Monday, April 29, 2013
Years ago, when my grandson was in elementary school, I would occasionally drive him and a few of his buddies to a movie or baseball practice. They were a noisy and unruly bunch, and the topic that amused them most was, er, digestive problems. Mostly farting, but they also enjoyed talking about belching, vomiting, and diarrhea--or anything else that was gross. Twenty years later, and this mindset has taken over the film industry. I just watched the movie Bridesmaids. Vomiting, diarrhea? You want it, you got it.
Posted by miriam sawyer at 11:38 AM
Fear No More the Heat o' the Sun
Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o' the great;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:T
he Sceptre, Learning, Physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the'all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have,
And renownèd by thy grave!William Shakespeare
Posted by miriam sawyer at 11:27 AM
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Well, folks, Obamacare just gave me a big wet smacker in the form of a massive increase--$60 per month--to my health insurance. Thanks ever so. In related government news, Social Security wasted a stamp telling me to apply online for a death benefit, but when I got on their website they informed me that you could not apply online. So why are people so down on the Postal Service? It does what it is expected to do. I write a letter, put a stamp on it, and mail it. The recipient receives it. They don't charge $500 for a stamp, either. Not even when you are a republican.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
I found myself thinking of this poem today, as the weather was so lovely. I wanted to go somewhere to savor the day. Instead I went to Macy's.
Anyway, it is National Poetry Month.
THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US; LATE AND SOON
THE world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 10 So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Posted by miriam sawyer at 9:52 PM