Tuesday, November 20, 2007

 

A note on my absence, or Pardon me while I purge

Well, my productivity, such as it is, seems to be falling to its normal holiday level. But I wanted to assure everyone that I am not off my feed. Quite the contrary. I may be suffering from the indolence of the overfed.

Perhaps to prepare me for Thanksgiving, the biggest binge-eating festival of the year, friends and acquaintances have found all sorts of excuses to offer me food. And I have found all sorts of excuses to eat it. Only yesterday I fear I may have personally contributed to the decline of the Atlantic shrimp stocks. I would ask for forgiveness but I don't know whom to ask. It's too late for the shrimp.

Which reminds me of a Lewis Carroll rhyme, which I excerpt here for your dining pleasure—
 

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER

....

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head—
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat—
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more—
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—
Of cabbages—and kings—
And why the sea is boiling hot—
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed—
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf—
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none—
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

The poem seems fraught with allegorical meaning. For instance, in the first two stanzas we may surmise that the Walrus and Carpenter are beachfront developers. Beyond that I'm far too full to say.

Related post
Recipe of the Day (10/8/07)

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Sunday, November 18, 2007

 

Snatches from the Pink Snapper — 2

Felicia owns the malapropism. I ran into her tonight and idly asked how her day had gone—

FELICIA: Oh, it was okay. I went to church this morning.

ME: Anything special happen?

FELICIA: Not really. You know how churches are—the people just like to get together to conjugate.

Felicia holds a special place in my heart. After all, I went around for years telling everyone my tastes were eclectic when what I meant was eccentric.

Previous post
Snatches from the Pink Snapper — 1 (11/12/07)

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