat, et alto
demersus summa rursum non bullit in unda.
magne pater divum, saevos punire tyrannos 35
haud alia ratione velis, cum dira libido
moverit ingenium ferventi tincta veneno:
virtutem videant intabescantque relicta.
anne magis Siculi gemuerunt aera iuvenci,
et magis auratis pendens laquearibus ensis 40
purpureas subter cervices terruit, 'imus,
imus praecipites' quam si sibi dicat et intus
palleat infelix, quod proxima nesciat uxor?
Saepe oculos, memini, tangebam parvus olivo,
grandia si nollem morituri verba Catonis 45
discere, non sano multum laudanda magistro,
quae pater adductis sudans audiret amicis.
iure; etenim id summum, quid dexter senio ferret,
scire erat in voto; damnosa canicula quantum
raderet; angustae collo non fallier orcae; 50
neu quis callidior buxum torquere flagello.
haud tibi inexpertum curvos deprendere mores,
quaeque docet sapiens bracatis inlita Medis
porticus, insomnis quibus et detonsa iuventus
invigilat, siliquis et grandi pasta polenta; 55
et tibi quae Samios diduxit littera ramos
surgentem dextro monstravit limite callem.
stertis adhuc, laxumque caput conpage soluta
oscitat hesternum, dissutis undique malis!
est aliquid quo tendis, et in quod dirigis arcum? 60
an passim sequeris corvos testaque lutoque,
securus quo pes ferat, atque ex tempore vivis?
helleborum frustra, cum iam cutis aegra tumebit,
poscentis videas: venienti occurrite morbo!
et quid opus Cratero magnos promittere montis? 65
discite, o miseri, et causas cognoscite rerum:
quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimur; ordo
quis datus, aut metae qua mollis flexus et unde;
quis modus argento, quid fas optare, quid asper
utile nummus habet; patriae carisque propinquis 70
quantum elargiri deceat; quem te deus esse
iussit, et humana qua parte locatus es in re.
disce, nec invideas, quod multa fidelia putet
in locuplete penu, defensis pinguibus Umbris,
et piper et pernae, Marsi monumenta clientis, 75
menaque quod prima nondum defecerit orca.
Hic aliquis de gente hircosa centurionum
dicat 'Quod sapio satis est mihi. non ego curo
esse quod Arcesilas aerumnosique Solones,
obstipo capite et figentes lumine terram, 80
murmura cum secum et rabiosa silentia rodunt
atque exporrecto trutinantur verba labello,
aegroti veteris meditantes somnia, _gigni_
_de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti._
hoc est, quod palles? cur quis non prandeat, hoc est?' 85
His populus ridet, multumque torosa iuventus
ingeminat tremulos naso crispante cachinnos.
'Inspice; nescio quid trepidat mihi pectus et aegris
faucibus exsuperat gravis alitus; inspice, sodes!'
qui dicit medico, iussus requiescere, postquam 90
tertia conpositas vidit nox currere venas,
de maiore domo modice sitiente lagoena
lenia loturo sibi Surrentina rogabit.
'Heus, bone, tu palles!' "Nihil est." 'Videas tamen istuc,
quidquid id est: surgit tacite tibi lutea pellis.' 95
"At tu deterius palles; ne sis mihi tutor;
iam pridem hunc sepeli: tu restas." 'Perge, tacebo.'
turgidus hic epulis atque albo ventre lavatur,
gutture sulpureas lente exalante mefites;
sed tremor inter vina subit calidumque triental 100
excutit e manibus, dentes crepuere retecti,
uncta cadunt laxis tunc pulmentaria labris.
hinc tuba, candelae, tandemque beatulus alto
conpositus lecto crassisque lutatus amomis
in portam rigidas calces extendit: at illum 105
hesterni capite induto subiere Quirites.
'Tange, miser, venas et pone in pectore dextram.
nil calet hic. summosque pedes attinge manusque.
non frigent.' Visa est si forte pecunia, sive
candida vicini subrisit molle puella, 110
cor tibi rite salit? positum est algente catino
durum holus et populi cribro decussa farina:
temptemus fauces, tenero latet ulcus in ore
putre, quod haud deceat plebeia radere beta.
alges, cum excussit membris timor albus aristas; 115
nunc face supposita fervescit sanguis et ira
scintillant oculi, dicisque facisque, quod ipse
non sani esse hominis non sanus iuret Orestes.

SATURA IV.

'Rem populi tractas?' barbatum haec crede magistrum
dicere, sorbitio tollit quem dira cicutae
'quo fretus? dic hoc, magni pupille Pericli.
scilicet ingenium et rerum prudentia velox
ante pilos venit, dicenda tacendaque calles. 5
ergo ubi commota fervet plebecula bile,
fert animus calidae fecisse silentia turbae
maiestate manus. quid deinde loquere? "Quirites,
hoc puta non iustum est, illud male, rectius illud."
scis etenim iustum gemina suspendere lance 10
ancipitis librae, rectum discernis, ubi inter
curva subit, vel cum fallit pede regula varo,
et potis es nigrum vitio praefigere theta.
quin tu igitur, summa nequiquam pelle decorus,
ante diem blando caudam iactare popello 15
desinis, Anticyras melior sorbere meracas!
quae tibi summa boni est? uncta vixisse patella
semper et adsiduo curata cuticula sole?
exspecta, haud aliud respondeat haec anus. i nunc
"Dinomaches ego sum," suffla "sum candidus." esto; 20
dum ne deterius sapiat pannucia Baucis,
cum bene discincto cantaverit ocima vernae.'
Ut nemo in sese temptat descendere, nemo,
sed praecedenti spectatur mantica tergo!
quaesieris 'Nostin Vettidi praedia?' "Cuius?" 25
'Dives arat Curibus quantum non miluus errat.'
"Hunc ais, hunc dis iratis genioque sinistro,
qui, quandoque iugum pertusa ad compita figit,
seriolae veterem metuens deradere limum
ingemit: _hoc bene sit!_ tunicatum cum sale mordens 30
caepe et farrata pueris plaudentibus olla
pannosam faecem morientis sorbet aceti?"
at si unctus cesses et figas in cute solem,
est prope te ignotus, cubito qui tangat et acre
despuat 'hi mores! penemque arcanaque lumbi 35
runcantem populo marcentis pandere vulvas!
tu cum maxillis balanatum gausape pectas,
inguinibus quare detonsus gurgulio exstat?
quinque palaestritae licet haec plantaria vellant
elixasque nates labefactent forcipe adunca, 40
non tamen ista filix ullo mansuescit aratro.'
caedimus inque vicem praebemus crura sagittis.
vivitur hoc pacto; sic novimus. ilia subter
caecum vulnus habes; sed lato balteus auro
praetegit. ut mavis, da verba et decipe nervos, 45
si potes. 'Egregium cum me vicinia dicat,
non credam?' Viso si palles, inprobe, nummo,
si facis in penem quidquid tibi venit amarum,
si puteal multa cautus vibice flagellas:
nequiquam populo bibulas donaveris aures. 50
respue, quod non es; tollat sua munera cerdo;
tecum habita: noris, quam sit tibi curta supellex.

SATURA V.

Vatibus hic mos est, centum sibi poscere voces,
centum ora et linguas optare in carmina centum,
fabula seu maesto ponatur hianda tragoedo,
vulnera seu Parthi ducentis ab inguine ferrum.
'Quorsum haec? aut quantas robusti carminis offas 5
ingeris, ut par sit centeno gutture niti?
grande locuturi nebulas Helicone legunto,
si quibus aut Prognes, aut si quibus olla Thyestae
fervebit, saepe insulso cenanda Glyconi;
tu neque anhelanti, coquitur dum massa camino, 10
folle premis ventos, nec clauso murmure raucus
nescio quid tecum grave cornicaris inepte,
nec scloppo tumidas intendis rumpere buccas.
verba togae sequeris iunctura callidus acri,
ore teres modico, pallentis radere mores 15
doctus et ingenuo culpam defigere ludo.
hinc trahe quae dicis, mensasque relinque Mycenis
cum capite et pedibus, plebeiaque prandia noris.'
Non equidem hoc studeo, bullatis ut mihi nugis
pagina turgescat, dare pondus idonea fumo. 20
secreti loquimur; tibi nunc hortante Camena
excutienda damus praecordia, quantaque nostrae
pars tua sit, Cornute, animae, tibi, dulcis amice,
ostendisse iuvat: pulsa, dinoscere cautus,
quid solidum crepet et pictae tectoria linguae. 25
his ego centenas ausim deposcere voces,
ut, quantum mihi te sinuoso in pectore fixi,
voce traham pura, totumque hoc verba resignent,
quod latet arcana non enarrabile fibra.
Cum primum pavido custos mihi purpura cessit 30
bullaque succinctis Laribus donata pependit;
cum blandi comites totaque inpune Subura
permisit sparsisse oculos iam candidus umbo;
cumque iter ambiguum est et vitae nescius error
deducit trepidas ramosa in compita mentes, 35
me tibi supposui: teneros tu suscipis annos
Socratico, Cornute, sinu; tum fallere sollers
apposita intortos extendit regula mores,
et premitur ratione animus vincique laborat
artificemque tuo ducit sub pollice vultum. 40
tecum etenim longos memini consumere soles,
et tecum primas epulis decerpere noctes:
unum opus et requiem pariter disponimus ambo,
atque verecunda laxamus seria mensa.
non equidem hoc dubites, amborum foedere certo 45
consentire dies et ab uno sidere duci
nostra vel aequali suspendit tempora Libra
Parca tenax veri, seu nata fidelibus hora
dividit in Geminos concordia fata duorum,
Saturnumque gravem nostro Iove frangimus una: 50
nescio quod, certe est, quod me tibi temperat astrum.
Mille hominum species et rerum discolor usus;
velle suum cuique est, nec voto vivitur uno.
mercibus hic Italis mutat sub sole recenti
rugosum piper et pallentis grana cumini, 55
hic satur inriguo mavult turgescere somno;
hic campo indulget, hunc alea decoquit, ille
in Venerem putris; sed cum lapidosa cheragra
fregerit articulos, veteris ramalia fagi,
tunc crassos transisse dies lucemque palustrem 60
et sibi iam seri vitam ingemuere relictam.
at te nocturnis iuvat inpallescere chartis;
cultor enim iuvenum purgatas inseris aures
fruge Cleanthea. petite hinc puerique senesque
finem animo certum miserisque viatica canis! 65
'Cras hoc fiet.' Idem cras fiet. 'Quid? quasi magnum
nempe diem donas.' Sed cum lux altera venit,
iam cras hesternum consumpsimus: ecce aliud cras
egerit hos annos et semper paulum erit ultra.
nam quamvis prope te, quamvis temone sub uno 70
vertentem sese frustra sectabere cantum,
cum rota posterior curras et in axe secundo.
Libertate opus est, non hac, ut, quisque Velina
Publius emeruit, scabiosum tesserula far
possidet. heu steriles veri, quibus una Quiritem 75
vertigo facit! hic Dama est non tressis agaso,
vappa lippus et in tenui farragine mendax:
verterit hunc dominus, momento turbinis exit
Marcus Dama. papae! Marco spondente recusas
credere tu nummos? Marco sub iudice palles? 80
Marcus dixit: ita est; adsigna, Marce, tabellas.
haec mera libertas; hoc nobis pillea donant!
'An quisquam est alius liber, nisi ducere vitam
cui licet, ut voluit? licet ut volo vivere: non sum
liberior Bruto?' "Mendose colligis," inquit 85
stoicus hic aurem mordaci lotus aceto
"haec reliqua accipio; _licet_ illud et _ut volo_ tolle."
'Vindicta postquam meus a praetore recessi,
cur mihi non liceat, iussit quodcumque voluntas,
excepto si quid Masuri rubrica vetavit?' 90
Disce, sed ira cadat naso rugosaque sanna,
dum veteres avias tibi de pulmone revello.
non praetoris erat stultis dare tenuia rerum
officia atque usum rapidae permittere vitae:
sambucam citius caloni aptaveris alto. 95
stat contra ratio et secretam garrit in aurem,
ne liceat facere id quod quis vitiabit agendo.
publica lex hominum naturaque continet hoc fas,
ut teneat vetitos inscitia debilis actus.
diluis helleborum, certo conpescere puncto 100
nescius examen: vetat hoc natura medendi.
navem si poscat sibi peronatus arator,
luciferi rudis, exclamet Melicerta perisse
frontem de rebus. tibi recto vivere talo
ars dedit, et veri speciem dinoscere calles, 105
ne qua subaerato mendosum tinniat anro?
quaeque sequenda forent, quaeque evitanda vicissim,
illa prius creta, mox haec carbone notasti?
es modicus voti? presso lare? dulcis amicis?
iam nunc astringas, iam nunc granaria laxes, 110
inque luto fixum possis transcendere nummum,
nec glutto sorbere salivam Mercurialem?
'haec mea sunt, teneo' cum vere dixeris, esto
liberque ac sapiens praetoribus ac Iove dextro,
sin tu, cum fueris nostrae paulo ante farinae, 115
pelliculam veterem retines et fronte politus
astutam vapido servas sub pectore vulpem,
quae dederam supra relego funemque reduco:
nil tibi concessit ratio; digitum exsere, peccas,
et quid tam parvum est? sed nullo ture litabis, 120
haereat in stultis brevis ut semuncia recti.
haec miscere nefas; nec, cum sis cetera fossor,
tris tantum ad numeros satyrum moveare Bathylli.
'Liber ego.' Unde datum hoc sentis, tot subdite rebus?
an dominum ignoras, nisi quem vindicta relaxat? 125
'I puer et strigiles Crispini ad balnea defer!'
si increpuit, 'cessas nugator;' servitium acre
te nihil impellit, nec quicquam extrinsecus intrat,
quod nervos agitet; sed si intus et in iecore aegro
nascuntur domini, qui tu inpunitior exis 130
atque hic, quem ad strigiles scutica et metus egit erilis?
Mane piger stertis. 'Surge!' inquit Avaritia 'heia
surge!' Negas; instat 'Surge!' inquit. "Non queo." 'Surge!'
"Et quid agam?" 'Rogitas? en saperdam advehe Ponto,
castoreum, stuppas, hebenum, tus, lubrica Coa; 135
tolle recens primus piper ex sitiente camelo;
verte aliquid; iura.' "Sed Iuppiter audiet." 'Eheu!
varo, regustatum digito terebrare salinum
contentus perages, si vivere cum Iove tendis!'
iam pueris pellem succinctus et oenophorum aptas 140
'Ocius ad navem!' nihil obstat, quin trabe vasta
Aegaeum rapias, ni sollers Luxuria ante
seductum moneat 'Quo deinde, insane, ruis? quo?
quid tibi vis? calido sub pectore mascula bilis
intumuit, quod non exstinxerit urna cicutae? 145
tu mare transilias? tibi torta cannabe fulto
cena sit in transtro, Veientanumque rubellum
exalet vapida laesum pice sessilis obba?
quid petis? ut nummi, quos hic quincunce modesto
nutrieras, pergant avidos sudare deunces? 150
indulge genio, carpamus dulcia! nostrum est
quod vivis; cinis et manes et fabula fies.
vive memor leti! fugit hora; hoc quod loquor inde est.'
en quid agis? duplici in diversum scinderis hamo.
huncine, an hunc sequeris? subeas alternus oportet 155
ancipiti obsequio dominos, alternus oberres.
nec tu, cum obstiteris semel instantique negaris
parere imperio, 'rupi iam vincula' dicas;
nam et luctata canis nodum abripit; et tamen illi,
cum fugit, a collo trahitur pars longa catenae. 160
'Dave, cito, hoc credas iubeo, finire dolores
praeteritos meditor.' crudum Chaerestratus unguem
adrodens ait haec 'an siccis dedecus obstem
cognatis? an rem patriam rumore sinistro
limen ad obscenum frangam, dum Chrysidis udas 165
ebrius ante fores exstincta cum face canto?'
"Euge, puer, sapias, dis depellentibus agnam
percute." 'Sed censen plorabit, Dave, relicta?'
"Nugaris; solea, puer, obiurgabere rubra.
ne trepidare velis atque artos rodere casses! 170
nunc ferus et violens; at si vocet, haud mora, dicas:
_Quidnam igitur faciam? nec nunc, cum arcessat et ultro_
_supplicet, accedam?_ Si totus et integer illinc
exieras, nec nunc." hic hic, quod quaerimus, hic est,
non in festuca, lictor quam iactat ineptus. 175
ius habet ille sui palpo, quem ducit hiantem
cretata ambitio? vigila et cicer ingere large
rixanti populo, nostra ut Floralia possint
aprici meminisse senes: _quid pulchrius?_ at cum
Herodis venere dies, unctaque fenestra 180
dispositae pinguem nebulam vomuere lucernae
portantes violas, rubrumque amplexa catinum
cauda natat thynni, tumet alba fidelia vino:
labra moves tacitus recutitaque sabbata palles.
tum nigri lemures ovoque pericula rupto, 185
tum grandes galli et cum sistro lusca sacerdos
incussere deos inflantis corpora, si non
praedictum ter mane caput gustaveris alli.
Dixeris haec inter varicosos centuriones,
continuo crassum ridet Pulfennius ingens, 190
et centum Graecos curto centusse licetur.

SATURA VI.

Admovit iam bruma foco te, Basse, Sabino?
iamne lyra et tetrico vivunt tibi pectine chordae?
mire opifex numeris veterum primordia vocum
atque marem strepitum fidis intendisse Latinae,
mox iuvenes agitare iocis et pollice honesto 5
egregius lusisse senes. mihi nunc Ligus ora
intepet hibernatque meum mare, qua latus ingens
dant scopuli et multa litus se valle receptat.
Lunai portum, est operae, cognoscite, cives!
cor iubet hoc Enni, postquam destertuit esse 10
Maeonides, Quintus pavone ex Pythagoreo.
hic ego securus vulgi et quid praeparet auster
infelix pecori, securus et angulus ille
vicini nostro quia pinguior, etsi adeo omnes
ditescant orti peioribus, usque recusem 15
curvus ob id minui senio aut cenare sine uncto,
et signum in vapida naso tetigisse lagoena.
discrepet his alius! geminos, horoscope, varo
producis genio. solis natalibus est qui
tingat holus siccum muria vafer in calice empta, 20
ipse sacrum inrorans patinae piper; hic bona dente
grandia magnanimus peragit puer. utar ego, utar,
nec rhombos ideo libertis ponere lautus,
nec tenuis sollers turdarum nosse salivas.
messe tenus propria vive et granaria, fas est, 25
emole; quid metuis? occa, et seges altera in herba est.
ast vocat officium: trabe rupta Bruttia saxa
prendit amicus inops, remque omnem surdaque vota
condidit Ionio; iacet ipse in litore et una
ingentes de puppe dii, iamque obvia mergis 30
costa ratis lacerae. nunc et de caespite vivo
frange aliquid, largire inopi, ne pictus oberret
caerulea in tabula. 'Sed cenam funeris heres
negleget, iratus quod rem curtaveris; urnae
ossa inodora dabit, seu spirent cinnama surdum, 35
seu ceraso peccent casiae, nescire paratus.
tune bona incolumis minuas? et Bestius urguet
doctores Graios: _Ita fit, postquam sapere urbi_
_cum pipere et palmis venit nostrum hoc maris expers;_
_fenisecae crasso vitiarunt unguine pultes._' 40
Haec cinere ulterior metuas? At tu, meus heres
quisquis eris, paulum a turba seductior audi.
o bone, num ignoras? missa est a Caesare laurus
insignem ob cladem Germanae pubis, et aris
frigidus excutitur cinis, ac iam postibus arma, 45
iam chlamydes regum, iam lutea gausapa captis
essedaque ingentesque locat Caesonia Rhenos.
dis igitur genioque ducis centum paria ob res
egregie gestas induco; quis vetat? aude.
vae, nisi conives! oleum artocreasque popello 50
largior; an prohibes? dic clare! 'Non adeo,' inquis
'exossatus ager iuxta est.' Age, si mihi nulla
iam reliqua ex amitis, patruelis nulla, proneptis
nulla manet patrui, sterilis matertera vixit,
deque avia nihilum superest, accedo Bovillas 55
clivumque ad Virbi, praesto est mihi Manius heres.
'Progenies terrae?' Quaere ex me, quis mihi quartus
sit pater: haud prompte, dicam tamen; adde etiam unum,
unum etiam: terrae est iam filius, et mihi ritu
Manius hic generis prope maior avunculus exit. 60
qui prior es, cur me in decursu lampada poscis?
sum tibi Mercurius; venio deus huc ego ut ille
pingitur; an renuis? vin tu gaudere relictis?
'Dest aliquid summae.' Minui mihi; sed tibi totum est,
quidquid id est. ubi sit, fuge quaerere, quod mihi quondam 65
legarat Tadius, neu dicta repone paterna:
_Faenoris accedat merces; hinc exime sumptus._
_quid reliquum est?_ Reliquum? nunc, nunc inpensius ungue,
ungue, puer, caules! mihi festa luce coquetur
urtica et fissa fumosum sinciput aure, 70
ut tuus iste nepos olim satur anseris extis,
cum morosa vago singultiet inguine vena,
patriciae inmeiat vulvae? mihi trama figurae
sit reliqua, ast illi tremat omento popa venter?
vende animam lucro, mercare atque excute sollers 75
omne latus mundi, nec sit praestantior alter
Cappadocas rigida pinguis plausisse castata:
rem duplica. 'Feci; iam triplex, iam mihi quarto,
iam deciens redit in rugam: depunge, ubi sistam.'
Inventus, Chrysippe, tui finitor acervi. 80

End of duplicated material:
see Transcriber's Note at beginning of e-text.

* * * * *

_Quando cerco norme di gusto, vado ad Orazio, il più amabile;
quando ho bisogno di bile contra le umane ribalderie, visito
Giovenale, il più splendido; quando mi studio d'esser onesto,
vivo con PERSIO, il più saggio, e con infinito piacere mescolato
di vergogna bevo li dettati della ragione su le labbra di questo
verecondo e santissimo giovanetto._ VINCENZO MONTI.

+Sunistanto hoi men hôs touton, hoi d' hôs ekeinon plên monou
tou Iônos; ekeinos de meson heauton ephulatten.+ +LOUKIANOU.+

_PERSIUS das rechte Ideal eines hoffärtigen und mattherzigen
der Poesie beflissenen Jungen._ MOMMSEN.

PROLOGUS.

Nec fonte labra prolui caballino,
nec in bicipiti somniasse Parnaso
memini, ut repente sic poeta prodirem.
Heliconidasque pallidamque Pirenen
illis remitto, quorum imagines lambunt 5
hederae sequaces: ipse semipaganus
ad sacra vatum carmen adfero nostrum.
quis expedivit psittaco suum chaere
picamque docuit nostra verba conari?
magister artis ingenique largitor 10
venter, negatas artifex sequi voces;
quod si dolosi spes refulserit nummi,
corvos poetas et poetridas picas
cantare credas Pegaseium nectar.

SATURA I.

O curas hominum! o quantum est in rebus inane!
'Quis leget haec?' Min tu istud ais? nemo hercule! 'Nemo?'
Vel duo, vel nemo. 'Turpe et miserabile!' Quare?
ne mihi Polydamas et Troiades Labeonem
praetulerint? nugae. non, si quid turbida Roma 5
elevet, accedas examenque inprobum in illa
castiges trutina, nec te quaesiveris extra.
nam Romae quis non--? a, si fas dicere-- sed fas
tum, cum ad canitiem et nostrum istud vivere triste
aspexi ac nucibus facimus quaecumque relictis, 10
cum sapimus patruos; tunc, tunc, ignoscite-- 'Nolo.'
Quid faciam? sed sum petulanti splene cachinno.
Scribimus inclusi, numeros ille, his pede liber,
grande aliquid, quod pulmo animae praelargus anhelet.
scilicet haec populo pexusque togaque recenti 15
et natalicia tandem cum sardonyche albus
sede leges celsa, liquido cum plasmate guttur
mobile collueris, patranti fractus ocello.
hic neque more probo videas nec voce serena
ingentis trepidare Titos, cum carmina lumbum 20
intrant, et tremulo scalpuntur ubi intima versu.
tun, vetule, auriculis alienis colligis escas?
auriculis, quibus et dicas cute perditus _ohe_.
'Quo didicisse, nisi hoc fermentum et quae semel intus
innata est rupto iecore exierit caprificus?' 25
En pallor seniumque! o mores! usque adeone
scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter?
'At pulchrum est digito monstrari et dicier _hic est!_
ten cirratorum centum dictata fuisse
pro nihilo pendas?' Ecce inter pocula quaerunt 30
Romulidae saturi, quid dia poemata narrent.
hic aliquis, cui circa umeros hyacinthia laena est,
rancidulum quiddam balba de nare locutus,
Phyllidas Hypsipylas, vatum et plorabile si quid,
eliquat ac tenero supplantat verba palato. 35
adsensere viri: nunc non cinis ille poetae
felix? non levior cippus nunc inprimit ossa?
laudant convivae: nunc non e manibus illis,
nunc non e tumulo fortunataque favilla
nascentur violae? 'Rides' ait 'et nimis uncis 40
naribus indulges. an erit qui velle recuset
os populi meruisse et cedro digna locutus
linquere nec scombros metuentia carmina nec tus?'
Quisquis es, o, modo quem ex adverso dicere feci,
non ego cum scribo, si forte quid aptius exit, 45
quando haec rara avis est, si quid tamen aptius exit,
laudari metuam, neque enim mihi cornea fibra est;
sed recti finemque extremumque esse recuso
euge tuum et belle. nam belle hoc excute totum:
quid non intus habet? non hic est Ilias Atti 50
ebria veratro? non si qua elegidia crudi
dictarunt proceres? non quidquid denique lectis
scribitur in citreis? calidum seis ponere sumen,
scis comitem horridulum trita donare lacerna,
et 'verum' inquis 'amo: verum mihi dicite de me.' 55
qui pote? vis dicam? nugaris, cum tibi, calve,
pinguis aqualiculus protenso sesquipede exstet.
o Iane, a tergo quem nulla ciconia pinsit,
nec manus auriculas imitari mobilis albas,
nec linguae, quantum, sitiat canis Apula, tantae! 60
vos, o patricius sanguis, quos vivere fas est
occipiti caeco, posticae occurrite sannae!
Quis populi sermo est? quis enim, nisi carmina molli
nunc demum numero fluere, ut per leve severos
effundat iunctura unguis? scit tendere versum 65
non secus ac si oculo rubricam derigat uno.
sive opus in mores, in luxum, in prandia regum
dicere, res grandis nostro dat Musa poetae.
ecce modo heroas sensus adferre videmus
nugari solitos graece, nec ponere lucum 70
artifices nec rus saturum laudare, ubi corbes
et focus et porci et fumosa Palilia faeno,
unde Remus, sulcoque terens dentalia, Quinti,
cum trepida ante boves dictatorem induit uxor
et tua aratra domum lictor tulit-- euge poeta! 75
est nunc Brisaei quem venosus liber Acci,
sunt quos Pacuviusque et verrucosa moretur
Antiopa, aerumnis cor luctificabile fulta.
hos pueris monitus patres infundere lippos
cum videas, quaerisne, unde haec sartago loquendi 80
venerit in linguas, unde istuc dedecus, in quo
trossulus exsultat tibi per subsellia levis?
nilne pudet capiti non posse pericula cano
pellere, quin tepidum hoc optes audire _decenter_?
'Fur es' ait Pedio. Pedius quid? crimina rasis 85
librat in antithetis: doctas posuisse figuras
laudatur 'bellum hoc!' hoc bellum? an, Romule, ceves?
men moveat? quippe et, cantet si naufragus, assem
protulerim. cantas, cum fracta te in trabe pictum
ex umero portes? verum, nec nocte paratum 90
plorabit, qui me volet incurvasse querela.
'Sed numeris decor est et iunctura addita crudis.
cludere sic versum didicit _Berecyntius Attis_
et _qui caeruleum dirimebat Nerea delphin_
sic _costam longo subduximus Appennino_. 95
_Arma virum_, nonne hoc spumosum et cortice pingui,
ut ramale vetus vegrandi subere coctum?'
'Quidnam igitur tenerum et laxa cervice legendum?
_Torva mimalloneis inplerunt cornua bombis,_
_et raptum vitulo caput ablatura superbo_ 100
_Bassaris et lyncem Maenas flexura corymbis_
_euhion ingeminat, reparabilis adsonat echo?'_
haec fierent, si testiculi vena ulla paterni
viveret in nobis? summa delumbe saliva
hoc natat in labris, et in udo est Maenas et Attis, 105
nec pluteum caedit, nec demorsos sapit unguis.
'Sed quid opus teneras mordaci radere vero
auriculas? vide sis, ne maiorum tibi forte
limina frigescant: sonat hic de nare canina
littera.' Per me equidem sint omnia protinus alba; 110
nil moror. euge! omnes, omnes bene mirae eritis res.
hoc iuvat? 'hic' inquis 'veto quisquam faxit oletum.'
pinge duos anguis: pueri, sacer est locus, extra
meite! discedo. secuit Lucilius urbem,
te Lupe, te Muci, et genuinum fregit in illis; 115
omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico
tangit et admissus circum praecordia ludit,
callidus excusso populum suspendere naso:
men muttire nefas? nec clam, nec cum scrobe? nusquam?
hic tamen infodiam. vidi, vidi ipse, libelle: 120
auriculas asini quis non habet? hoc ego opertum,
hoc ridere meum, tam nil, nulla tibi vendo
Iliade. audaci quicumque adflate Cratino
iratum Eupolidem praegrandi cum sene palles,
aspice et haec, si forte aliquid decoctius audis. 125
inde vaporata lector mihi ferveat aure:
non hic, qui in crepidas Graiorum ludere gestit
sordidus, et lusco qui possit dicere 'lusce,'
sese aliquem credens, Italo quod honore supinus
fregerit heminas Arreti aedilis iniquas; 130
nec qui abaco numeros et secto in pulvere metas
scit risisse vafer, multum gaudere paratus,
si cynico barbam petulans nonaria vellat.
his mane edictum, post prandia Calliroen do.

SATURA II.

Hunc, Macrine, diem numera meliore lapillo
qui tibi labentis apponit candidus annos.
funde merum genio. non tu prece poscis emaci,
quae nisi seductis nequeas committere divis;
at bona pars procerum tacita libabit acerra. 5
haud cuivis promptum est murmurque humilisque susurros
tollere de templis et aperto vivere voto.
'Mens bona, fama, fides' haec clare et ut audiat hospes;
illa sibi introrsum et sub lingua murmurat 'o si
ebulliat patruus, praeclarum funus?' et 'o si 10
sub rastro crepet argenti mihi seria dextro
Hercule! pupillumve utinam, quem proximus heres
inpello, expungam! namque est scabiosus et acri
bile tumet. Nerio iam tertia conditur uxor.'
haec sancte ut poscas, Tiberino in gurgite mergis 15
mane caput bis terque et noctem flumine purgas?
heus age, responde-- minimum est quod scire laboro--
de Iove quid sentis? estne ut praeponere cures
hunc-- 'cuinam?' cuinam? vis Staio? an scilicet haeres?
quis potior index, puerisve quis aptior orbis? 20
hoc igitur, quo tu Iovis aurem inpellere temptas,
dic agedum Staio, 'pro Iuppiter! o bone' clamet
'Iuppiter!' at sese non clamet Iuppiter ipse?
ignovisse putas, quia, cum tonat, ocius ilex
sulpure discutitur sacro quam tuque domusque? 25
an quia non fibris ovium Ergennaque iubente
triste iaces lucis evitandumque bidental,
idcirco stolidam praebet tibi vellere barbam
Iuppiter? aut quidnam est, qua tu mercede deorum
emeris auriculas? pulmone et lactibus unctis? 30
Ecce avia aut metuens divum matertera cunis
exemit puerum frontemque atque uda labella
infami digito et lustralibus ante salivis
expiat, urentis oculos inhibere perita;
tunc manibus quatit et spem macram supplice voto 35
nunc Licini in campos, nunc Crassi mittit in aedis
'hunc optet generum rex et regina! puellae
hunc rapiant! quidquid calcaverit hic, rosa fiat!'
ast ego nutrici non mando vota: negato,
Iuppiter, haec illi, quamvis te albata rogarit. 40
Poscis opem nervis corpusque fidele senectae.
esto age; sed grandes patinae tuccetaque crassa
adnuere his superos vetuere Iovemque morantur.
Rem struere exoptas caeso bove Mercuriumque
arcessis fibra 'da fortunare Penatis, 45
da pecus et gregibus fetum!' quo, pessime, pacto,
tot tibi cum in flammas iunicum omenta liquescant
et tamen hic extis et opimo vincere ferto
intendit 'iam crescit ager, iam crescit ovile,
iam dabitur, iam iam!' donec deceptus et exspes 50
nequiquam fundo suspiret nummus in imo.
Si tibi creterras argenti incusaque pingui
auro dona feram, sudes et pectore laevo
excutiat guttas laetari praetrepidum cor.
hinc illud subiit, auro sacras quod ovato 55
perducis facies; nam fratres inter aenos
somnia pituita qui purgatissima mittunt,
praecipui sunto sitque illis aurea barba.
aurum vasa Numae Saturniaque inpulit aera
Vestalisque urnas et Tuscum fictile mutat. 60
o curvae in terris animae et caelestium inanes!
quid iuvat hoc, templis nostros inmittere mores
et bona dis ex hac scelerata ducere pulpa?
haec sibi corrupto casiam dissolvit olivo,
haec Calabrum coxit vitiato murice vellus, 65
haec bacam conchae rasisse et stringere venas
ferventis massae crudo de pulvere iussit.
peccat et haec, peccat: vitio tamen utitur. at vos
dicite, pontifices, in sancto quid facit aurum?
nempe hoc quod Veneri donatae a virgine pupae. 70
quin damus id superis, de magna quod dare lance
non possit magni Messallae lippa propago:
conpositum ius fasque animo sanctosque recessus
mentis et incoctum generoso pectus honesto.
haec cedo ut admoveam templis et farre litabo. 75

SATURA III.

'Nempe haec adsidue: iam clarum mane fenestras
intrat et angustas extendit lumine rimas:
stertimus indomitum quod despumare Falernum
sufficiat, quinta dum linea tangitur umbra.
en quid agis? siccas insana canicula messis 5
iam dudum coquit et patula pecus omne sub ulmo est.'
unus ait comitum. "Verumne? itane? ocius adsit
huc aliquis! nemon?" turgescit vitrea bilis:
"findor"-- ut Arcadiae pecuaria rudere dicas.
iam liber et positis bicolor membrana capillis 10
inque manus chartae nodosaque venit harundo.
tunc querimur, crassus calamo quod pendeat umor,
nigra quod infusa vanescat sepia lympha;
dilutas querimur geminet quod fistula guttas.
o miser inque dies ultra miser, hucine rerum 15
venimus? at cur non potius teneroque columbo
et similis regum pueris pappare minutum
poscis et iratus mammae lallare recusas?
"An tali studeam calamo?" Cui verba? quid istas
succinis ambages? tibi luditur. effluis amens, 20
contemnere: sonat vitium percussa, maligne
respondet viridi non cocta fidelia limo.
udum et molle lutum es, nunc nunc properandus et acri
fingendus sine fine rota. sed rure paterno
est tibi far modicum, purum et sine labe salinum-- 25
quid metuas?-- cultrixque foci secura patella.
hoc satis? an deceat pulmonem rumpere ventis,
stemmate quod Tusco ramum millesime ducis,
censoremne tuum vel quod trabeate salutas?
ad populum phaleras! ego te intus et in cute novi. 30
non pudet ad morem discincti vivere Nattae?
sed stupet hic vitio et fibris increvit opimum
pingue, caret culpa, nescit quid perdat, et alto
demersus summa rursum non bullit in unda.
magne pater divum, saevos punire tyrannos 35
haud alia ratione velis, cum dira libido
moverit ingenium ferventi tincta veneno:
virtutem videant intabescantque relicta.
anne magis Siculi gemuerunt aera iuvenci,
et magis auratis pendens laquearibus ensis 40
purpureas subter cervices terruit, 'imus,
imus praecipites' quam si sibi dicat et intus
palleat infelix, quod proxima nesciat uxor?
Saepe oculos, memini, tangebam parvus olivo,
grandia si nollem morituri verba Catonis 45
discere, non sano multum laudanda magistro,
quae pater adductis sudans audiret amicis.
iure; etenim id summum, quid dexter senio ferret,
scire erat in voto; damnosa canicula quantum
raderet; angustae collo non fallier orcae; 50
neu quis callidior buxum torquere flagello.
haud tibi inexpertum curvos deprendere mores,
quaeque docet sapiens bracatis inlita Medis
porticus, insomnis quibus et detonsa iuventus
invigilat, siliquis et grandi pasta polenta; 55
et tibi quae Samios diduxit littera ramos
surgentem dextro monstravit limite callem.
stertis adhuc, laxumque caput conpage soluta
oscitat hesternum, dissutis undique malis!
est aliquid quo tendis, et in quod dirigis arcum? 60
an passim sequeris corvos testaque lutoque,
securus quo pes ferat, atque ex tempore vivis?
helleborum frustra, cum iam cutis aegra tumebit,
poscentis videas: venienti occurrite morbo!
et quid opus Cratero magnos promittere montis? 65
discite, o miseri, et causas cognoscite rerum:
quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimur; ordo
quis datus, aut metae qua mollis flexus et unde;
quis modus argento, quid fas optare, quid asper
utile nummus habet; patriae carisque propinquis 70
quantum elargiri deceat; quem te deus esse
iussit, et humana qua parte locatus es in re.
disce, nec invideas, quod multa fidelia putet
in locuplete penu, defensis pinguibus Umbris,
et piper et pernae, Marsi monumenta clientis, 75
menaque quod prima nondum defecerit orca.
Hic aliquis de gente hircosa centurionum
dicat 'Quod sapio satis est mihi. non ego curo
esse quod Arcesilas aerumnosique Solones,
obstipo capite et figentes lumine terram, 80
murmura cum secum et rabiosa silentia rodunt
atque exporrecto trutinantur verba labello,
aegroti veteris meditantes somnia, _gigni_
_de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti._
hoc est, quod palles? cur quis non prandeat, hoc est?' 85
His populus ridet, multumque torosa iuventus
ingeminat tremulos naso crispante cachinnos.
'Inspice; nescio quid trepidat mihi pectus et aegris
faucibus exsuperat gravis alitus; inspice, sodes!'
qui dicit medico, iussus requiescere, postquam 90
tertia conpositas vidit nox currere venas,
de maiore domo modice sitiente lagoena
lenia loturo sibi Surrentina rogabit.
'Heus, bone, tu palles!' "Nihil est." 'Videas tamen istuc,
quidquid id est: surgit tacite tibi lutea pellis.' 95
"At tu deterius palles; ne sis mihi tutor;
iam pridem hunc sepeli: tu restas." 'Perge, tacebo.'
turgidus hic epulis atque albo ventre lavatur,
gutture sulpureas lente exalante mefites;
sed tremor inter vina subit calidumque triental 100
excutit e manibus, dentes crepuere retecti,
uncta cadunt laxis tunc pulmentaria labris.
hinc tuba, candelae, tandemque beatulus alto
conpositus lecto crassisque lutatus amomis
in portam rigidas calces extendit: at illum 105
hesterni capite induto subiere Quirites.
'Tange, miser, venas et pone in pectore dextram.
nil calet hic. summosque pedes attinge manusque.
non frigent.' Visa est si forte pecunia, sive
candida vicini subrisit molle puella, 110
cor tibi rite salit? positum est algente catino
durum holus et populi cribro decussa farina:
temptemus fauces, tenero latet ulcus in ore
putre, quod haud deceat plebeia radere beta.
alges, cum excussit membris timor albus aristas; 115
nunc face supposita fervescit sanguis et ira
scintillant oculi, dicisque facisque, quod ipse
non sani esse hominis non sanus iuret Orestes.

SATURA IV.

'Rem populi tractas?' barbatum haec crede magistrum
dicere, sorbitio tollit quem dira cicutae
'quo fretus? dic hoc, magni pupille Pericli.
scilicet ingenium et rerum prudentia velox
ante pilos venit, dicenda tacendaque calles. 5
ergo ubi commota fervet plebecula bile,
fert animus calidae fecisse silentia turbae
maiestate manus. quid deinde loquere? "Quirites,
hoc puta non iustum est, illud male, rectius illud."
scis etenim iustum gemina suspendere lance 10
ancipitis librae, rectum discernis, ubi inter
curva subit, vel cum fallit pede regula varo,
et potis es nigrum vitio praefigere theta.
quin tu igitur, summa nequiquam pelle decorus,
ante diem blando caudam iactare popello 15
desinis, Anticyras melior sorbere meracas!
quae tibi summa boni est? uncta vixisse patella
semper et adsiduo curata cuticula sole?
exspecta, haud aliud respondeat haec anus. i nunc
"Dinomaches ego sum," suffla "sum candidus." esto; 20
dum ne deterius sapiat pannucia Baucis,
cum bene discincto cantaverit ocima vernae.'
Ut nemo in sese temptat descendere, nemo,
sed praecedenti spectatur mantica tergo!
quaesieris 'Nostin Vettidi praedia?' "Cuius?" 25
'Dives arat Curibus quantum non miluus errat.'
"Hunc ais, hunc dis iratis genioque sinistro,
qui, quandoque iugum pertusa ad compita figit,
seriolae veterem metuens deradere limum
ingemit: _hoc bene sit!_ tunicatum cum sale mordens 30
caepe et farrata pueris plaudentibus olla
pannosam faecem morientis sorbet aceti?"
at si unctus cesses et figas in cute solem,
est prope te ignotus, cubito qui tangat et acre
despuat 'hi mores! penemque arcanaque lumbi 35
runcantem populo marcentis pandere vulvas!
tu cum maxillis balanatum gausape pectas,
inguinibus quare detonsus gurgulio exstat?
quinque palaestritae licet haec plantaria vellant
elixasque nates labefactent forcipe adunca, 40
non tamen ista filix ullo mansuescit aratro.'
caedimus inque vicem praebemus crura sagittis.
vivitur hoc pacto; sic novimus. ilia subter
caecum vulnus habes; sed lato balteus auro
praetegit. ut mavis, da verba et decipe nervos, 45
si potes. 'Egregium cum me vicinia dicat,
non credam?' Viso si palles, inprobe, nummo,
si facis in penem quidquid tibi venit amarum,
si puteal multa cautus vibice flagellas:
nequiquam populo bibulas donaveris aures. 50
respue, quod non es; tollat sua munera cerdo;
tecum habita: noris, quam sit tibi curta supellex.

SATURA V.

Vatibus hic mos est, centum sibi poscere voces,
centum ora et linguas optare in carmina centum,
fabula seu maesto ponatur hianda tragoedo,
vulnera seu Parthi ducentis ab inguine ferrum.
'Quorsum haec? aut quantas robusti carminis offas 5
ingeris, ut par sit centeno gutture niti?
grande locuturi nebulas Helicone legunto,
si quibus aut Prognes, aut si quibus olla Thyestae
fervebit, saepe insulso cenanda Glyconi;
tu neque anhelanti, coquitur dum massa camino, 10
folle premis ventos, nec clauso murmure raucus
nescio quid tecum grave cornicaris inepte,
nec scloppo tumidas intendis rumpere buccas.
verba togae sequeris iunctura callidus acri,
ore teres modico, pallentis radere mores 15
doctus et ingenuo culpam defigere ludo.
hinc trahe quae dicis, mensasque relinque Mycenis
cum capite et pedibus, plebeiaque prandia noris.'
Non equidem hoc studeo, bullatis ut mihi nugis
pagina turgescat, dare pondus idonea fumo. 20
secreti loquimur; tibi nunc hortante Camena
excutienda damus praecordia, quantaque nostrae
pars tua sit, Cornute, animae, tibi, dulcis amice,
ostendisse iuvat: pulsa, dinoscere cautus,
quid solidum crepet et pictae tectoria linguae. 25
his ego centenas ausim deposcere voces,
ut, quantum mihi te sinuoso in pectore fixi,
voce traham pura, totumque hoc verba resignent,
quod latet arcana non enarrabile fibra.
Cum primum pavido custos mihi purpura cessit 30
bullaque succinctis Laribus donata pependit;
cum blandi comites totaque inpune Subura
permisit sparsisse oculos iam candidus umbo;
cumque iter ambiguum est et vitae nescius error
deducit trepidas ramosa in compita mentes, 35
me tibi supposui: teneros tu suscipis annos
Socratico, Cornute, sinu; tum fallere sollers
apposita intortos extendit regula mores,
et premitur ratione animus vincique laborat
artificemque tuo ducit sub pollice vultum. 40
tecum etenim longos memini consumere soles,
et tecum primas epulis decerpere noctes:
unum opus et requiem pariter disponimus ambo,
atque verecunda laxamus seria mensa.
non equidem hoc dubites, amborum foedere certo 45
consentire dies et ab uno sidere duci
nostra vel aequali suspendit tempora Libra
Parca tenax veri, seu nata fidelibus hora
dividit in Geminos concordia fata duorum,
Saturnumque gravem nostro Iove frangimus una: 50
nescio quod, certe est, quod me tibi temperat astrum.
Mille hominum species et rerum discolor usus;
velle suum cuique est, nec voto vivitur uno.
mercibus hic Italis mutat sub sole recenti
rugosum piper et pallentis grana cumini, 55
hic satur inriguo mavult turgescere somno;
hic campo indulget, hunc alea decoquit, ille
in Venerem putris; sed cum lapidosa cheragra
fregerit articulos, veteris ramalia fagi,
tunc crassos transisse dies lucemque palustrem 60
et sibi iam seri vitam ingemuere relictam.
at te nocturnis iuvat inpallescere chartis;
cultor enim iuvenum purgatas inseris aures
fruge Cleanthea. petite hinc puerique senesque
finem animo certum miserisque viatica canis! 65
'Cras hoc fiet.' Idem cras fiet. 'Quid? quasi magnum
nempe diem donas.' Sed cum lux altera venit,
iam cras hesternum consumpsimus: ecce aliud cras
egerit hos annos et semper paulum erit ultra.
nam quamvis prope te, quamvis temone sub uno 70
vertentem sese frustra sectabere cantum,
cum rota posterior curras et in axe secundo.
Libertate opus est, non hac, ut, quisque Velina
Publius emeruit, scabiosum tesserula far
possidet. heu steriles veri, quibus una Quiritem 75
vertigo facit! hic Dama est non tressis agaso,
vappa lippus et in tenui farragine mendax:
verterit hunc dominus, momento turbinis exit
Marcus Dama. papae! Marco spondente recusas
credere tu nummos? Marco sub iudice palles? 80
Marcus dixit: ita est; adsigna, Marce, tabellas.
haec mera libertas; hoc nobis pillea donant!
'An quisquam est alius liber, nisi ducere vitam
cui licet, ut voluit? licet ut volo vivere: non sum
liberior Bruto?' "Mendose colligis," inquit 85
stoicus hic aurem mordaci lotus aceto
"haec reliqua accipio; _licet_ illud et _ut volo_ tolle."
'Vindicta postquam meus a praetore recessi,
cur mihi non liceat, iussit quodcumque voluntas,
excepto si quid Masuri rubrica vetavit?' 90
Disce, sed ira cadat naso rugosaque sanna,
dum veteres avias tibi de pulmone revello.
non praetoris erat stultis dare tenuia rerum
officia atque usum rapidae permittere vitae:
sambucam citius caloni aptaveris alto. 95
stat contra ratio et secretam garrit in aurem,
ne liceat facere id quod quis vitiabit agendo.
publica lex hominum naturaque continet hoc fas,
ut teneat vetitos inscitia debilis actus.
diluis helleborum, certo conpescere puncto 100
nescius examen: vetat hoc natura medendi.
navem si poscat sibi peronatus arator,
luciferi rudis, exclamet Melicerta perisse
frontem de rebus. tibi recto vivere talo
ars dedit, et veri speciem dinoscere calles, 105
ne qua subaerato mendosum tinniat anro?
quaeque sequenda forent, quaeque evitanda vicissim,
illa prius creta, mox haec carbone notasti?
es modicus voti? presso lare? dulcis amicis?
iam nunc astringas, iam nunc granaria laxes, 110
inque luto fixum possis transcendere nummum,
nec glutto sorbere salivam Mercurialem?
'haec mea sunt, teneo' cum vere dixeris, esto
liberque ac sapiens praetoribus ac Iove dextro,
sin tu, cum fueris nostrae paulo ante farinae, 115
pelliculam veterem retines et fronte politus
astutam vapido servas sub pectore vulpem,
quae dederam supra relego funemque reduco:
nil tibi concessit ratio; digitum exsere, peccas,
et quid tam parvum est? sed nullo ture litabis, 120
haereat in stultis brevis ut semuncia recti.
haec miscere nefas; nec, cum sis cetera fossor,
tris tantum ad numeros satyrum moveare Bathylli.
'Liber ego.' Unde datum hoc sentis, tot subdite rebus?
an dominum ignoras, nisi quem vindicta relaxat? 125
'I puer et strigiles Crispini ad balnea defer!'
si increpuit, 'cessas nugator;' servitium acre
te nihil impellit, nec quicquam extrinsecus intrat,
quod nervos agitet; sed si intus et in iecore aegro
nascuntur domini, qui tu inpunitior exis 130
atque hic, quem ad strigiles scutica et metus egit erilis?
Mane piger stertis. 'Surge!' inquit Avaritia 'heia
surge!' Negas; instat 'Surge!' inquit. "Non queo." 'Surge!'
"Et quid agam?" 'Rogitas? en saperdam advehe Ponto,
castoreum, stuppas, hebenum, tus, lubrica Coa; 135
tolle recens primus piper ex sitiente camelo;
verte aliquid; iura.' "Sed Iuppiter audiet." 'Eheu!
varo, regustatum digito terebrare salinum
contentus perages, si vivere cum Iove tendis!'
iam pueris pellem succinctus et oenophorum aptas 140
'Ocius ad navem!' nihil obstat, quin trabe vasta
Aegaeum rapias, ni sollers Luxuria ante
seductum moneat 'Quo deinde, insane, ruis? quo?
quid tibi vis? calido sub pectore mascula bilis
intumuit, quod non exstinxerit urna cicutae? 145
tu mare transilias? tibi torta cannabe fulto
cena sit in transtro, Veientanumque rubellum
exalet vapida laesum pice sessilis obba?
quid petis? ut nummi, quos hic quincunce modesto
nutrieras, pergant avidos sudare deunces? 150
indulge genio, carpamus dulcia! nostrum est
quod vivis; cinis et manes et fabula fies.
vive memor leti! fugit hora; hoc quod loquor inde est.'
en quid agis? duplici in diversum scinderis hamo.
huncine, an hunc sequeris? subeas alternus oportet 155
ancipiti obsequio dominos, alternus oberres.
nec tu, cum obstiteris semel instantique negaris
parere imperio, 'rupi iam vincula' dicas;
nam et luctata canis nodum abripit; et tamen illi,
cum fugit, a collo trahitur pars longa catenae. 160
'Dave, cito, hoc credas iubeo, finire dolores
praeteritos meditor.' crudum Chaerestratus unguem
adrodens ait haec 'an siccis dedecus obstem
cognatis? an rem patriam rumore sinistro
l

*farts*

*farts in latin while picking Mr. Bean's baby's nose in public and flicks wet boogers at you all with a heil Hitler gesture*

* vomits on the farters, while runny nose splashes on their toes *

Okay... just how does one fart in Latin, Atomic?

Fartus?

Biggus Fartus?

Vomitus, PeaBee?

Darn it,

And furthermore,











I better not get flagged for abuse for doing what the thread wants me to do......:)

That will stop most people just for the download time, I feel like flagging it just so it won't appear for download, same with the Latin mess...

Well, it's the GOAL of the THREAD. Maybe I did it. Do I get a prize?

What happens to me if I get flagged? I'm a good citizen!
I don't want to be flagged!

You succeeded. I'm putting this thread on ignore. It's too big.

Me too. This USED to be fun....

Oh dear...
LOL

Job well done, Atomic...

You get the award for the KILL!!!!!

Now, will you please edit it out?

Then it's not a real kill is it?

True.
;o)

There are simpler ways to kill the thread thAn with a sledge hammer.

Sometimes a finely tuned needle into the heart can do the trick:

Here:

Oh dear.
Now I feel ill...
:oS

Now, that was true EVIL.

Yup, there's the surgeon's method, and the lumberjack's method.

I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay, I work all night and I sleep all day.

Oh, you sly dawg...
It almost had me fooled...
Until I noticed the link wasn't clickable....
Very tricksy unencumbered brain, you are...

You all know you want to feed my insecurities--let my post win. Then again, if you post after me, I'm not the thread killer I feared I was.
I can't lose!

Maybe those Catholics were right about confession.

If this post doesn't kill the thread, I shall be bereft. Forever cursed
by the lack-of-killing ability, I shall walk the earth, amidst the havoc
of the natural world's unceasing struggle for existence, my feet tramelling
the sodden death mulch of untold organic expirations. The changing sky,
always carrying soaking fingers of electric doom in its swollen blackness, shall
envelop my being and crush me into mournful stasis. Every breath, one inhalation
closer to my inevitable joining with the putrid stench-filled mulch of the past.
Thus, my inability to kill the thread shall haunt me until my cell walls rupture and
ooze, finally allowing my corpus to physically mirror the putrescence of my sordid soul.

So bring it on, just one more post, and catalyze the end of my joys, the inevitable
joining with the eternal void that failure to kill the thread will commence.

*wonders if he should stop reading this string of Gothic literature that he's immersed in*

I'm warnin' y'all.

If I only were a Goth
To the tune of “If I only had a brain”
Performed by ThouShaltNot

I'd be thinner, I'd be taller
Go clubbing in my collar
With skin pale as a moth
Dressed in black, I'd go creepin'
While the normal folk are sleepin'
If I only were a Goth
With my hair up, I'd look fancy
Like Siouxsie and the Banshees
With silk or velvet cloth
Dressed in boots, never sandals
And the room would be lit with candles
If I only were a Goth

Yes I'd wanna die
From the bottom of my heart impure
Would I like another clove? Well, sure
And after that, we'll go listen to The Cure

I'd pretend to be a vampire
Like in stories 'round the campfire
I'd suck your bloody froth
Yes the thing I'd be best at
Is impersonating Lestat
If I only were a Goth

In my casket purse I'm toutin'
Einsturzende Neubauten
And pagan hymns to Thoth
Yes the world would be depressing
Over death I'd be obsessing
And this corpse that I'm undressing
Would be sexier, I'm guessing
With my diet I'd get scurvy
And I'd worship Peter Murphy
If I only were a Goth

Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

*thud*

I suppose that's one way to kill a thread, kill off one member at a time. Love that song littlegeek. :)

Hubby found that one. you can download it from iTunes.

*urk, grop*

Great song!

*kicking Atomicmutant while he's down*

Hey! Be nice.

*gurgle, gurgle, spew*

Flop!

If your looking for Sympathy I can tell you where to find it...

No, lol, I'm being this thread, which is having one of those long, slow, overwrought death scenes. Plus, I promised if Message 55 weren't the last, I'd get all sorts of consumed by existential gothic angst in a vain attempt to get others to stop, and really, really kill this thread, which I have now noticed is maybe the widest thread ever and so lends itself well to run-on sentences in a way that no thread before has so I'm just sorta running with it and seeing where it leads me, not in any way in an attempt to engender sympathy, but more for the sheer delight of watching the bar scroll and scroll as I type and type and there's seemingly no end in sight, and it's just one of those "winding path" sort of life experiences where you keep going and going, wondering what's over the next hill, or in this case, past the first virtual carriage return, just for the sake of it, and so it goes, with nary a care for proper formatting or the aforementioned punctuational norms and mores, throwing all caution to the wind, except there it is and now I'm on another line. How about that.

I am really laughing. Must be because my stomach is full...

Dagnabit, it's wider. Who's feeding Twinkies to the thread?

Follow the yellow brick road, follow the yellow brick, follow, follow...

This is going to be the longest, longest lived thread in the history of LibraryThing if this keeps up.
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.. am I right about that?

.

Agreed.

The spaceship detonated it's Thermo-Neutronic planet blaster and all was void.

The End.

This thread is blocking my view of Venus. Where is my Illudium PU-36 Explosive Space Modulator?

Rats! LT now filters HTML tags so I can't break it.

The End.

Fin.

No really, I mean it, it's over.

Go home, there's nothing to see here.

Nada.

Buh-bye now!

You still there?

I'll just give my opinion. The thread will instantly die. My opinion is that the thread is now annoying...

Which is why no one is willing to let it die the death it so richly deserves...

;o)

I guess you're right. Sigh.

Here's what the thread needs to be even more annoying:

An angry mime :)

Image Hosted by tripod!

One of these?

A mariachi band WITH DRUMS: :D

Some very hip accordion music...

Is this a gaggle of mariachis? (I now know that mimes congregate in gaggles.)

#88 - those are some angry tripods!

Awful album covers!

#88 is a great illustration! I'd buy that edition just for it.

#94 - Thanks. I really like it. Looks like a pissed off water tower! :o)

#93 - EEGADS!

Is that Rupaul?

# 93 is almost enough to make me pack it in...

#97 - The key word in your sentence being 'almost.'

I decided earlier today to not post in here again, so I'm just telling you about my decision.

Ah, crap. I just did it, didn't I?

OK, cancel that.

Reek, reek, reek, reek


Die, thread, die!

Sincerely,

Mrs. Bates

Oooh, a lot of good art in here.

*looks forward to much, much more*

That's it. Keep looking forward.

ART

Actually, I think this thread is killing LT. *blush

Naw, it's been wonky all week.
:o/

And now and then, I'll include her:

keeping my mouth shut!

If you can't see it am I saying anything?

8p~~~

adding: apparently the font tags are disabled...

I'm gonna be scarce for the next couple of days as I
will be travelling but I fully expect this thread to have
increased exponentially when I check back! Adieu for now....

A doo, for now.

I can't believe I keep getting sucked back in here! And for What? Carrot Top? Where's littlegeek when I need her?

Die, Thread, Die!

No, Mr. Thread, I want you to Die!

wow - the things I miss when I don't visit LT on the weekend.

#122 It's sort of gotten like a Saturday Night Live skit, hasn't it, angelikat?

You know the kind... they start out GREAT... but...

;) to all of us.

I couldn't agree more JPB, unless it is the cowbell skit -
I have a fever and the only prescription is more cowbell.
That line never gets old :)

Damn, I take a weekend off, and you guys go ballistic.

Ok, time to kill this thing.
Where's the switch?
**************
Really, where's the damn switch!
***************
Folks, I AM NOT KIDDING HERE! WHERE IS THE EFFING SWITCH?

....................................

Am I going to have to get nasty? Cuz, I really don't want anyone hurt. Just show me where the switch is, and we can be done.

Guys...come on..where's the off switch?

Sigh.

****************************

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Asystole.

Open the pod bay doors, HAL.

I'm sorry Dave...

This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.

OPEN THE POD BAY DOORS, HAL!

I know you and Frank were planning to disconnect me, and I'm afraid that's something I can not allow to happen.

daisy, daisy..............

beep...beep...beep...beep...beep

Nothing kills threads like a poem written by a 17 year old, especially if it is a political protest! Here goes:

Remember, Remember, the 10th of September
By Jacob Martin

Remember, Remember, the 10th of September
Before the Terrorist Plot
The world was a much more certain place,
A peace that’s now forgot,
It was a happy time indeed,
Before the Climate of Fear,
Before the paranoia
Whispered in our ears,
The day before September 11th
Was rather ordinary,
There was nothing to be afraid of,
No need to be wary,
The “Axis of Evil” was unknown,
We didn’t need to fear,
Saddam, Osama, in Australia,
We simply had a beer,
And talked to our neighbours,
With sausages on the Barbie,
We even invited them over,
Now it just sounds Barmy!
We used to trust our Middle Eastern,
Allah-serving friends,
But now the bond is broken,
It’s hard to make amends
When John Howard and George Bush
Marched our troops to war,
They said it was to kick
Saddam out the Door
But we soon found out,
That this so called “Democracy”
That was heralded as Freedom
Was just sheer hypocrisy!
The war was for Oil,
The Pollies won’t admit it
But even though they’ll lose the war,
They just don’t want to quit it,
So committed and defending
Of a evil, twisted lie,
They continue to fight for “Freedom”,
Though many men will die,
If you don’t agree with them,
They accuse you of dissent
And pack you off to Guantanamo Bay
By Act of Government
What kind of “Freedom” is this?
Not the sort I like,
We should tell these war-mongering fools
To get back on their bikes,
These kinds of people,
Have no right to run a country,
Or even a hot dog stand
They’d burn the food too crunchy!

Australia deserves leaders
Both noble and true,
The kind that fight for justice
That stick their neck out for you!
We won’t see that just yet,
The fight it isn’t over,
But please, Australians, don’t give up,
Cook up some nice Pavlova!
And don’t be afraid,
To stick up for your friends,
When times are tough your Mates
Are with you to the End
Always remember,
The day before the fear,
Before the Towers collapsed,
It was a lovely year
It was a peaceful time
And it will come again,
Even though these politicians
Drive you round the bend!

* * * * *
Now for the killing blow! A poem about how Studying is like Scandinavian Death Metal... by ME!

Studying is Brutal
By Jacob Martin

Studying is Brutal
Studying is Hard
Do it for too long
And you’re emotionally scarred
Studying is Grim
Like the Forests of Norway
Those who are weak
Go straight out the doorway
But what is most Brutal
Most Metal of all
Is how Study makes your Brain
Into its thrall
Your mind aches in pain
As you read your set texts
And you start to break down
To forget all the rest
Of the hard earned knowledge
That was put there before
“That’s It!”, you cry,
“I can’t take it no more!”
But eventually, as you find
Quotes obscure and “kvlt”
Your marks start to rise
To a very good result
But in my honest opinion
Studying is rather lame
Study is not Metal’s dominion
Not a Frostbitten kind of Game
But in the end, when you’ve tired
Your protesting, hoarse voice
Study is simply something required
It’s not like you have a choice…

* * * * *
Consider this Thread *dead*!

TeenAuthor, those poems almost made me give up ... but, the thing is, I need to kill this thread myself.
Clam started me on a mission and I won't give up. I won't rest until this sucker is on its back with its legs in the air.

*thinks*

Maybe these two will team up to kill it:

This should do it.

I'm not clickin', darrow...
;o)

Oh yeah? Here's a whole nother poem that will murder this thread like a pair of scissors:

Emo in Black
By Jacob Martin

There’s a poster on the wall
Of an Angst-ridden Band
Their concert tickets
Are in High Demand
But why do they yell,
Why do they scream?
Is a pleasant reality
all but a Dream?

There’s a Young Lady on the Steps
Who Seems to be Sad
Drinking her Schweppes
She gets rather mad
Her boyfriend’s fringe
Hangs down his face
Most people would cringe
At this horrid disgrace!

But Emo is here,
And it’s here to stay,
But give it six months,
And it’ll go away

It’s a Transient Culture,
This Emo Sorrow
Here today,
Gone tomorrow,
One cannot live
On misery alone
So give the old dog
A nice juicy bone!

The Black Dog of Depression
That plagues teenagers
Is a problem today;
It gives them such rages.
They hit their parents, and yell at them too,
Good children don’t do that,
I wouldn’t, would you?

Their music is angry,
And far too loud
But what is their reason,
To form such big crowds
To hear such musicians
That whimper and cry
And have quite sad lyrics
That make you want to die?

Rock Music has come
A very long way
But this new Emo Sound
Fills me with dismay!

What happened to Punk?
Where is the Grunge?
Emo is Bunk,
A cultural sponge,
That steals its components
From other Youth Cultures
Its dire adherents
No better than Vultures
Picking the bones of movements long dead
And putting the scraps
In their little heads!

We need a new movement
To show us the way
One that has tenets
Of Goodwill, I say!

One that brings Hope
Into the World
To happy young boys
And cheery young girls
And the Old can give Wisdom
To we that are small
Their lessons attended,
For the well being of all

But as this Rhyme
Comes to a close
Remember the Time
That everyone knows
The time for a change,
The 20th Century
The past seems strange,
But that’s how it’s meant to be.

* * * * *

And here's another one that's terrible:

Eulogy to the 1990s
By Jacob Martin

Decade that saw me born,
I am thankful to thee,
You gave me the best Childhood that you could give.
You gave my generation much more
Than Pokemon and DragonBall Z,
There was more to you, O Decade,
Than that, and that’s for sure.
You gave Generation X Nirvana,
And you gave us the Goth movement,
(How I miss those beautiful people)
As well as Captain Planet, the Yo-Yo revival,
Jurassic Park, among other things,
Rwanda’s agonies were felt within you, O Decade of the 90s,
Salman Rushdie went into hiding
And you propelled him into fame
The Titanic sank within you, The Matrix heralded your end,
And Superman died, but Returned in your arms…

What a marvelous Decade you were, O 1990s,
I will always remember you, when others fail to.

* * * * *

And another!

We Miss You Pluto
By Jacob Martin

You’ll always be a Planet to me
Even though the Astronomers just can’t see
That being a Planet is more than Size
“Dwarf Planet” my arse,
Why can’t they recognise
That you mean something to us all
When we look up through the glass
Of a Telescope, wonder fills our eyes
At your majesty, even though you’re small
Your imagination never dies!

You’ll always be a Planet to me…

* * * * *

And an uppercut of verse!:

Beast of Bunion
By Jacob Martin

That dread ache on the sole of your feet
That agony as you walk
That awful discomfort, in your shoes
It’s not the finest thing, to talk
about to your friends, no it’s not
They don’t want to hear about your feet, that rot
In the Pits of Hellish Torment
That only Podiatry can save you from
It’s about time somebody wrote a poem,
About this dire annoyance
Instead of another one about meadows
Feet are part of the Human sphere of things
However underrated as appendages
You couldn’t do without them
So as I write this, if you are not scorned
By the Beast of Bunion,
Be grateful about
What you have
And never complain
Ever again
I end this poem
On a high note
‘Tis the best discourse on feet
I have wrote
In several years
Or even at all
Remember your feet
Big or small
They’re part of you
from heel to the ball.

* * * * *

And Another!:

What do you know about D&D?
By Jacob Martin

What do you know about D&D?
The Role Playing Game for You and Me
Long before Everquest,
World of Warcraft, Runescape
Computer Games and CGI frames
D&D was before them all,
Back when Pac-Man was King
Of Video, there was Pen and Paper,
That ruled the day, with imagination,
People said it was the Devil’s work
But we the true defenders rose,
Mighty heroes, to slay the Dragon
Of Doubt and Censorship
You think these days banning
A video game is bad?
D&D players were outcasts then
It really makes me mad
That the media can spread fear
Into people’s hearts, so
Easily and quick, without
Understanding what the Game
Really was, simply casting blame
For a world gone mad!
But we showed them, we proved
We were not servants of Satan
We simply wanted to have fun
Without the hassle of those
Pitiful fools who spoiled it!
But now, the battle is nearly won
Acceptance of our gaming kin
Soon will prevail
Over dark ignorance
That nearly ruined the joy
We earned our 20-Sided dice
To use them at our will,
And now we play on,
The quest continues…

* * * * *

Final Knockout!:

Memories of Star Wars (Pre-1999)
By Jacob Martin

Star Wars used to be an epic for the People
But now George Lucas lost his way…
Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones,
Revenge of the Sith only mildly better
Than the trash prequels that preceded it
Why George did you forsake the love
That your Fans gave you?
For the love of money, and wealth
Alec Guinness was the One True Obi-Wan
Kenobi, He will sorely be missed,
A fallen Hero of a Modern Myth
Before the Prequels soiled its worth
Like piling dung on top of treasures
Star Wars used to be good, and pure
But now Lucas has lost his way…

* * * * *

It's a Thread-Kill!

It's safe, clam ... honest.

Time to clean up the mess

Just awesome. I think you've won, darrow!
:o)

Yup! That's it. Congrats Darrow - that's too clever. :)

*blushes*

cool!

This thread still seems to be suffering a bit of health though...

The evil IT department has blocked the link - I can't tell what the murderous thingy was!

it was a Snuffalufagus ;)

#145 Still works for me. Try the earlier one at #137. It's not so heavy on your PCs processor.

Nope, sorry darrow, your murderous thingy will have to wait until I go home to be gazed upon by me. IT thinks the page is to unsafe for my sensitive eyeballs.

Anyone who likes to eat castor oil, peanut butter, mayo, ham, and ice cream sandwiches please write something after this post.

yum.

So sorry, you wanna-bes.
;o)
PeaBee and I have declared Darrow the WINNER.
:o)

you also declared Atomicmutant one earlier as well 8p~~~~~~

True...

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Just as long as PB does not post Carrot Top again....(I'm trying MrsLee)

MIght I suggest one of these worthy redheads?

The first three are perfectly satisfactory, but the last??? Kinda scary. However, your efforts are noted and appreciated. ;)

hmmm....my Prince Harry seems to have been yanked. hahaha

The one I believe you're scared of MrsLee is Ginger Baker. Great drummer. He does look a bit psychotic in that pic, tho.

Thomas Jefferson & Sean White did not appear for me....oh well, that's what I get for hotlinking!

Is this thread Better Redhead than Dead?

Or better Deadhead than Redhead?

Who's creepier? Jerry Garcia or Ginger Baker?

My vote's on Jerry. He's responsible for so many dirty hippies in my town trying to sell me tiedye and beads. And really bad thunderdrumming.

You know the old joke right? What did the Deadheads say when the drugs ran out?

"Hey, this music sucks."

OK, have at me, Deadheads!

Consider a stone tossed in your general direction.

Personally I think Garcia is one of the best guitarist around. er...formerly around. I said FORMERLY! I KNOW he is dead. I really do.

Anyone who styles himself after John Coltrane and Les Paul has to be doing something right.

snnnnnnnn.....(sorry, someone was playing the dead and I fell asleep) what were you saying?

Garcia resembles Coltrane and Les Paul not at all to my mind.

To each his own.

hmmmmm

guitar wars....not winable

Is it dead yet?
;o)

It is for me. Just loading this thread, my wife shouted "My video feed froze up! Are you working on the house network?"

Enough's enough... ;)

Party pooper!

{;^p~~~~~~~~

We're just getting started!

well at least there are no more photos of carrot top

# 166 - Hmmm! I wonder which one of these covers came first.

KILL THIS POST WITH YOUR THREAD!!!!

a video of gratuitous death and destruction!

#174 - Nice soundtrack...
:o)

POST THIS THREAD WITH YOUR KILL!



Taxidermy is really weird.

Littlegeek! Oh man. Looks like they used hair spray on that mane...

:oO

#173 - My husband looked at me strangely for laughing at that post.

That said...

Moo.

Mu

the posts are slowly spreading out...

Boo Hoo.

Good grief! I thought this was finally DEAD!!!!

It's so very not...

Not that I've made a contribution to threading this kill with my post...uh...posting my kill with this...killing my postman with... whatever. Maybe I'll do it first time.

*hic*

not dead yet...

Maybe it's just that it hasn't NOTICED that it's dead.

Let's tell it.

;o)

Problem is it's not dead until no one notices it's not alive. Paradox...

Too true.
;o)

Great thread.

I read everything.

More, please!

According to "Your Posts", I killed 13 threads between January and August this year. Maybe the jinx will work again.

#192 - Ha! Fat chance. Now it's a fight to the DEATH! (of the thread, that is...)

# 178 - moo moo

It'll die if you just take those jumper cables off.......

This has got to die soon...

I think I'm feeling better...

I think we have enough competitive types in here that this sucker is never going to die a natural death.

As this thread approaches Message 200, it begins to remind me of a Victorian-era love song. You know,
the type that had women singing "kill me, and kill me again."

(For those of you who didn't know, during that prudish era, 'kill' was the code word for sex.)

After much hard work, I have managed to insert some Java code into this post.
If you return here, it will delete your "My Documents" folder.

Don't believe me, do you?
ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE THE RISK? Better back up your files first.

*sings*
Killing me softly with his song....

#198 I always thought it was a uphemism for orgasm, not just sex. As in "I'm dying" = "I'm coming."

Now we'll never kill this thread.

It's alive, it's ALIVE! Bwahahahah!

maybe it is time to have a saucey puppet show with Freud

Oh yes, and sauces...

...

ohhh forgot about these saucey puppets....

Is it dead yet?

*looks around*

Its dead, Jim! Take his wallet.

Dammit Arctic, your a minister DJ not a doctor!

Ok, sorry.
Here's your wallet back.

Has anyone seen the penis puppet guys? It is just ridiculous, or actually good?

It is.... different looks very, very painfull (and I am a girl!) but they don't seem to mind. Before I saw it I had no clue those bits were so stretchy, but it is good in a sort of strange oggly sort of way.

Hmmm. For some reason it doesn't sound too inviting. Kind of like watching some not so close friend's birthing video.
*gag*
Once this guy I worked with, but didn't know well, passed around piccies of his son's birth, including the crowning. LOL
One of my friends yelled out, I've never even seen your wife's face, and you're showing me pictures of her CROTCH??!!!

People who spawn lose all perspective sometimes, don't they?

Yup.
:o)

"... is a little like watching a wet St. Bernard coming in through the cat door. ..."

*sigh*
It was dead for 38 hours and 17 minutes.

I wanted to get my timing right...

;)

Did you cast a reanimating spell?
Or zap it in the electrodes with lightning?
;oP~

Oh dear! You got snagged!
:o)

I'm not sure what you are seeing, but this is what I see.

Very strange I see the pic I posted, I'll try to fix it...

You see it because it's in your browser's cache.
We don't see it because that site has disallowed hotlinking, You'll have to find another source or uploaded to another location that will let you link to it remotely.

is that better?

Yup.

peeks into thread *whispers* is it dead yet?

K just thought I'd check...

I thought this would be dead by now.
murder death kill

Blame readafew.
;o)

code 1-8-7

How come I have this urge to knit?

I always have a urge to knit.

>225 readafew:

I've got it now!

It's only *mostly* dead.

hmmmm....

methinks only Tim could kill this thread. One LTHING wand in his hand, preservation of sanity (kind of) in the other.

whoosh. bang. pop.

dead as a doorknob.

hmm? are doorknobs really dead?

"toooo every season, turn, turn, turn..."

or how about this one???

*cackle*

"This is the THREAD that neverrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ends...."

or, you could just throw in a little wicked witch and shriek,"I'm melting, melllllllllllllllllllllltingggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

readafew, I see two tiny red X-es...

#234 and #235 - You are both only too correct!

I don't have time now to fix it you'll all have to wait until I get back. ha!

Okay.

I always suspected Dumbledore was gay. Yay, I was right! (this post has worked before....)

I have long suspected that people were NEVER meant to mate for life. (this could work, too.)

240>

I have long suspected that nothing kills threads like my bad poetry:

Dumbledore was Gay? Hooray!
By Jacob Martin

Why did Rowling hide the truth?
And not put it in Book Seven,
If we knew Dumbledore was Gay
before, it would be delightful
If that camp old Wiz came out of the closet
That housed the Boggart
What would the other Wizards think?
They’d probably send him to a shrink!
Snape would have been as shocked
As we were, McGonagall would have fainted
Dumbledore could have painted
The town pink, or rainbow,
He wasn’t that sort of Gay chap though
Not an overt flaming queen
How could we not have seen
The subtle hints
Back when reading Harry Potter
And the Half-Blood Prince?

But why did Rowling tell us this?
Does she just want the attention?
Even CNN
Gave the story a mention!
I suppose though, Rowling’s made a point
That Dumbledore’s sexuality
Was not meant to be a major plot twist
Or useless generality
Perhaps, we wonder
What might have been, O!
What a Gay time it would be
If only Dumbledore had told
That sniveling Thatcher-like scold
Of a Headmistress, the vile Umbridge
Imagine the administrational carnage
If Albus had his way!

Hogwarts would have a Mardi Gras
And everybody would carry banners
(in a limp wristed manner)
But I dare say the Ministry of Magic
Hardly would approve
They’d probably step in the first minute
To have the Rainbow Flags removed
Poor Albus would have to explain
To them his romantic pains
For Grindlewald in the old days
What would the other Wizards say?

But Rowling had a choice to make
Instead of giving Rita Skeeter
Muck to rake

She could have made the ending neater
And included it in the Seventh Book
For all the fans to have a look
Not that the Epilogue was bad
In fact it made me rather sad
That no more Harry Potter books will be
Written now for you and me
And now we sit and wonder,
Is this new revelation a blunder?
Can we accept this new Dumbledore,
For all his strengths, and all his flaws?

Mmm, sugar skulls. I love an excuse to eat nothing but sugar.

*whispers* Did I do it? Is it dead yet?

...........................................................................................................................................................................................

??????????????????????????????????????????????

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

***************************************************************************

8642190851759018956981

HTML ERROR

Yes, my life is so pathetic that I'm posting just to keep the thread heading towards its not-so-inevitable demise.

It's only slightly better than dealing with the copious amounts of snot oozing out of my nostrils at inopportune moments (usually when a tissue box is not convenient).

Shoot me now, please.

If we shoot you, then you would be dead and not the thread...

Exvivre, maybe you need a tissue box this size:

#250 - What did you delete? I need to know!

I bet it will just 'kill' you not knowing...

;)

I think I know how to kill this thread but I will need your help.
Due to coding limitations, the maximum number of posts that can be in a thread is 2^16, which is 65536 ... so get posting everyone!!

Only 65,283 to go.

65282 left

I'd love it, but I think that Kleenex box contains free radicals. ;)

#255 - Am I the only one who thinks that guy looks like an alien?

Avogadro was so very NOT a stud muffin.

1/0

Now witness the firepower of this fully ARMED and OPERATIONAL battle station!

65274 to go

65273

Knock, Knock.

I'll bite...

Who's there?

65270

8675309

Actually, I doubt Tim uses a 16 bit integer for post count. You have to work at it these days to use a 'short' integer like that.

I would imagine it is at least 32 bits, and that it was not made unsigned, cuz doing that would take work too, so the thread count can go to: 2,147,483,647.

Get posting, everyone.

;)

2147483378

2147483377

2147483376

2147483375

2147483374 sigh...

Lion.

Ostrich.

I was gonna say "swordfish", but bazling beat me to it.

*suck*

Aaargh! Zombie thread!

Necromancy strikes again!!

Human zombies eat brains, what do zombie threads eat? Cotton? Moderators? Roombas?

#281 - Cheese.

2147483364...

2147483363

2147483362

2,147,483,360

Two things:

1) The amazing thing is, Bill Gates has something like 15x the number of dollars as the amount posted in Clam's note #287

2) Every time I read the topic title of this thread, I think of the song Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport:

CHORUS:
Kill this thread with your post, sport
Kill this thread with your post
Kill this thread with your post, sport
Kill this thread with your post

Paste in a giant J-peg, Meg
Paste in a giant J-peg
Paste in a giant J-peg, Meg
Paste in a giant J-Peg

(CHORUS)

Type in some random digits, Fritz
Type in some random digits
Type in some random digits, Fritz
Type in some random digits

(CHORUS)

Give us some bad poetry, Lee
Give us some bad poetry
Give us some bad poetry, Lee
Give us some bad poetry

(CHORUS)

This stupid thread will not die, Guy
This stupid thread will not die
This stupid thread will not die, Guy
This stupid thread will not die

(CHORUS)

#286 - Very good stuff, flee. That is my cat, until the baseball bat part, anyway.
;o)

#288 - Great. Another brain worm. ;o)

#290 uh-huh. :)

May I just suggest that you DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT ever do a Google images search for 'brain worm.'

*gag-gag-gag*

2,147,483,354

This is going to take awhile. I'll take your word for it, mental note DO NOT search google images for 'brain worm"

2,147,483,353

This is a macabre poem I composed in the style of a poem in the Now We Are Sick vein, and since this is a thread about killing a thread,
a bad poem about the variety of ways one can kill is fitting for the occasion! Enjoy the twistedness!

* * * * *

Macabre Poem
By Jacob Martin

1.

My chainsaw slices
Through your neck, dripping with blood
Dices your neck
Your head lands with a thud!

2.

I make you blind
As I gouge out your eyes
I’m going to grind
Them into a pie!

3.

Drowning is suffering
You die as your lungs
Are aching and filling
With death, swallowed tongue!

4.

You I will kill
With my big knife
Stabbing is a thrill
I now end your life!

5.

My sharks have sharp teeth
As they eat you alive
In my indoor coral reef
They grow and they thrive!

6.

Flaying you alive, is quite the task
Rending your skin
It is rather cruel for me
To stick my knife in!

7.

Burning you with acid
As your flesh sizzles
I laugh at you
It gives me the giggles!

8.

Beating you to
A bloody pulp with chains
Oh I truly love it
I eat your remains!

9.

How can I kill you?
Let me count the ways!
Nine if I torch you
So far you’re ablaze!

10.

Running out of ways to kill you
I’m turning to despair…
What if I feed you
To a hungry mother bear!

11.

Lethal Injection
Not painful in the least
Now I don’t seem like a
Monstrous beast!

12.

Almost done now
I’m on my way
With an axe in my hands
So you, I can slay!

13.

Thirteen ways to kill you
It’s been real fun
Shame you won’t survive
My sawn-off shotgun!

#295 :O

Remind me not to live down the hall from you!

LOL.

2,147,483,351

Your a strange little man...

Battle of attrition, who it the most stubborn!

This is another (albeit nicer) poem in the Confessional School of poetry that I wrote after I realised that
a certain girl I knew would not reciprocate my feelings for her because she was a gay woman...
It's almost funny in a way, and I can at least laugh at this autobiographical poem of mine.

* * * * *

I Fell in Love with a Lesbian
By Jacob Martin

I fell in love with a lesbian
Didn’t know she was gay at the time
She said she wanted to stay friends, yet again
Is fulfillment of my heart a crime?

So many girls rejected me
But her honesty took the cake
Sure, it was never meant to be
But for friendship’s sake

She told me rather frankly
She wasn’t lying either:
“I already have a girlfriend”, bluntly
I knew she was no teaser

One day I’ll look back and laugh
With my mates upon the matter
I suppose I looked rather daft
As I put my heart on a platter

If I do this will the thread die?

More bad poetry to kill this thread, even longer than the Macabre Poem:
This one's about being a Poet...

* * * * *

A Poet’s Lot
By Jacob Martin

A Poet’s Lot is burning bright
from the midnight oil
(not the band of course)
Arranging word pictures, nocturnal metaphors

And in the day, you wake
“At the Crack of Noon” as Jack Black
once stated, on the matter
of the creative, more than just talent

You want to be a Poet?
Perhaps it is a good idea,
the art sure isn’t dead
But Barthes says the Author is

You don’t do it for the money
pouring out your life
onto storebought paper
or anything you can find

Perhaps you can pluck
a conceit, that is akin
to a half dreamed, half eaten
donut from your head?

Or maybe you have demons inside you
that no priest can drive out?
Those are the deepest, darkest
sort of infernal fiends of memories

Perhaps you like to rhyme
As you write about the times
Not just the present, also
ghosts of the past, even more-so

Than writing poems about
the distant future, what might
and may your life be like
in ten, twenty years?

Poetry can be joy or tears

It can be the best
It can be the worst
Of you, and the world,
you think, you KNOW must hear it

O, here you go, penning
A mournful happy Ode
to the thing that means
the most, to you, to all

You show your work to
your uncaring siblings
If you have any, but deep down,
they know, they understand

Love, Hate
Life, Death
Poverty or Wealth
You can write it all down

In your mind you wear a crown.

Do you do spoken word?
or is your voice unheard
of? Too shy to read in
Cafes? It don’t matter

To be a Poet is brave enough
when you speak the truths
no-one dares but whisper
or mutter in hushed tones

Making Art with language
No excess baggage
or regrets about what you do
your words make you

They say words don’t mean
a thing, but in this business
these utterances, in their
immortal beauty, are like diamonds.

You still want to do it?

2,147,483,347

299 > I seriously thought about doing that, myself, it will probably weed out quit a few...

8)

I wrote this poem when I was 12.

***

Picture if you can, a bunny
Lying in the road
From what I see
I think he's been mowed.

But as he rises from his bed,
A bullet whistles through his head,
And when I look upon the floor
I see that it is covered with gore.

Working with Macabre poetry at 12?

That's as disturbing as it is awesome...

I mean, I though you would pull out (depending on your age generation) some Emo poem,
but that's quality right there, Right... THERE!

Here's a poem I wrote about a Chicken, hope I made it at least as good as yours, darrow:

* * * * *

Chicken in the Town Square
By Jacob Martin

I.

There was a Chicken
In the Town Square
And nobody seemed to care
That the Chicken was standing there

There was a Chicken, in the Town Square!

II.

Standing there for five hours
With nary even a shower
But they forgot the people power
Of the Chicken in the Town Square

That Chicken in the Town Square!

III.

There was rain in the streets
And in the misty heat
The Chicken found a treat,
To eat, in the Town Square

That Chicken, in the Town Square!

IV.

He found a worm crawling
On the ground, it was appalling
In the city that was sprawling
Dined a Chicken in the Town Square

That lucky Chicken, in the Town Square!

V.

Perhaps it would be sad to tell
You what abysmal events befell
That Chicken, in urban hell
That Chicken in the Town Square

That Chicken in the Town Square!

VI.

Up the road there was a criminal
In his mind there were subliminal
Messages, the kind paranormal
Against this Chicken in the Town Square

There used to be a Chicken in the Town Square…

VII.

That Chicken died last night
The criminal gave it a fright
The Chicken lost the fight
Shot dead, in the Town Square

Dead Chicken in the Town Square!

VIII. (Epilogue)

Remember that Chicken in the Town Square
Remember it was THERE,
Its death was so unfair
Mourn its passing with hands in the air!

* * * * *

And here's another one about a Python (inspired by William Blake)

* * * * *

Python
By Jacob Martin

I.

Python, what serpentine fury
Marks thine eyes?
Your prey in your brutal grip
Chokes and dies!

What strange strength
In your body lies,
Your beauty, that
The world denies!

II.

Python, you noble beast of fears
Your yellow eyes, slits, shed no tears

Merciless throughout the years,
Even though the ground’s your ears!

We need Gandalf!

YOU.. SHALL... NOT..... POST!

Many threads that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?

So...among you all, one of you holds the gift of death in your hands. You must use it wisely.

This thread cannot live. We cannot allow it.

Death is our gift? Someone's been watching too much Buffy. :) Maybe it's me...

*-(
Killed me there...

We need help from Metallica on this one, here's a quote from Creeping Death which is on their
"Ride the Lightning" album:

"DIE... BY MY HAND
I CREEP ACROSS THE LAND...
KILLING FIRST BORN MAN..."

Substitute "Man" with "Thread" and we should have this sorted by midnight.

OOooohhh....
I can feel it in my bones...

seeiwasgoingtodomybitforlettingthebeastgowithsomeshredsofdignity&actuallyduhduhduhNOTpostbutyouseethelinkbacktothemainpagehasgivenupindisgustandIaccidentallypressedthepostbuttonsohereIamwritinganincrediblydullstringofwordssimplytoannoysomeoneeventhoughIdontreallythinkthatitwillbeveryaffectivebecausepeopleinherearenoteasilyboredandhaveatendencytojustkeepgoingratherthandothesortofthingthattheyoughttobelikeforexampleworkingwhichiswhatIshouldbedoingbutdontreallywanttobecausemyinspirationisseverelylackingandwritinganysortofsensiblediscussionofancienthistorianswithoutenthusiasmisonlygoingtomakemysupervisorcrosswithmeontheotherhandIwillhavetodosomethingsoonbecauseIfearIwillnevereverevergetacrossthepagenotthatitmatterssincenoonewillbebotheredtoevenreadthisfarIcertainlywouldntexceptmaybeforthechallengeofthesillinessofreadingwhatmightotherwiseappeartobesomeoneveryboredtypingwithoutanyrhymeorreasonhoweversincethepostisnotyetatanendandthethreadisnotdeadnorlikelytobeanytimeIguessImustadmitmydefeatandrealisethatIhavenopersonalchanceupagainstthemaestrosofmassivepicturesanddirepoetrywhichincidentalllyremindsmeofafriendwhospecialisesinagothiccheesehalloweenpoetrycompetitioninaidofcharityIwoulpostthelinkbutIcantrememberitandwillhavetogoandsearchforitareyoufedupyetIamnearlyhalfwayacrossthewindowanddefinitelyrunningoutofsteamshouldIgiveupandadmitmydefeatsomewhatlikethisthreadanditsinhabitantsokthisisitIamstoppingrightherebecauseIreallyneedtogoandmakemyselfsomecoffeeandpossiblygetsomecheesecheddarmaybeorscottishbriecontradictorythoughthatsoundsitcameviaafriendfromthegreatbritishcheesefestivalaneventIamfairlysurealotofpeopleherewouldreallyenjoyohgoshdidntIsayIwasstoppingthisendeavourandsoIam.

2,147,483,334

At this rate is should die around the next millennium...

Nightshade? belladonna? what plant is that? ;)

* reveals lack of 'herb lore' *

*reveals plant geekiness*

That's Bittersweet nightshade if I'm not off my mark. But don't worry, it's only mostly deadly. ;)
If we were birds, we'd be fine.

So this thread seems to be a bird...

Call that a spider? THIS is a spider (or maybe 2 spiders)

Whoa! Those are spiders? I love spiders, but I think even I'd run from those...

That is Just Not Right!

It was the potency of the venom I was posting it for, not its size, darrow.
;o)

Potency be damned - that's still a freakin' scary spider-pair. *shudders and closes the window and door* You'd think I'd be used to them living in the country with the deadliest just about everything. I'm a city boy.

They look like crabs, to me. Are they edible? ;o)

Spider-Pair, Spider-Pair,
Clings together like no-one cares
Are they dead, or alive?
Better get out the scraping knife
Look out! Here comes the Spider-Pair!

Clam, the extra legs make me think spider. That doesn't make them inedible though.
I shouldn't post while I'm hungry. I'm thinking of sauteed spider legs in a spicy sauce. Maybe satay?

Maybe if enough Spam posts get put on this thread it will be closed down and killed forever, I've seen it happen before...

(NOTE TO LT ADMINS: THE FOLLOWING SPAM IS MEANT FOR THREAD KILLING PURPOSES ONLY. IT IS NOT ADVERTISING MY BOOKS)

http://www.lulu.com/content/1362369

The Unwritten Book: A masterpiece of a Postmodern Headache, available now from Lulu.com!

#295 bwahaha I loved it. Reminded me a bit of Tim Burton's World of Stainboy and that Dorothy Parker poem...

Errrr... I've killed posts before, I'm actually an experienced post-killer, let's see if it works this time... =/

330>
At least somebody liked it...

I would die of fright if I saw those spiders running loose. It wouldn't matter if the thread died...

#321 The big spiders are called camel spiders. There is a website dedicated to them. http://www.camelspiders.net/

Here's an illustration from my book that I wrote (still not published as it is unfinished in editing) that
will make you tremble in its cartoony horror!

My character from my book fights an Emomancer in this epic Graphic novel style page...

2,147,483,313,

apparently they aren't spiders they are solpugids which are a different branch of the Arachnida class. Having 10 legs seems to be a trait.

*whistles while strolling through*

Gack! *glares angrily, yet somehow smiling*
50s TV announcer voice: Will this abomination never die? Will the Green Dragon ever disentangle itself from such an insidious thread? Or will the threat of deletion forever hang over the denizens of our most beloved pub?

Almost! darn you Clam! I've got the record about 5 days! Maybe I need to be even more pedantic...

}:o)

2,147,483,307
THAT is slightly irritating, but an excellent go at killing the tread.

Good attempt there, JPB... but no luck. ;)

*clears his throat*

"Don't break my heart... my achy breaky heart... I just don't think it's understand... wooh!"

here's a link to distract people away from here, kind of funny...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2KeF3qteDw

classic example of furniture disease...

Still ticking.

Long-lasting Energizer thread, it keeps going

and going

and going

and going

and going

and going

and going

and going

and going

and going

and going

and going

Oh and nice TRY, PeaBee.
;o)

Almost.

I was planning on checking today, Arctic beat me to it.

Now, if only he would edit that post...

This thread is so powerful, we need TWO Deaths to defeat it!

Ah, but they're both so cute!

slowly.......... dying......................

CLEAR! **zap!!!**

beep, beep, beep, beep, beep...

Bwa haa haa!

Flatline!

(not)

Mary had a little lamb,
the butcher killed it dead,
Now she brings her lamb to school,
between two hunks of bread!

A birdie with a yellow bill,
Hopped upon my window sill.
I lured it in with crumbs of bread,
And slammed the window on its head.

Mary had a little lamb,
The doctor was surprised.
But when MacDonald had a farm
He couldn't believe his eyes!

360 con't

The moral of the story is clear...
if you want some head you need some bread!

next

Old mother Hubbard
went to the cupboard
to fetch her dog a bone

but when she bent over
the doggie took over
and gave her a bone of his own!

There once was a man from Nantucket,
Whose....

never-mind...

There once was a man named Enis...

*Let's not go there*

Anyway, clam, how did you figure out how to type with italics in posts? I need to know!

tag is the same as html - {i}{/i} but with triangle brackets.

2,147,483,285

364 > Try this

*sings to this thread*

Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you

The thunder roared
The lightening flashed
A tree fell
A frog was smashed.

Did the tree make a sound? Or just the frog?

I went to the theatre tomorrow
And took a front seat at the back
I fell from the stalls to the gallery
And broke a front bone in my back

One fine day, in the middle of the night
The Pacific ocean caught alight
The blind man saw it
The deaf man heard it
The dumb man called the fire brigade

The red fire engine (painted bright pink)
raced 'round the corner at nought miles an hour
Ran over a dead cat and half killed it
And it got there five minutes before the fire started.

The lim'rick packs laughs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical,

But the good ones I've seen
So seldom are clean,

And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

-anonymous

Maybe this will clear out the thread.

Awwwwww, but it's so cute!

And besides, the tail's facing away, which means I'm safe(-ish). ;)

You asked for it...

"You know, most men would get discouraged about now… fortunately for her, I am not most men"

-Pepe Le Pew

8)

Looks dead to me..but I`m no doctor

Dead Skunk
( Loudon Wainwright III )

Crossin' the highway late last night
He shoulda looked left and he shoulda looked right
He didn't see the station wagon car
The skunk got squashed and there you are!

You got yer
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
You got yer dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high Heaven!

Take a whiff on me, that ain't no rose!
Roll up yer window and hold yer nose
You don't have to look and you don't have to see
'Cause you can feel it in your olfactory

You got yer
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
You got yer dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high Heaven!

Yeah you got yer dead cat and you got yer dead dog
On a moonlight night you got yer dead toad frog
Got yer dead rabbit and yer dead raccoon
The blood and the guts they're gonna make you swoon!
You got yer
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
You got yer dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high Heaven!

C'mon stink!

You got it!
It's dead, it's in the middle
Dead skunk in the middle!
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high heaven!
All over the road, technicolor man!
Oh, you got pollution
It's dead, it's in the middle
And it's stinkin' to high, high Heaven!

(let me know if the pic doesn't show up)

It doesn't show up.

darnit! Well I'm not saving a copy to my flickr accout.

Here's a link instead!

http://i.pbase.com/g6/29/553829/2/82472737.GFeDnTZx.jpg

Nice. It says:

Forbidden
You don't have permission to access /g6/29/553829/2/82472737.GFeDnTZx.jpg on this server.



Can you just describe it for us?
;o)

Son-ov-a-

one last time
http://www.pbase.com/image/82472737

and if it don't work...
It's just a dead skunk in the middle of the road

ICK!

sigh...

Dead Skunk, dead Turkey, I dont care what it is, I am stuff and cannot eat anymore!

Is it dead yet? Just askin....

Well I thought it was jillmwo but now I see that it was merely catatonic. Next time you look, check for signs of putrefaction.

None yet.

The thread doesn't die because of the bizarre tendency for people to post on it, for reasons of both curiosity
and the first stage of grieving a death: denial.

We must accept this thread is dead, as a truth, in order for it to find peace in the next life.

Just don't post. It's that simple.

I dare you not to post. I will set an example by not posting on this thread until posting gets out of hand and I have to step in.

Just don't post. You can do it.

I'm weak. I failed.

We all grieve in a different ways.....

Unlike Generalisso Franco, this thread is still Not Dead.

The rumors of it's death are greatly exaggerated...

it will be "stone dead in a minute"
http://www.mwscomp.com/movies/grail/grail-02.htm

I think I'll go for a walk...

*sings*
I think I'll go for a walk outside now,
the summer sun is callin' my name ...

Huh? What? Not post? I don't know what you mean.

I'll send this post to the fourth dimension.

In a klein bottle

Now that is one weird bottle! Great pic...

This thread reminds me of the eternal party in one of the Dreampark books by Larry Niven and Steven Barnes... But it is good to know that even after my long absence the visitors of the Green Dragon are still as strange as ever ;).

I refuse to kill any beautiful living creature like this thread. I will not kill it because life is life and I cannot murder it. If threads were meat, I would be a vegan.

my posts have killed threads before lets see if it works.

Not a chance, Madcow299. Great nick, by the way.
:o)

2,147,483,246...

Is it possible the thread feeds off light energy? I feel like one of those government scientists from a 1950's sci-fi movies.

It feeds off potential productivity in the workplace...

... and wasted study time. :D

It's... It's a, a Vortex, sucking up time and space in the eather....

2,147,483,242

its not dead yet

Well it will be soon...

Are you sure? I'm not.