Bone Moats

Thou art to me more sweet 

than a thousand milligrams of synthetic sucrose

thou art to me more noble

than all the defrocked priests in Babylon

thou art to me more normal

than all the split infinities ever to collapse in this world or the next

thou art to me more natural

than  the bible

Sgt. Preston and Anne of Green Gables

Battling their way out of Lord Flogg’s fog in the Londinium Tower, Batman and Alfred, in a cab, and Robin in the Batmobile, head for Ffogg’s estate to rescue Batgirl. Ffogg and Lady Peasoup, discovering their lethal fog pellets are too stale to finish off Batgirl, go for a fresh supply and learn that Batman has entered the grounds. At the dungeon, Ffogg pushes Batman down the steps and throws the fresh gas pellets after him. Robin, meanwhile, has been bitten by a deadly bee, and Lady Peasoup instructs Prudence to take him to the girl’s dorm to die while they all go to the Tower of Londinium. Dispersing the lethal fog with Anti-Lethal Fog Batspray, Batman files away at Batgirl’s chains, and Ffogg, realizing he’s pressed for time, makes final plans for escape to Argentuela in a private plane.

Michael Gilleland
Laudator Temporis Acti

Aeschylus, Prometheus Bound 115 (tr. Alan H. Sommerstein):
What sound, what scent has been wafted to me, unseen,
from gods, from mortals, or from both together?

Ennius, Annals 451 Skutsch (tr. E.H. Warmington):
And the trumpet in terrible tones taratantara blared.

Titinius, fragment 20 Ribbeck:
Meanwhile a stinking breeze assaults the nose.

Vergil, Aeneid 3.228:
An awful sound amid foul stench.

Dante, Inferno 21.139 (tr. John D. Sinclair):
And he made a trumpet of his rear.

William Shakespeare, King John 5.2.117:
What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?

John Milton, Paradise Lost 1.236-237
A singéd bottom all involved
With stench and smoke.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Orpheus,” lines 35-37:
What wondrous sound is that, mournful and faint,
But more melodious than the murmuring wind
Which through the columns of a temple glides?

Madame Mac Méod (future Mata Hari) éxécutant des danses brahmaniques dans la bibliothèque du Musée Guimet de Paris *13-3-1905

This is the behind-the-scenes account of the deeds of one Harvie Winestein, late of Hollywood, one among the many who shall be renamed maneless, though that thought trigger the hairs in your fundament. 

Man’s favorite sport, according to valedictorians, is knocking up the better half. Legend has it that Winestein proved this to the nth degree. But legends have a half life.  We now know less than we used to, and are forced to invoke fuzzy logic and high-school chemistry.

Setting out in the tub of our redemption to do the autobiography of this Harvie, also known as Shaggy Dog, and the Creature of the Black Habit, we met with a headwind to choke a horse. The best we could muster was to cover our asses as the ice closed in. 

When Harvie was casting for Been Her, he let out so much line that his leader got entangled, and the backup tripped on their shoelaces. 

His wife travelled with him to exotic locales to reenact scenes from the great books, according to the decision of the wise ones, western as well as eastern.

It was in the fall of the year that the Hairy Ainu abducted Saint Pocahontas, as she and her retinue made their way along the route now known as the Scallop’s Gonad. It was a major victory for the Ainu in their battle against Saint Peter, who had been sent by the devil to put a twist on things.

The victory celebrations went beyond the believable as you can imagine.

Xenomanes didn’t arrive until  festivities had petered out. There were few survivors. Their divergent versions of shed little light.

The International Committee on Taxonomy of Viruses’s classification includes fifteen taxa: realm, subrealm, kingdom, subkingdom, phylum, subphylum, class, subclass, order, suborder, family, subfamily, genus, subgenus, and species, to be applied for viruses, viroids and satellite nucleic acids.

Spawn of the unknown

And the Ubuntu left a bad taste. It was the crapshoot for the end of time. Snake eyes. The widow maker blousing in the upper gonads.

When Saint Jane went undercover as a playboy bunny. Just as the mad scientist was about to strike Sir Galahad arrived with his carbuncle.

By night she sells bivalves
By night she sells bivalves

By day, she studies under some of the greatest grand masters of the debatable world. By night she sells bivalves by the seashore. Her name? Molly Malone. 

And so we’ve come to story that cannot not be told. Though it’s true to the bone, and then some, still it’s paid a peanut a word and deducted by the company store. Some of the greatest minds of all time thrived on peanuts. On this we have chapter 11 of Plutarch’s “The Face in the Moon,” and the examples of Jubilation T. Cornpone, Aloysius Cappone, and Booker T.

Aghast at his fetid overtones, the matron suffered a sucking chest wound. He had the boys soften her up before he spoke his piece. His proposition was, her firstborn for a magic bean. He was the greatest prestidigitator that ever wasn’t. The most least square the cosmic equation.

He snickered at the crowd of philosophers who waste their time on god when they could  be building castles in the sand. He gaped at the gypsy woman suspected of infiltrating the ranks.